“The good Lord had been having a very creative day when he made Connor McKenzie”

“For God's sake, Connor, will you leave my fucking belly button the fuck alone and either move up a fucking bit or down a fucking bit!”

“Grace’s gaze skimmed over her, taking in the various marks of possession that decorated her flesh. “Well, short of having ‘Property of Trey Coleman’ tattooed on your forehead, he couldn’t have made it any clearer that he considered you his, could he?”

“There's nothing depraved about sex. Of course with a little creativity, some toys and a whole lot of dirty talk, you can change that.”

“I think I've had a shit, Shaya." The poor woman sounded distressed and mortified. "Have I, Grace? Don't lie to me." "No, you haven't.""I have, you're lying. Is she lying, Lydia?""No," Lydia quickly said, "you haven't, I promise.”

“She had long ago concluded that it was impossible to find guys who were considerate and sensitive as well as hot. Well, impossible to find some that didn’t already have boyfriends of their own anyway.”

“Here's something for you to remember; you might have been born into money, but you came out of a vagina the same as everyone else. Popping out of one that's rich doesn't make you anything but lucky, or susceptible to being stuck your own arse. Whichever.”