“G'on now.' he murmured with that Southern drawl. 'Lie on back and let me take care of you. I promise to go slow...real slow.' - Issac Rothe, Crave”
“You said you wanted to remember something.' His palms slid up to the top of her thighs and squeezed. 'So lie back and let me do my thing.'-Issac Rothe, Crave”
“Sing me a love song in a slow, southern drawl to the tune of sunny days...”
“Maybe,” he said in a slow, rural drawl, “you could explain to me why I found you in the middle of an orgy.” “Well,” I said, “if you’re going to be in an orgy, the middle is the best spot, isn’t it.”
“I know I messed up but I’m here for real now. We’re going to do this and I promise I’ll take care of you as best I can. You’re going to have to be patient with me because I’m flying blind.”
“Now that I have you back, I’m never letting you go. That’s a promise. I’m not letting you go again.”