Note to self-give serious thought to becoming an alcoholic.

Don't take life too seriously. After all none of us are getting out alive anyway.

Matt?" "Yeah?" "You okay?" "Working on it." His voice sounded unusually tight. "I thought you said you did this a lot." "Yeah. I do. But apparently not with anyone I'm wildly attracted to." This caused certain reactions in her body that were best not experienced in mixed company. "It's just panties," she finally whispered. "And they're really great panties," Matt agreed. "But it's not the panties, Amy. It's you.

Oh boy. His chest was smooth and warm and hard as stone, and she wanted to both touch and nibble. And lick. Could she pretty please lick?

He knew he had no right to touch her, crave her like air, but he did both. And when he put his mouth on hers, he recognized the taste of her, like she'd been made just for him.

I gave you sympathy. *I* want sympathy!" "Are you kidding me? You have the sexiest man on the planet wanting you. You're getting laid regularly. No sympathy for you!

Logan, why aren't you wearing protection?" The radio crackled, and then came Logan's voice. "I have 'protection' in my bag," he said. "But as much as I don't want to say this, darlin', now's not the time to be asking if I'm carrying condoms. I have problems." "A life vest, Logan! I'm asking where's your life vest!" "Oh," he said. "I knew that.