Two Wrongs Make a Right (The Wilmot Sisters #1)

by Chloe Liese

The man turns slightly as Jean-Claude speaks to him, revealing a quarter of his profile and the fact that he wears tortoiseshell glasses. A molten ribbon of longing unfurls inside me, curling toward my fingertips.

Very like me to also want to jump a man based on the simple fact that he is tall and wearing glasses

I don’t want camaraderie with Mr. Bespectacled Stick Up His Ass.

My FAVORITE genre of boy

I throw back the sheets and stand. “Time for a cold shower and refreshing my Latin.”

Oh...this. i could be into this

“That’s it,” I tell her. “I’m in. I want blood.”

Hot

“I mean, that is, m-metaphorical blood. Emotional blood. Wait—”

“Here.” Closing the space between us, I kneel and pat my thigh. When she does nothing, I glance up at her. “Bea?”

OH. MAMA. (Maybe i do have a foot thing...)

“I’m serious! Whoa.” She squeaks as I lift her foot and plop it on my thigh.

👀👀👀

I kiss her neck, behind her ear, then whisper, “En français, quand tu jouis, ça s’appelle la petite mort.” “T-translation, please,” she rasps, as I run my knuckles faintly along her ribs, making her belly jump, her breath catch. “I said, ‘In French, when you come, it’s called the little death.’ ”

Ughhhhhhh