It's fine, but don't ask me to strip again or I'm going to wonder what your intentions really are.
It wasn__ playing both sides of the fence _ it was betting against yourself but still playing to win _ and it encapsulated everything absurd and paradoxical that I loved about the French.
The French Art of Revenge
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It wasn__ playing both sides of the fence _ it was betting against yourself but still playing to win _ and it encapsulated everything absurd and paradoxical that I loved about the French.
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With you and me, I don't know what anything means. We're pushing each other away and yet I don't seem to be able to let you go.
I want him and even if it's frightening, even if I may not be completely ready for a relationship, I want him. Now... And tomorrow, and all the following days.
Believe me, I knew you enjoyed it without voicing it that way. It was like your body screamed for me to take you." All too true, but I didn't like it to be told aloud. I arched an eyebrow, something I couldn't do when sober. "I'm pretty sure if I put a hand on your crotch, you're sporting a boner. It works both ways.
No." I pulled away just enough to lock my eyes with his. His crooked smile sent shivers down my spine. His eyes were a deep blue darkening more as the minutes passing between us were getting hotter. "I will be the one using you, and you'll love every second, every breath, every stroke and every fucking inch of me," he said, his lips ghosting above mine.