“Apparently our portmanteau is trending on Twitter." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't even know what a portmanteau was before Jukebox Hero. It's a mashup of our names, like Brangelina or Robsten. No idea what ours is -- what do our names make?" He considered this a for a moment before shaking his head. "It's probably awful," he decided. "Could be worse, though; I hear the portmanteau for the main characters in The Hunger Games is... well, their names are Peeta and Katniss. I'll let you guys figure that one out on your own.”

“I need to know that you will be a good girl and not scream. Do you promise?” “I promise,” I said gritting my teeth, arching my back. I heard him laugh quietly as he moved his face back to mine. His mouth was on mine; I could taste the salty sweetness of myself on his lips…”

“Umm,” he moaned, as he started his rhythmic movements underneath me; raising me up and down with his hands at the speed and tempo he wanted. I leaned forward a bit so that my breasts were brushing against his chest; my hands gripped his shoulders as the heat of our lovemaking increased. He raised me up and down; up and down; my hips gyrated in a circular motion making sure the head of his beautiful cock was hitting my magic spot over and over again. My whimpers of pleasure were getting louder; his breathing was coming faster…”

“What's 'TTYL'?" Trey asked coming up to me."Talk to you later," I said."Well excuse me; what the fuck did I do to piss you off?""No Trey," I started laughing. My alcohol consumption was giving me a very nice buzz. "TTYL are the first letter initials for the phrase: Talk To You Later.”

“Did we make love today, Slate?”“We fucked baby. That is what you and I do. We fuck. And today we did it damn well.”

“I rather like it when you take charge.”“You do?”“Of course; just as long as you only do it when I let you”

“It's been a pleasure, she-wolf.' He climbed out of the jeep before I could hit him.”