She was an idiot. An adorable, gorgeous, feisty, funny, sweet, sexy idiot.
Just leave me alone, I want to be alone,” she said when Jack tried to open the car door. She hit the lock, and wound the window up. Since the roof was down, it was a fairly pointless exercise.
Don’t freak out, I’m getting into the bed,” he said.
Later she would think about how he’d snuck up on her so silently. The man was on crutches – what was he, a ninja or something?
One of the best lovers in Hollywood. What would a title like that encompass exactly? she wondered. Technique? Enthusiasm? Or was it more about equipment?
That was the only explanation for how good his butt looked and why he was universally known as the Man With the Golden Ass among the women in the building.
This may shock you, but my love doesn’t come with conditions or requirements. It absolutely doesn’t require physical exam, that is for sure. It just is, Will. And it’s unstoppable, because, believe me, I’ve tried to stop it. So I guess what I’m trying to say in my usual inarticulate, rambly, too-wordy way, is that I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.
He was strong and warm and male and his mouth moved gently against hers, his kiss provocative and soothing at the same time. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers gripping muscle and bone. She felt the brush of his tongue against her lips, then he was inside her, hot and wet and demanding, and a part of herself she’d pushed down deep inside came roaring to life.