Yanking his inner manwhore back to the land of polite conversating, he forced his hands to stop
J.R. WardMots clés manny
You are perfect for a female."
"Not where I come from."
"Then they're using the wrong standard.
Mots clés bdb jr-ward payne manny
When Vishous pushed open the door to the exam room, he got a gander at the kind of seating arrangement that made him think fondly of castration.
J.R. WardBecause my patient just sat herself up--and I'm not talking about her raising her torso off the damn pillows. I wasn't there when she did it and I need to see how it happened."
Red Sox seemed to stop breathing. "What...I'm sorry. What the fuck are you saying."
"Do I need to reenact it in charades or some shit?"
"I'll pass on that--I so don't need you on your knees in front of me with only a towel on."
"Which makes two of us."
"Wait, are you serious?"
"Yeah. I'm really not interested in blowing you, either.
I don’t need to tell you not to fuck my buddy. Right.”
The surgeon looked around his little-glass-bottle-and-needle routine. “I’m not thinking of sex at the moment, thank you very much. But if I was, it sure as shit wouldn’t be with him. So instead of worrying about who I’m tapping, how’d you like to do us all a favor and have a shower. You stink.
The pair of them were staring at the computer screen like two dogs watching animal planet: very focused, but incapable of turning up the volume or changing the channel.
-Manny and Butch
Mots clés j-r-ward bdb butch manny
Her perfume or soap or whatever it was reminded him of sandalwood and something else.
Oh, right...orgasms.
I'll call you," Manny said.
"You do that, my man. You frickin' do that."
-Manny to V
Mots clés j-r-ward vishous bdb manny
As the syringe was filled, Butch stepped up into the surgeon’s grille. Even as incapacitated as the cop was from the inhaling, he was straight-up deadly as he spoke. “I don’t need to tell you not to f*ck my buddy. Right.”
The surgeon looked around his little-glass-bottle-and-needle routine. “I’m not thinking about sex at the moment, thank you very much. But if I was, it sure as shit wouldn’t be with him. So instead of worrying about who I’m tapping, how’d you like to do us all a favor and have a shower. You stink.”
Butch blinked. Then smiled a little. “You have balls.”
“And they’re made of brass. Big as church bells, too.
May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself... curiously depleted"
Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.
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