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First published March 2, 2020
Infuriating man. Nice backside, though. That was the kind of ass they wrote sonnets about. None specifically that she could come up with, but worth considering. If she never found out who she was, perhaps she could make her fortune with nice ass poetry.
his voice low with a steering ache,Excuse me? What?
She leaned up and sat crisscross-applesauce, facing him and watching his eyes crinkle as he considered her question.Crisscross-applesauce? They're in nursery school now?
she fell into a viscous slumber.More sea monster slime? Yuck.