His mouth was hot and hungry, and he kissed the way no man should kiss and still be allowed to run free.

I’m really not hungry,” she repeated, lifting the coffee cup and inhaling the fragrant steam before sipping. “Just a few bites,” he cajoled, taking his own place beside her. “You need to keep up your strength for tonight.” She gave him a heated, slumberous look, remembering her fantasy. “Why? Are you planning something special?” “I suppose I am,” he said consideringly. “It’s special every time we make love.

Women were always complications, bless their perverse little hearts.

Do you know why men name their cocks?" "No, why?" she asked, trying to stifle her laughter. "So most of the major decisions in their lives won’t be made by a total stranger.

God, I love you," he said, and laid his head on her belly, his arms locked around her hips. Madelyn slid her fingers into his hair. "It took you long enough," she said gently. "What I lack in quickness, I make up in staying power." "Meaning?" "That I'll still be telling you that fifty years from now." He paused and turned his head to kiss her stomach.

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind. Well, at least six or seven, anyway, because a thousand thoughts are a lot. Try counting your own thoughts and see how long it takes you to get to a thousand.

If you're looking for Mr. Perfect, you‟re going to spend your whole life being disappointed, because he doesn‟t exist. You have to get the best deal you can, but there will always be problems.