Carter skates by me with an irritatingly smug smirk and an even smugger wink. “You look like you wanna have my babies.” I scoff and wave him off. Screaming yes seems highly inappropriate, after all. “Is that a hell-yes scoff?” “It’s a your-baby-would-absolutely-destroy-my-vagina scoff.” “Hm.” He twirls around, the tip of his tongue touching his top lip. “Sounds like a hell-fucking-yes to me.” Hell. Fucking. Yes.
Oh my ovaries
