I don’t want to walk out that door and lose what we found in this room.

The way you seem nervous makes me think you don’t know that I’m in love with you.

For some sick reason, fighting with this woman always ended with her panties in my pocket.

I want you to watch. And tomorrow when you’re sore, I want you to remember who did it to you.

Women don’t always want to be treated like we’re delicate, or rare, or somehow more precious. We want to be wanted. We want sex to be just as raw as you do.

If only he would keep his mouth shut, he’d be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I’d occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.

Beauty is only skin-deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone.

you put the seat down to piss, don't you?" I asked, grinning."Nah. Don't like getting my dick wet.

I need to start using a hurricane naming system for my hangovers,” he mumbles, stretching out on the couch. “I’m calling this one Abby. She’s a total whore.

I closed my eyes, pressing my teeth into his neck, biting down, giving him every bit of pleasure could think. I wanted him to want me so much that it didn't matter that I was inexperienced or unsure. I wanted to find a way to erase the memory of every woman who came before me. I wanted to feel--to know--that he belonged to me.I wondered for a sharp, painful beat how many other women had thought the exact same thing.