Gabriel kept that same grin on his face, looking exceptionally pleased with himself, as Johanna straddled him, slippery skin against slippery skin. She could easily reach the bottle, now, and the jig was up.
In truth, he'd been initially unwilling to get himself involved with any of the Tributes, because no one knew heartbreak and trauma quite like the youngest archangel. But Johanna was a bonfire in the middle of the night, so to speak; it was hard not to notice her, unless a designer put her in a shamefully dull dress for the hundredth time.
(Trees, really?)
He chortled, wiggling the bottle in his hand. "I do like a dirty girl, you know."
no subject
In truth, he'd been initially unwilling to get himself involved with any of the Tributes, because no one knew heartbreak and trauma quite like the youngest archangel. But Johanna was a bonfire in the middle of the night, so to speak; it was hard not to notice her, unless a designer put her in a shamefully dull dress for the hundredth time.
(Trees, really?)
He chortled, wiggling the bottle in his hand. "I do like a dirty girl, you know."