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Traditional Irish Triad
There are three indications of dignity in a person: a fine figure, a free bearing, eloquence.
She wasn�t the kind of chick he went for. He liked �em tall, skinny, big tits, long legs. Brunette was nice, blonde was better, redhead was the fuckin� shit. Pale skin with freckles was always a fuckin� plus. And he loved it when a girl had a nasty mouth on her � they always gave awesome head. Gloria Nathan, M.D., was almost the opposite. Soft and lush, rounded and womanly, with smooth, mocha skin and a warm, generous smile, she made him think of coffee ice cream, comfort and warm, safe places. Ryan O�Reily wouldn�t change one fuckin� thing about her.
Check-up time. Best part of the whole fuckin� day. �Hey, doc, you ever take ballet lessons when you were a kid?� Ryan asked, watching her as she moved. �Yes, ten years,� she replied, taking his wrist between her fingers and counting his pulse. �I can tell. You�re very graceful. Carry yourself like a fuckin� queen.� Gloria looked up at him, surprised by the compliment and searching his face for any sign of sarcasm. She found none. �Thanks,� she responded, writing on his chart and giving him a shy smile. �You�re welcome,� he said, smiling back at her.
�Favorite?� Six fuckin� weeks of chemo. She ducked her head. �I can�t.� Six week of pukin� his guts out after every fuckin� meal and strugglin� to take a goddamn piss. �Sure ya can,� he coaxed. �Tell ya mine if ya tell me yours.� Six weeks away from the neverendin� danse macabre of Emerald City. How would the citizens respond to the absence of their Wizard? She blushed, leaning forward awkwardly as she whispered, �Cocksucker.� But goddamn, it was worth every fuckin� second when she looked at him with those gorgeous chocolate eyes. He grinned and winked at her. �Mine, too.� |
Copyrighted (c) 2007 Silver Thistle Publishing.