domenica 17 gennaio 2010

Seven Up - J. Evanovich

 Back in the days when I was auditioning for princess I had the occasional run-in with the bad kid in the neighborhood. He was two years older than me. His name was Joe Morelli. And he was trouble.
 I'm still having those run-ins with Morelli. And he's still trouble… but now he's the kind of trouble a woman likes.
 He's a cop and his gun is bigger than mine and he doesn't keep it in a cookie jar.
 He proposed to me a couple weeks ago during a libido attack. He unsnapped my jeans, hooked a finger into the waistband, and pulled me to him. "About that proposal, Cupcake…" he said.
 "Which proposal are we talking about?"
 "The marriage proposal."
 "Are you serious?"
 "I'm a desperate man."
 That was obvious.
 Truth is, I was desperate, too. I was starting to have romantic thoughts about my electric toothbrush. Problem was, I just didn't know if I was ready for marriage. Marriage is scary stuff. You have to share a bathroom. What's with that? And what about fantasies? Suppose the intergalactic princess resurfaces and I need to set off on a mission?
 Morelli shook his head. "You're thinking again."
 "There's a lot to consider."
 "Let me hit the high points for you… wedding cake, oral sex, plus you can have my credit card."
 "I like the wedding cake part."
 "You like the other parts, too," Morelli said.
 "I need time to think."
 "Sure," Morelli said, "take all the time you need. How about thinking upstairs in the bedroom."
 His finger was still hooked into my jeans and it was getting warm down there. I inadvertently glanced at the stairs.
 Morelli grinned and pulled me closer. "Thinking about the wedding cake?"
 "No," I said. "And I'm not thinking about the credit card, either."

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