"That's right," Kavinsky said. He kept himself up, kept watching, kept looking at the ways Jack moved or didn't move to meet him. There were a lot of things that Kavinsky could do, he knew, to push things. Most of them would probably be right up against or over Jack's limits. Giving him a bite or two was one thing, but anything else was probably outside the bounds of even this.

"Keep talking. Say what all you're good for." Kavinsky slapped Jack's ass. "Everything isn't a fuckin' acceptable answer. Be creative. What are you good for, slut?"