“She grabbed the bills. “Alright, you rat bastard, you win.” She stuffed the money in her back pocket.“But I’m only taking it because I’m greedy and desperate, and because there’s no door on that room so you can’t get too frisky. “Fair enough.”“I mean it, Dean. If you try to cop even one feel…”“Me? What about you?” His eyes slid over her like cool icing on hot spice cake. “How about this, double or nothing.”“What are you taking about?”“You touch me first, I keep the hundred. I touch you first, you get two hundred. Nobody touches anybody, the deals stands as is.”She thought it over, but couldn’t see any immediate loopholes other than the threat of her inner-slut emerging, and she could darn well control that little bitch. “Deal.”

“She thought it over, but couldn’t see any immediate loopholes other than the threat of her inner slut emerging, and she could darned well control that little bitch.”

“Did you eat my Twinkies?"She gulped. Keeping her eyes glued to the whip, she said, "Exactly what Twinkies are we talking about?""The Twinkies in the cupboard over the sink. The only Twinkies in the trailer." His fingers convulsed around the coils of leather.Oh, Lord, she thought. Flayed to death for a Twinkle."Well?""It, uh — it won't happen again, I promise you. But they didn't have any special marking on them, so there was no way I could tell they were yours." Her eyes remained riveted on the whip. "And normally I wouldn't have eaten them— I never eat junk food-—but I was hungry last night, and, well, when you think about it, you'll have to admit I did you a favor because they're clogging my arteries now instead of yours."His voice was quiet. Too quiet. In her mind she heard the howl of a rampaging Cossack baying at a Russian moon. "Don't touch my Twinkies. Ever. If you want Twinkies, buy your own.”

“She frowned at the message on his T-shirt: IT ONLYSEEMS KINKY THE FIRST TIME.“It was a gift,” he said.“From Satan?”Something that looked almost like a smile flickered across his face and then disappeared. “You don’t like it, you know what you can do about it.” Hecleared another snarl of water hyacinths.“What if a child saw that shirt?”“Seen any kids today?” He shifted his weight slightly on the seat. “You’re making me sorry I lost my favorite one.” She turned back to the bow. “Idon’t want to hear.”“It says, ‘I’m al for gay marriage as long as both bitches are hot.”

“The point I was trying to make before you interrupted with your inventoryof my personality is that neither of us is going to be able to stay celibate for the next six months."She dropped her eyes. If only he knew that she'd stayed that way all her life.We'll be living in close quarters," he went on. "We're legally married, and it's only natural that we're going to get it on."Get it on? His bluntness reminded her that none of this meant anything to him emotionally, and contrary to all logic, she'd wanted to hear something romantic. With some pique, she said, "In other words, you expect me to keep house, work for the circus, and 'get it on' with you."He thought it over. "I guess that's about the size of it.”

“[Kevin and Molly's adorable banter]"I'm not carrying anything until I see what's on your panties.""It's Daphne, okay?""I'm supposed to believe you're wearing the same underpants you had on yesterday?""I have more than one pair""I think you're lying. I want to see for myself." He dragged her deeper into the pines. While Roo circled them barking, he reached for the snap on her shorts. "Quiet, Godzilla! There's some serious business going on here."Roo obediently quieted.She grabbed his wrists and pushed. "Get away.""That's not what you were saying last night.""Somebody'll see.""I'll tell them a bee got you, and I'm taking out the stinger.""Don't touch my stinger!" She grabbed for her shorts, but they were already heading for her knees. "Stop that!"He peered down at her panties. "It's the badger. You lied to me.""I wasn't paying attention when I got dressed.""Hold still. I've just about found that stinger."She heard herself sigh."Oh, yeah..." His body moved against hers. "There it is.”

“I thought you didn’t like animals.” “I love animals. Where did you get that idea?” Marmie put her paws on his leg, and he picked her up. “From my dog?” “That’s a dog? Jeez, I’m sorry. I thought it was an industrial-waste accident.” His long, lean fingers slid through the cat’s fur. “Slytherin.” She slapped the lid back onto the flour container. What kind of man liked a cat more than he liked an exceptionally fine French poodle? “What did you call me?” “It’s a literary reference. You wouldn’t understand.” “Harry Potter. And I don’t appreciate name calling.”