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But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.

Jennifer Estep

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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Author
Writer
Something
Deal
Like
Deals
Face
Rather
Convoluted
Faces
Assassins
Feelings
Tricky
Night
Dozen
Much
Fragile

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Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.
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She doesn't even know how to kill things properlike? What kind of girl have you given me to, goddess? Vic protested, fixing his eye on Nike once more. Nike let out a laugh. Vic is a little bloodthirsty. You'll get used to it.
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I know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen, he said.
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Are you OK? I asked. I think so. Logan stared at me, and a smile pulled up his lips. But maybe you should give me mouth-to-mouth, just to make sure.
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You're mine, Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.
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I looked at Bria. “How do you put up with him?” Bria started to open her mouth, but Finn piped up instead. “She puts up with me because I happen to be rich, handsome, charming, a witty conversationalist, and exceptionally talented in bed,” he smirked. “Flexible too.” I groaned. “I did not need to hear those last two.
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Don't you agree, fuzzball?
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Well, what did you have for lunch?” I snapped. “Surely that’s not top secret superhero information.” “Steak with mashed potatoes and a side salad,” Striker replied. “And a piece of chocolate cheesecake for dessert.” I gave up on conversation after that. I was too jealous of the cheesecake to continue.
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And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.
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Keep the change, Gin, McCallister said in a smarmy, mocking voice. Consider it an early Christmas present. Aw, I drawled. A whopping thirteen cents. You're too kind, Jonah. Why, you'd put Ebezener Scrooge to shame with your bighearted generosity.
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Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
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They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.
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I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.
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Are you coming along peaceful-like, or am I going to have to hog-tie you and put you in the car?
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I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.
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I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.
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Now, back to my vacation idea.” Finn grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Just think about it. You, Owen, me, and Bria, all happily ensconced in a swanky hotel by a beautiful beach. Bria in a bikini. You and Owen doing your own thing, Bria in a bikini. Did I mention Bria in a bikini?
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The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.
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Oh yes. You’ve caught me. I confess. My sole purpose in life is to gleefully, willfully, maniacally destroy all of your precious chrome babies.
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What did you expect? That he'd send you flowers and write you bad poetry? That dead Nemean prowler is pretty much as close to a stuffed animal as you're ever going to get from a Spartan like Logan Quinn.
Jennifer Estep