You bet your Grannie’s Panties I will.

Bug? You sack of sweat stink. I’ve got farts that smell sweeter than you. Think you’re better than me? Poop ice cream cones, do you? Call me a bug! Rachel, let me do him now.

Just let me sleep,” she grumbled. “Let me sleep, and I’ll sign a paper that you’re a fucking angel.

The want for that kiss had shocked him more than the interruption, and he fell back into the chair, cool and nonchalant as Quen came in with his questions and demands. He wasn’t sure if...