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He nips at my lip with his teeth, and Jesus, Mary, and One Direction, that one little nibble is going to make me come apart at my seams. My panties are so hot they’re smoking. Like my pussy’s going to need a cigarette after this, and neither I, nor my pussy, have ever smoked a day in our lives.
Parker makes a zip it noise and pinches her fingers in Nana’s direction. “Not up for debate.” She goes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’m about to be late for band practice. I’ll call you later. Judy, Nana, so nice to see you again. Sorry for the awkward fun. Thanks for raising him right. Enjoy your unicorn poop.”
Your boyfriend is an asshole. This fucking book—her first husband is a dick, and who the fuck uses Windex to kill ants? And redneck golf. REDNECK GOLF. I’m fucking laughing at a game called REDNECK GOLF. Jesus Christ. There goes my fucking man card.
