Kitten, your hands are heaven and your eyes are my home.
He f**ks even better than he looks”, I settled on saying. Several heads turned. I didn’t care; I was pissed. “And that beautiful face is going to be clamped between my legs as soon as we get home, don’t you worry.
Do you know what you’ve done?” I asked in a bland tone. Annette gave me an inquiring look. “You’ve gotten on my last nerve.” The table went crashing into her before she could blink, and then my fist found a home in her perfectly arranged hair.
I love your hands,' he sighed. 'You think I look like an angel? Well, Kitten, your hands are my heaven and your eyes are my home.'" (Bones)
I’d forgotten to keep blasting a song in my mind. I remedied my mistake, but the lyrics to “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” seemed too close to home at the mo-ment. “Culture Club?” Now his mouth curled downward. “And you accuse me of practicing cruel and unusual punishment.
Where are we going? You never told me." "My home in Romania." Wow, this guy wasn’t kidding with his Dracula fixation.
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