Pleasure was a siren, luring her to experience more

What are you doing?” she cried in protest. “Playing,” he said, the single word rough, almost guttural.

The bad thing about living in a small town was that everything became a personal issue. The good thing about living in a small town was that everything became a personal issue. During times of trouble, the support system was massive.

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

He needed a woman. Bad.

I'll tell you what's wrong!" he roared, "I'm trying to quit smoking!" Then he strode angrily to the truck, leaving her standing there. She blinked her eyes, and slowly a smile stretched her lips. She strolled to the truck and got in. "So, are you homicidal or merely as irritable as a wounded buffalo?" "About halfway in between," he said through clenched teeth. "Anything I can do to help?" His eyes were narrow and intense. "It isn't just the cigarettes. Take off your panties and lock your legs around me, and I'll show you.

By morning, she was raw and sore, and knew walking would be an effort. By morning, she could barely remember what it had been like to not know his body, not to have felt him inside her and held him in her arms and absorbed the power of his thrusts as he came. By morning, she was his.