You’re gorgeous. You’re sexy. You’re … asking me to cut that dress off you? I’m praying for strength.

God, woman.” He closed his fist, not bothering to count off the dozens of other things she shouldn’t do. “You give me heartburn.”“No. Those are orgasms I give you, baby.

Your booty call embargo will remain intact.

That’ll be like catching Niagara fucking Falls with a fly net.

Oh for Christ sakes. Ay carrumba, chimichanga. I have no idea what you’re saying, but shut your pretty pie hole.

Oh, a grenade. But where is the bamboo bazooka?

Chocolate cake and a diamond ring? In bed with the man of my dreams?

She giggled. Giggled. Her cheeks pinked, and goddamn, if this plane didn’t get to the gate and un-board them, he was going to pull the emergency hatch.

American girls shivered and quivered at the Aussie accent whispered against their bodies.