“What?” he demanded testily.Trammell raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”“You’re thinking something, though. You’ve got that shit-eating smirk on your face.”“Why would anyone smirk while they eat shit?” Trammell asked rhetorically.”

“What good is having a friend who's a cop if he won't give me inside information?""So you can ask him to look at a piece of shit pistol after you've already bought it, and pronounce it a piece of shit.”

“He didn't believe in miracles. If he'd had any philosophy in life in ran along the lines of the classic shit happens. Usually it was bad shit, sometimes it was good shit, but it was always random shit. You lived your life, & when the run was ended, that was it. Nothing.”

“I thought you were a drunk.""A drunk?""Bloodshot eyes, dirty clothes, getting home in the wee hours of the morning, making a lot ofnoise, grouchy all the time as if you had a hangover… what else was I to think?"He rubbed his face. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I should have showered, shaved, and dressed in asuit before I came out to tell you that you were making enough noise to raise the dead.”

“I’m going to go," he said."All right."He didn’t move. Then: "I don’t want to.""Do it anyway."He chuckled. "You’re a hard woman, Faith Devlin.""Hardy.""I didn’t know him. He isn’t real to me. Did you love him?""Yes." But not the way I love you. Never like that.”

“Milla put her hands on his ribs, holding on as he braced his weight on one arm while with his other hand he guided his penis to her and in the same rough motion pushed deep inside.He froze in place, his breath panting between his parted lips as they stared at each other. She couldn’t move; the feel of him inside her was too sharp, almost painful in its intensity. Their gazes met in the mellow lamplight, and she was mesmerized by the tension in his face, the way his steely muscles were locked as if he didn’t dare move. It built and built, that clawing need, and yet she remained poised on the razor’s edge of something she knew she couldn’t control. His chest suddenly heaved on a convulsive breath, and he moved in a long, deep stroke that took him all the way to the hilt.”

“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.”