“There were times, many, many times, when she just didn't get him. She'd heard on numerous occasions that men were bad, wicked creatures, who'd do terrible things at a moment's notice. You wore the wrong skirt or bent over at an inopportune time and BAM. They slipped their penises into you.”

“Whereas this…this was wet. His lips sank into a rhythm obviously familiar to him—like a kind of slow rock over her mouth—and there were times when she felt his tongue, hot and slippery. Times when he insinuated himself right against her and that same slipperiness made her go all funny inside.”

“See—this is the problem. You don’t even get where this is going. You can’t just ask me to come in, or kiss me, or tell me you want to know what smoking pot feels like. When I’m close to you I feel crazy, okay? When you say my name I feel crazy. It’s not…the right thing for you. I don’t think I can just…be your friend.”

“You're a bad girl, trying to force me over the edge. ... But you don't have to. I'm already there. I'm already lost in you.”

“A vagina. Were you really that mystified there, or are you actually not sure?’‘Sure about what?’Goddamn, he needs to finish his sentences.‘About the benefits of having a vagina.’‘Look – I know the benefits, OK?’I totally don’t. Currently it feels like an angry animal that wants to eat him, between my legs.”

“Just that one word—sound—sent a strong answering pulse through her body. His tongue curled around syllables that weren’t there, like a promise. This is what you’ll get, if you just let me hear.”

“Why not? It's true. I don't even laugh for anyone but you."She hesitated, for that one. Did he really mean that? Surely not."Tim seems like a really funny guy." She tried, but all it did was make his mouth form that mean line."Tim pees in the kitchen sink.""Well, okay. I could atleast promise not to do that, but even so-”