She cleared her throat. "I dont like that sort of thing." [...] "What sort of thing?" His gaze dropped to her mouth. Held there. [...]"The F-word sort of thing. She blurted it out, saying the first thing that came into her mind without thinking. His eyebrow shot up. She hadn't thought that anyone could do that. Shoot up one eyebrow. It was incredibly hot-at least on him."The F-word?" He repeated. " Dolce core, you can't even say fuck, for fuck's sake.
-Christine Feehan
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