Maybe I was worrying for nothing. Maybe it had just been casual for him, and I wouldn't even have to tell him it couldn't happen again. After all, the man was a couple hundred years older than me and a former gigolo. I certainly hadn't robbed him of his virginity.
Jeaniene Frost (2010). “Halfway to the Grave: A Night Huntress Novel”, p.159, Hachette UK
