“Hmmm, I think when you say “M-word', we both have two very different words in mind,” she whispered huskily, siding her hand down his chest.

“I'm thinking the marriage-word. What the fuck are you thinking?” he demanded.

“Menage.”

He burst out laughing.

“Fuck, Tatum, I think I will marry you.”

“You're so easy.”

“Not as easy as you.”

“No, probably not.”

“Tatum?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you please shut the fuck up now?” he groaned. She thought about it for a second.

“Maybe. If you say it just one more time,” she told him. He growled, and suddenly her panties were ripped away.

“Prove to me how bad you can be, then maybe I'll say it again,” he snapped. She sighed, scratching her nails down his arms.

“Anything for you, Satan.”

“Good answer.”