Renee

“I don’t like big weddings.” Her panic is clear. “All those people make me nervous. I’ll mess up the vows and say something inappropriate.”
“It doesn’t have to be big. It can be just the two of us if you want. We can wait until next summer—or the one after if a year isn’t long enough. We can get married up here by a justice of the peace on the end of the dock at sunset. A damn Rastafarian can perform the ceremony if that’s what you want. I don’t care about the wedding part. All I want to be is connected to you in the most significant way possible. I want you as my wife.”
― Helena Hunting, Pucked

“What's going on here?" Buck asks just as loudly, gesturing wildly with his giant, hairy knuckled hands.
"I'm sucking his dick," I say sarcastically. Sometimes I wish my mouth didn't have a faulty connection to my brain allowing everything to come out unfiltered.
Alex coughs, his fingers twitching on my hip, and Buck's face turns an unnatural shade of red. This is such an odd situation; the awkwardness causes me to continue to spew idiocy.
"Fine, you got me. I wasn't sucking his dick. We were fucking each other's mouths with our tongues. This is otherwise referred to as kissing, but mouth fucking sounds way dirtier, so I'm gonna go with that.”
― Helena Hunting, Pucked

“The connection between my mouth and brain are faulty, as usual, and I shout, “Exit only! It’s exit only!”
― Helena Hunting, Pucked

“I won’t as long as you drop the perfect gentleman crap. That’s a deal breaker. My boobs won’t tolerate it.” “I love your boobs, they’re so fun.” His smile is panty wetting. “I’ll pick them up at seven?”
― Helena Hunting, Pucked