“Barrons." I hastily shoved the phone between the cushions. Ms. Lane." He inclined his dark head. You tattooed me, you bastard." I got right to the point.”

“He raised a brow. 'Petunia, Ms. Lane?'I scowled. "Ass, Barrons.”

“Don‘t do it. I let you push me pretty far sometimes, but not this time. I will not have you put your"—it took me a moment to find the right words—"sorcerer‘s brand on me, so you can hunt me down whenever and wherever you please. And that, Jericho Barrons, is non-negotiable." Well done, Ms. Lane. Just when I think you‘re all useless fluff and nails, you show me some teeth."You win. This time. I won‘t tattoo you. Not today. But in lieu of that, you will do something for me. Refuse and I tattoo you. And, Ms. Lane, if I chain you up one more time tonight, there‘ll be no more talking. I‘ll gag you.”

“Oh, please," I rolled my eyes, "You're a leftie, Barrons.""Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmured.”

“Figure out another way to explain me. I don’t care what you come up with. But if you call me your latest piece of petunia again or make uncalled-for references to my mouth and oral sex with you, you and I are through.”He raised a brow. “Petunia, Ms. Lane?”I scowled. “Ass, Barrons.”He crossed his arms and his gaze dropped to my glossy Lip-Venom red lips. “Am I to understand there are called-for references to your mouth and oral sex with me, Ms. Lane? I’d like to hear them.”

“You had something. What was it?" he demanded."An alcohol-laced kiss," I said tightly. "Two, to be precise.""From who?""From whom,I believe is the correct phrasing.""All right, from-the-fuck-whom, Ms. Lane?"Mac and Barrons”