“Oh, for pity’s sake,” she muttered, but stopped fighting him. After a moment of enduring the indignity ofhaving his hands on her, she snapped, “My pistol is in my reticule, which is sitting in Lord Draker’sdrawing room. All right?”The woman was a walking arsenal. “All right.” He released her, not because of what she’d said, butbecause running his hands over her petite but surprisingly womanly figure had perversely aroused him. Hedidn’t want her to know it, however—the female was liable to shoot off his cock for its impertinence.”

“He tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her toward him in the darkness. He knew exactly how she’d respond, her other hand coming up to push him away, her hand touching the bare, hot skin of his chest so that she drew back in surprise, long enough for him to wrap her tightly against his chest, trapping her hand between them. He knew she’d try to jerk her head away when he slid his hand into her hair and tilted her face back for his kiss. And he knew she’d open her mouth for him.What he hadn’t guessed was what it would feel like. [...]He hadn’t known a mouth could feel like that. That a woman, an argumentative, reluctant woman could feel so hot in his arms, so incredibly right that his monumental self control could start to slip.”

“[Tess] “Your penis has forgotten we’re divorced,” she muttered.“My penis always had a thing for you,” he said.The way the words rumbled in his chest, vibrated against her back, shouldn’t have turned her on, but her body remembered him, too, the fit of him, the slide of him, the way he fit, just right. Better than the damn vibrator, which didn’t include his weight over her, his hands on her body, his mouth on her breasts.”

“Oh Lord,” Shirleen groaned, sitting down. “First she wants to be a rock star now she wants to be a stripper.” Then she lifted her hand and snapped her fingers at no one in particular. “Somebody, get her another appletini before we gotta explain to Hector ‘Mr. Edge’ Chavez why his woman wants to strip.”

“Gabriel pulled her over his body to lie on the bed beside him. His kisses pressed her down into the oblivion of the mattress as her hands explored his chest, his shoulders, his face."I want to lay my kill at your feet," he said, more growl than words, and held her tight by her hair as he marked her neck with his teeth.She writhed against him. She wanted to bite him, she wanted to rip the flesh from his back, but most terrible of all, she didn't want him to stop. Her back arched, her body shattered, she howled.”

“Livia set her bags down and walked right into him, feeling his arms close around her. She found the crook of his neck and placed a kiss there. She ran her hands all over his face and through his hair. Here. He’s here.”