“He was frigging Dionysus! The man who invented the three-way! He’d had sex every possible way known to man. He’d made improvements to the Kama Sutra. And he was suffering from a major case of wet noodle.”

“He didn’t expect that question to send her tripping over her own two feet and flying into the bookstore’s erotica section he’d followed her to. Luckily he had fast hands and caught her before her head could make contact with the Kama Sutra.”

“Take the Kama Sutra. How many people died from the Kama Sutra as opposed to the Bible? Who wins?”

“In her own fumbling way, she’d reminded him he was just a man, fallible, needful, a member of the supremely imperfect human race…and shamefully undeserving of what she had to offer. Looking at Billie, touching her, tasting her, had filled him with a wanting fiercer than any he’d known. For the first time, he was faced with something he couldn’t truly have, because of what he’d become.”

“They had a fabulous sex life. Drake was an attentive, tender lover who took his time in pleasing her. But every once in a while something in him changed and she caught a glimpse of the truly dangerous man he really was. She hadn’t tamed him, not one bit. He just chose to show her a tender side he said he’d only discovered with her.But sometimes the tiger in him growled and clawed its way to the surface. And then the sex was incandescent.”

“Nothing had worked out the way he’d hoped. He should’ve expected it by now, maybe. After all, things never had before. And yet he kept on pissing into the wind. He was like a man whose door’s too low, but instead of working out how to duck, keeps on smacking his head into the lintel every day of his miserable life. He wanted to feel sorry for himself, but he knew he deserved no better. A man can’t do the things he’d done, and hope for happy endings.”