Flynn was kissing her again, not to help her forget but to force her to remember. Everything he had meant to her then. Everything he meant to her now. How he always had been, and forever would be, her world.

Shut it, Flynn. Just… oh God, you’ve been impossible to evict, because possession is nine-tenths of the law. You’re inside me. A part of me. But you pulled me close with one hand and crushed my heart with the other, and I can’t go through that again.

Stop trying to rationalize this, man. There is no scenario here that ends with you between this woman’s thighs.

A strong but gentle grip on her nape had pulled her back to make the acquaintance of a warm slab of granite. Callused fingers held her neck while a blunt hand fanned her hip, locking her into position against something hard and hot. It could have been anyone, but after just one afternoon of Flynn-spun intimacy, her body knew its owner.

The human brain was, on the whole, a marvelous thing. It worked perfectly from the day you were born until the moment you needed it to ace an exam or resist the show-and-tell of Flynn Cross’s dick.

He looked like he might break out into an irate merengue any minute. Patrick Swayze reincarnated.

You’re going to need more than an average kissing game to get with me, Cross.”“Nothin’ average about that kiss.”She sighed. “Don’t beg. It’s so unTexan.