Jamie, I panted. He pushed his kilt out of the way and pressed my hand against him. Bloody Christ, I said, impressed despite myself. My sense of propriety slipped another notch. Fighting gives ye a terrible cockstand, after. Ye want me, do ye no?
Diana Gabaldon
Jamie, I panted. He pushed his kilt out of the way and pressed my hand against him. Bloody Christ, I said, impressed despite myself. My sense of propriety slipped another notch. Fighting gives ye a terrible cockstand, after. Ye want me, do ye no?