“You really think so?”
“Whoa! Slow down there, loverboy,” Summer said, rearing back mentally. “For all you know I have deep terrible secrets that will make you run away screaming.” Or, you know, foolish little secrets like being a twenty-year-old virgin.
Isaac rolled his eyes. “I’m a werewolf,” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not too sure you can top that,” he mumbled, kissing her cheek and laying down next to her, propping himself up on his elbow and watching her. He ran his hand down her body again, stopping at her hip and smiling.
“Point taken,” Summer responded. “Just how do you intend to persuade me, anyway? You don’t know /that/ much about me.” She shoved him over onto his back, climbing on top of him and pinning him flat before leaning down to kiss at his chest and incidentally grind against him. “I might make you crazy,” she whispered, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.