“Hello, everyone.” I didn’t think lying was an option, appearing as I did, so I told the truth. “I’ve come to kill you all. It would be much easier if you would kindly stand still.”
“We should celebrate. We each married a sadistic killer.” His head tilted toward Isa as we drank our coffee. “I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard she ends up with.”
“I went utterly still as I watched us dancing. That...oh, holy shit. I knew my cheeks were flaming as I watched us move against each other. Our hands just kind of went wherever they wanted. Body parts rubbing sinuously together. I placed a hand over my mouth gently as I watched us...
"Jesus," Elder Merrick muttered, sounding a bit breathless. "I think I bring sex to the dance floor, but fuck..." A pause. "Queen Ruckler, I know I've offered before...and it still stands."
Elder Jacobs grunted. "Maybe I could get a copy of this-”
“It would undoubtedly be prudent for neither of us to attempt a sexual coup on one another again from the evidence of our reactions. Most definitely any outcome of an intended purpose would bound to be foiled from lack of focus.”
“I think you should kiss me now."
He hummed quietly, more of a deep rumble, and his hips lifted the barest bit into my touch as my hands journeyed higher, almost to his crotch. "I don't take orders well, Queen Ruckler." His voice was becoming deeper, sounding just as breathless as mine had.”
“I'm not sorry. That was long overdue.'
Antonio instantly amended, 'Precious, I didn't mean that I'm sorry it happened.'
Precious...fucking hell.
Canal's smile was private as he gazed at Antonio. 'I know, honey.'
Honey...Jesus Christ.”
“I want to know what I want. For in setting forth”
“Yesterday was a memory. Today was a hope.”
“O, my God! I must lose you, friend!”
“In the centre of the day, tossed among the shoal of travelling sardines in a coleopter with a big white carapace, a chicken with a long, feather-less neck suddenly harangued one, a peace-abiding one, of their number, and its parlance, moist with protest, was unfolded upon the airs. Then, attracted by a void, the fledgling precipitated itself thereunto.
In a bleak, urban desert, I saw it again that selfsame day, drinking the cup of humiliation offered by a lowly button.”
“Wally was worse than any fairy-tale witch, and his trailer wasn't made of candy.”
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