Hideaway (Devil's Night, #2)

by Penelope Douglas

No makeup, guys’ clothes . . . She’s a feminist.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t flaunt myself for the enjoyment of men.” His chest shook with a laugh behind me. “Well, good. Happy to hear it, because I’m the only man whose attention you should be trying to get, and baby, you got it years ago while wearing another man’s clothes.” He kissed my temple, his hot breath sending chills down my spine. “So, you can imagine how fucking beautiful you are to me right now wearing mine.”

“I want your smart-ass mouth.” I kissed her lips. “I want every memory you’re going to make from now on.” I kissed her forehead. “And I want this.”

The body’s need to waste one-third of its lifespan unconscious was an error of evolution.