Her breathing hitched and his all but seized in his lungs for the want of her, the taste of her, the feel of her under his hands. His lips whispered against the curve of hers, where her cheek ended and her very sexy mouth began.

Take me inside. Show me if a fireman knows how to start a fire.

Tell me to stop, Sugar, or I'm going to start a firestorm of emotion neither one of us will know how to handle." She smiled. "I've always loved storms." He jerked her face closer and her heart rate kicked up. "Then it's time you were introduced to a Florida hurricane.

You always were the hot head. You got a temper in you that can't be tamed, yet you also got a soft spot for stray dogs, kids in trouble and damsels in distress. See why folks label you a complex conundrum.

A smart woman knows when to listen to her man." Her man? "He is most definitely not my man. He's not my type." "Type? If he was any more your type, he'd have you sitting in his lap.

Ice Man, his friends had called him. She'd give him a different nickname, like Sex on a Stick or Horny Toad.

She tugged on his hair. "I'll have you know I'm no weakling." He grinned and kissed her forehead. "No, it takes a strong woman to kill a truck.