Ides and Vapor from Chapter 23:
“Would you rather squirt all over his upholstery back here or have me shave those dirty, germ-infested pubes for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Neither. This is absolutely hideous to even think about!” I say, my voice going up about two octaves, and in this enclosed space, it sounds shaky and weak, though it’s loud.
“Not a choice. If you decide to give me what you call your piss, then I’ll lick it all off these leather seats afterward. And you’ll be released so you can go inside, grab the black light and come back out to do a better job of cleaning it off. If you choose to be shorn"—he chuckles at his silly word, shorn—“then I’ll come back out here and vacuum them up, but you know it’ll be hard to get them all. I might miss some, and then your DNA will be in here for forensic scientists to find and future car thieves as well.” Once more with the wiggly, flirty brows.
“This is sick!” I tip my head back and rest it on the car door. For some stupid reason I’m grinning like an imbecile.
His creativity for lunacy like this is astounding, and God love him, I can’t help but want him more for it.
He pulls off his shirt and stuffs it behind my back. “For cushioning,” he explains.
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re all sorts of gentlemanly right now.” I snort, then chuckle, shaking my head.
“Damn right, I am. Now, which shall it be, my sexy girl?” He wears a lopsided smirk. It makes my stomach flip.
Bzzzzzzzzz . . .
He turns on the clippers, and I cringe.