( been a minute since he's heard that, too. it feels right.

danny's settled in jem, no more idle fucking but idling for the sake of idling, swollen dick gloved in her insides as he stares into the dark at parisa's last text. he maneuvers them again — back onto their sides, coiled snakelike around her, with his thumb still occupying her sleep-pouty mouth. no more texting. now he calls, waits for parisa to pick up. )

You ain't my normal M.O., but I'd take my time with you. ( this late, danny's all grit and rasp; his voice scratches like a needle over a record into the line, vibrating through jem's spine. he noses into her shoulder, teeth clipping the collar of her t-shirt. his t-shirt, several times too big on her. ) Figure out your patterns, your habits. Wait 'til you're alone, then take you somewhere.