Try asking sometime. Not all women will stand for that 50 Shades crap, you know.

A thong. God bless the thong. He hooked his fingers in the silk sides and tugged, rolling the silk down her legs until it hit the floor, his favorite place for panties.

I want you to know, chickens aren’t sexy. Not to me.” This was met with silence. “Are you there?” She was slurring her words now, which was embarrassing, so she took a deep breath. “Cam? Can you hear me?” “Yes, chickens aren’t sexy. Uh…I don’t think they’re meant to be.

Sugar," Tara said in a voice that was pure Pissed-Off South. "You need to go far, far away." A few weeks ago, he'd have taken that to mean she didn't want to see his face within a six-hundred-mile radius. Now he knew the truth. He distracted her. He could live with that. "Came to see if I can help." "I think I know how to make burgers," she said smoothly. "But bless your heart." In other words, f*** off and die.

He was in uniform, gun at his hip, expression dialed to Dirty Harry, and just looking at him had something pinging low in Chloe’s belly.

Half the people in Lucky Harbor were in love with him. The other half were men and didn't count. -Tara on Ford

Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with.