He broke the uncomfortable silence with a question about her husband’s background and profession, cursing to himself for his stupidly, but the words...had already left his mouth. A brief pause to regain her composure and to light a cigarette, her words laden with mocking enthusiasm, “Ronnie Monroe,” she smiled, blowing smoke into the air above her head. “A fucking crook… A fucking gangster… A fucking bastard… A fucking arsehole, a man with a violent temper and a reputation for being a hard-man. But I don't tell the guys that because if you think they get horny when I say the L-word, they turn into slavering dogs the momentI tell them that." Do you want to kiss me?" Just like that. I don't know, maybe I'd been leading her on but it wasn't conscious and I definitely hadn't been expecting it. Perhaps I hesitated a moment, but I doubt it. I rolled around on the sofa, kind of threw one knee over hers, stroked her cheek - I remember noticing how her make up was already smudged and smeared. More

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