You, lass, have a self-image problem.” Well, that might be a little true, but she also had a mirror.
What are you doing?” Her voice shook. “Whatever I want, sweetheart.
He reached out and ran his thumb over her bottom lip again and then slipped it inside her mouth. Eva froze, feeling the tip of his digit hook over her bottom teeth.
If he didn't get his cookie, then Harte would reacquaint himself with his hand.
With you. I'll be with you.
