His fingers never ceased to amaze me. They could break a man's neck, bandage a wound, and slide sensually across bare skin.

I nearly dropped the plate I held. "You've asked me out tons of times." "Not really. I've made inapproprite suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date. And, if memory serves, you did say you'd give me a fair chance once I let you clean out my trust fund." "I didn't clean it out," I scoffed.

Did you hotwire this car?" I then rephrased my question. "Did you STEAL this car?

That's the great thing about being a writer. You dream up amazing questions... and then dream up even more amazing answers.

I hadn't gotten far when I ran into Mason. Good God. Men everywhere.

I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: “Isn’t Dimitri hot?” Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected: “Well, yeah, according to most women, at least.

All right," I managed to say, just before I crumpled to the floor. "Let's see what you've got.