“When he bit into the flesh there softly, I almost accused him right there of lying to me about me being his first girlfriend, because he was way too good at this.”

“I dipped into his brain. He wasn't happy that I wasn't wearing a bra, because my boobs distracted him. He was thinking I was a bit too curvy for his taste. He was thinking he'd better not think about me that way anymore. He was missing his wife.”

“You…made…me…faint,” I accused him dizzily.“What am I going to do with you?” he groaned in exasperation. “Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me! Today you pass out on me!”I laughed weakly, letting his arms support me while my head spun.“So much for being good at everything,” he sighed.“That's the problem.” I was still dizzy. “You're too good. Far, far too good.”

“He never hurries. He never shows his cards. He always hangs up first....Like when we first started talking on the phone, he would always be the one who got off first. When we kissed, he always pulled away first. He always kept me just on the edge of crazy. Feeling like I wanted him too much, which just made me want him more....[It was] excruciating and wonderful. It feels good to want something that bad. I thought about him the way you think about dinner when you haven't eaten for a day and a half. Like you'd sell your soul for it.”

“When I first met him I didn't want to look into his eyes because I knew I would be able to tell how he thought about me and that scared me”

“He liked me to help him when he did things. He explained what I didn't know, warned me when to stand aside, never told me to get out of his way because he could do it faster, and thanked me for helping. There were moments when he needed me to rescue him, and he never blamed me for it, or got angry about it.”