Not My Type Of Guy
"If I wasn't afraid I'd melt if I tried to stand up again, I'd punch you for that."
"Honey, you should be thanking me." With her own glass, Lacey eases into the arm of the sofa. "So was it great or what?"
I sip the wine. "Maybe." I sip again, let my head fall back. "He looked like Kenny Rogers, and he rubbed my feet. God, and there was this place above my shoulder blades."
I shudder. "He used his thumbs. He had incredible thumbs."
"You know what they say about thumbs on a man." Smirking, Lacey lifts her glass, toasts when I bother to open one eye. "I've noticed that Noah has very... large... thumbs."