“Pagan lifted one shoulder and I prayed by all that was holy that she’d take off that pink bra. This may be invading her privacy but I was Death, dammit. I should get some privileges.”

“This may be invading her privacy but I was Death, dammit. I should get some privileges”

“One of them hung a pink bra from our lighting fixture. I left it there. It was a nice bra”

“I slip her shirt over her head and she tries to cover herself, but I move her arms out of the way and kiss up her neck while I talk about all the things that are no longer just mine.'Will, stop.' She laughs and attempts to pull my hands away from her bra. 'You can't take off my bra, we're in our driveway. What if they come outside?''It's dark,' I whisper. 'And it's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off.' I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. 'And I want to take off our pants.”

“She did some sort of magic bra trick to get it off and out of her shirt. All women seemed to know the same maneuver.”

“It's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off." I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. "And I want to take off our pants."She grins against my lips and slowly nods. "Okay, but hurry," she whispers."I can be quick," I assure her. "But I'll never hurry.”