"That's always been your problem, hasn't it?" Sasha asked dryly. "Thinking you're so much better when every thought in your mind is gearing towards bending me over and showing me what you'd really like to do with me."
A shiver ran through her just thinking of it. Sasha was infuriated with him and still couldn't decide whether she really wanted him dead or not. Now that the other woman was nothing more than a corpse doing a jack knife on the sidewalk, there was room for Sasha to worm her way in again. To give him what he really needed. No one else understood him - not even that fat man whose lungs would've made an adorable handbag.
"Would it make you jealous?" she asked, toying with the flimsy tar-stained skirt she'd found. "To see him tear this off of me while I tear into him? He's innocent - I can tell. In the old days, you would've shared me with any of the First Sons that asked and I know I'd be doing him a favour. You always said my tongue was my best feature."
To illustrate her point, both tongues came slithering out of her mouth to tease at her bottom lip. "I'd be willing to take on both of you. It'd give our babies something to watch."