“Some of us have more than one brain cell to help out,” Gaiman drawls. He turns his attention back on me. “The agent will communicate the timing for the strike?”
“Correct,” I say. “I want to make sure we take as many high-ranking members of the Mikhailovs down as we can during the detonation. If we cut the head off the snake, the rest of those cowardly f***s will fall right at our feet.”
“Are you sure you aren’t delaying because you’re too busy with your blushing bride?” Jax asks with a suggestive smile. “Or is there trouble in paradise? She looks down in the dumps today.”
I grimace and finally acknowledge him. “She’s pouting.”
“Is your c**k not big enough for her?”
I smirk. “Your preoccupation with p***s size is telling, my friend.”
“Yeah, it’s telling that I have a giant c**k,” he
