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"So you're the man who's so desperate to get laid that he has to draw up contracts to trap married exes into having sex." Randall said, curling his fists in preparation for the sweet bliss of depressing Dylan's nose.
"Randall!" a glaring Vivian reproached him in a tone that whined even as it delivered a clear directive.
"I'm sorry," Randall croaked, not meaning it, "Of course I'm the one who should apologize. You flew across a f***ing ocean just for one last shot at my wife's p***y, so naturally I'm the a**hole. Fine, then. Sorry, I guess."
Dylan held up a dismissive hand and smiled, putting on his most convincing unfazed facial expression. He stepped forward to wrap Randall in a congratulatory embrace and whisper into his ear, "If you think you're sorry now, bitch, just wait 'til tonight when I'm slamming your wife through her first five orgasms as a married woman."
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