“This one's good. 'Don't expect a man with a hard-on to be able to think. He doesn't have enough blood to run both heads.' Hmmm." He shot her a wicked grin over his shoulder. "I do. Want to see?”

“What do you want?"To know you," she said without hesitation. "All of you. I want to know what makes you feel good.""Your laughter," he said without hesitation. "Feeling your hands on me. The way you look at me, whether I've been a complete dumbass, or just made you come-"With a laugh, she ducked her head, but he dipped his down until she was looking at him again. "You want to know what scared me?" he asked. "Yes"He leaned even closer and slid a hand to the nape of her neck. "The thought of never having those things with you again."-Chloe and Sawyer (Head over Heels)”

“He didn't see anything."She rolled to her feet. "I was in your bed! We could have scarred him for life!""Grace, we weren't doing anything. Well, I wasn't. You were snoring.""I don't--" She smoothed her dress down and searched out her sandals, shoving her feet into them. She glanced at herself in the mirror over his dresser and groaned. Hair, wild. Lips, swollen. Face, flushed. Nipples, hard."Dammit!" She clapped her hands over them. "It's like they're broken!”

“So I guess that the next time I make a date with a concussed guy, I should pin a note to his collar so he doesn't forget.""Good plan." His hand was next to hers on the table. He let his thumb glide over her fingers, a small, almost casual touch that sent a shudder through her. "I'm sorry I forgot our date.”

“Beneath her cheek, his heart was thumping steadily. Definitely faster than his usual near-hibernation beat. Lifting her head, she flashed him a tight smile. “I get to you.”“Are you kidding? You own me,” he said, his voice running over her like silk.”

“Give me,” she said.“Don’t you mean please give me?”“You want me to beg?”That smile spread slightly. “Nah. I just heard you beg plenty.”“I did not beg.” But she had. She so had. Still grinning, still naked, he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “My panties, Mark.”

“Mark.” She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers, her entire world anchored on his finger. When it slid inside her, she thunked her head back against the door and panted. Then his thumb brushed her in a slow circle.She cried out against his lips, arching into him, yanking his hair. She couldn’t help it. She was going up in flames. He merely pressed her hard to the door, locking her in place. Continuing the torture, he added another finger. She came hard and fast, the power of it sweeping over her like a tidal wave.”