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“My things—” I protested. “Are already in your chamber.” Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the pile of suitcases and bags I’d brought with me were gone, along with the sleek black car. “Eat your heart out, Dumbledore.”
If his looks alone weren’t enough to make a woman drop her panties, all that big dick alpha energy would.
"You heard me. Inside, on your knees. We have work to do." "Listen, you're hot and all, but I'm not getting on my knees for you. I hardly know you."
“Apparently, your milkshake brings all the supernatural boys to the yard, Sunday. But which one gets the cherry?”
People didn’t seem to realize they’d hurt you if you’d perfected the art of sarcasm.
Father Caleb Gallagher definitely gave more sinner vibes than saint every time I saw him.
“You have been. And, yes, if you choose this punishment, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your insolent arse until you can’t sit down without a reminder of what my palm felt like on your skin.”
“The difference between us and you, dog, is that we are giving her what she wants. I’d rather share her and be given a place in her heart than spend my life on the outside looking in. You’re too bloody selfish to do that, which means you’ll never be hers.”
