“Any other iron on you?” he asked impatiently.“Just my tongue stud.”His look was a mixture of curiosity and horror.“I’m kidding, you idiot. Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” I say.“No, I’m pretty sure you’re not all right.”He shakes his head. “I’m going to ask you not to make any decisions until we’ve talkedabout it.”

“I’m ready when you are, Lucan.”“Okay,” he said, shaking his head in defeat. “Let’s go get our boy.”

“He was just a kid. He didn’t care. He was like, “I’m getting in my mom’s van and I’m going home.” I was just a kid, too. But I cared. With him gone, who was I going to play Plato and Socrates with?
”

“He rolled his tongue around in his mouth and made a sour face. “Got any gum? Mints?” “No. You going to hark again?” He shook his head. “Mouth tastes like the bottom of my shoe.” I didn’t ask him how he knew that particular flavor.”

“What is it about Paris that I just can’t keep my hands off of you?” I ask him in between kisses.“It has nothing to do with Paris and everything to do with my raw sexuality, baby. I’m fucking irresistible,” he growls just before he shoves his tongue down my throat. I can’t argue with that.”