“You don’t speak in these meetings unless I give you permission to.” “Screw you.” “You care to say that again?” His face is practically on top of mine. My breath hits the air in quick beats, drumming in time to my racing heart. A tick in his jaw draws my eye there. His face is sharp and dangerous. His mouth is a warning. Thick and full. Promising delight and disaster. Should I bite them or kiss them?
