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“You’d be surprised. He might like that. I know he’d sure as fuck like punishing you after.”
“What’s this, the seventeen hundreds? We’re not doing arranged marriages,” I mumbled, my mouth full of noodles.
Fuck, her sass got me going.
He was like hot coals under a fire—they looked pretty but would burn you and crumble into nothingness if you touched them.
“If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to take it as an invitation,”
I cracked one eye open. “Where did you come from?” Beck ran his tongue over his lip ring. “Your wildest dreams.”
Hell, this guy made anything sound appealing. He could sell snow shovels in Florida.
“You’re hot when you're all murdery, Little Thief. Love the violence.”
The crowd chanted his name, and I wanted to do the same, but in a completely different context.
“You’re going to come for us, Firecracker, and know just how much we own you.”
“I just can't decide if it’s going to turn into some bachelorette shit where you have to pick one in the finale, or maybe you can be like a whole reverse harem thing.”
For how much of an ass he was, he never failed to look like the most delicious taste of forbidden fruit.
“Not finding you was never an option. I would burn down the entire city to get you back.”
I was trying to run a goddamn organization, and the entire thing was going to be derailed by one somewhat—very—attractive girl and her tight ass.
There was something in that image—our bloody hands dripping onto the pavement as I let her pull me into the dark street.
Fuck, it was hot when she pissed him off like that.
“I told you she wasn’t just tits and ass.
He needed to calm down. Beck was right, Nico was going to give himself an ulcer.
