“Chris hops out of the vehicle, wearing a tight black tee. He pulls his hair back and throws his backpack over his shoulder, looking read to punch somebody out. Or maybe that's his happy face. I don't know.”

“Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers.The bathroom door clicks shut.She stays there for a long time.He's pulling his hair out.”

“He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?""Jericho""Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight.My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck?”

“Death watched me, amusement once again lifting to his dark eyes. Unlike me with my bedraggled clothes and knotted hair, he looked good in the morning light streaming into my apartment. Okay, actually, he looked exactly the same as when I’d first seen him when I was five years old, but recently I’d come to appreciate the way his black T-shirt pulled tight over the expanse of his shoulders and his faded jeans hugged his ass. Not that I was looking, of course. I mean, he was Death.”

“The kitten I got is black and white and has long hair. Really long hair (think Willie Nelson). I decided to call him Cap’n because his markings make him look like a pirate. The majority of his face is white, except over his left eye is a black patch of fur, like an eye patch, and under his chin he has black hair that’s long and comes to a point like a goatee. Also, when I got him he had a parrot on his shoulder and a wooden leg.”

“I know that look." I put one arm out in from of me. He didn't stop. "Chris, we have to get going." I backed up, scooting over to put the couch between us."What?" He feigned and innocent expression."You know what." He kept coming. I continued evasive maneuvers. "They're going to be waiting on us."He shrugged. "It's not my wedding." His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip before sucking it back into his mouth. "I'd rather push that way too tight dress up around your waist and bend you over the couch.”