We have to get the Diamond. And Cesare’s head.” They looked at me. “Why the head?” Doolittle asked. “Because it’s easy to carry and I can torture it for a long time.” And I didn’t just say it out loud, did I? I checked their faces. Yep, I did.
It's awful to be rich and mind-boggingly handsome and have women fawn over you. My heart bleeds for you. Poor dear, how do you manage?
So we have giant super-smart vipers who slithered in here, killed our people, opened the vault, stole something from it, and slithered out, undetected?” “Appears so.” “Okay. Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t something dangerous.
Curran and Kate stood by the door. "I can't believe you decided to come down here and check on me," she said. "The guy once handed you a fan and told you to fan yourself if the sight of his naked torso was too much." "That was like a year ago. Will you let it go already?" "No." Curran grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her. "Never." She kissed him back and smiled. Awww. Kate and the Beast Lord sitting in a tree.
Cajun stomp?" "You heard me, swamper. And keep your hands to yourself.
Would you like to assist me with my choice of underwear as well?” My sarcasm whistled right over his head. “I would be delighted. While I’d love to see you in a balconette bra, I’m afraid for this particular occasion I would have to go with a foam-lined seamless due to the tight fit of the garment across your breasts . . . Perhaps I could come over and review what you have available . . .
I prefer the term ‘sexual deviant’ myself,” Saiman said.
You fellows ever thought of hiring out as a Christmas lights crew? You’d make a fortune.
You snore worse. At least I don't turn into a lion in my sleep." "I only did it once." "Once was weird enough, thank you.
What do you do to your hair?" "Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil." "Ever thought of patenting the recipe?" "No.
He referred to you as his little snack." "He's a sweetie.
Had he expected me to hump her leg?
He said, 'Yeah, but will I get chicks? In truckloads?
Screwy," I said. "Is that a medical term?" "Of course.
Oh, it's you," Curran's voice said quietly. "I thought it was an elephant.
What happened to the alpha-wolf?" "LEGOs." "Legos?" It sounded Greek but I couldn't recall anything mythological with that name. Wasn't it an island? "He was carrying a load of laundry into the basement and tripped on the old set of LEGOs his kids left on the stairs. Broke two ribs and an ankle.
Long strands of drool stretched from between his fangs and dripped on the pavement, sending a heady scent of jasmine to swirl through the air. Perfumed monster spit. What was the world coming to?
You sure you don’t want to kiss me good-bye, baby?
He strained to say something else. I leaned toward him. He focused on me. “Rape,” he promised. “Many, many times. Until you bleed . . .” “I’m so flattered.
Did I ever tell you that you are like sunshine in the middle of the night?
Who is there with you?" "Raphael" Kate's voice snapped. "I'll be in Atlanta in three hours. Where are you?" "I said it's nothing major." "Bullshit. You wouldn't work with Raphael unless the Apocalypse was imminent and that was the only way to prevent it.
Kate had never met a person she didn't want to protect, preferably by hacking at the hostile parties with her sword.
Bran grabbed my hand,pulled me to a chest, and swung the heavy lid open. A white cloth covered the contents. He jerked it aside. Human heads filled the chest. "Oh God." He scooped a mummified head from the chest by a scalp lock and thrust it at me. "All of them are mine." This was officially the weirdest version of "come down to my place and I'll show you some etchings" I've ever been hit with.
Curran and I mixed about as well as glycerin and nitric acid: put us together, shake a bit, and hit the deck as we exploded.
What do you think?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding. I eyed him. "Impressive, but too much." He leaned toward me, the blue eyes smoky with a promise I was shure he could fulfill. I tried not to think of the bedroom. "Too much?" "Yes. I like the menace. It's very masculine, but he looks like he would screw everything in sight and call me 'wench
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