Women were always complications, bless their perverse little hearts.
Linda HowardAt the moment, he kinda knew how the male praying mantis felt when he
was approaching Ms. Mantis, knowing the sex was going to be great but he was going to gethis head bitten off.
Ah, well. Some things were worth losing your head.
Honey, the only experts in PMS are men. That's why men are so good at fighting wars; they learned Escape and Evade at home.
Linda HowardHis mouth was hot and hungry, and he kissed the way no man should kiss and still be allowed to run free.
Linda HowardHe snorted. "They were probably scared."
"Scared!" For some reason, that hurt, just a little. She felt her lower lip wobble. "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Worse," he said cheerfully. "You're hell on wheels. You're just lucky I like hot rods
He lifted the arm covering his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. "I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you."
"What do you mean, trouble?" She sat up, glaring back at him. "I am not trouble! I'm a very nice person except when I have to deal with jerks!"
"You're the worst kind of trouble," he snapped. "You're marrying trouble.
What are you doing?” she cried in protest.
“Playing,” he said, the single word rough, almost guttural.
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You were happy last night. This morning is a different story."
"You think I have a hangover. I don't. Well a little headache, but not much. Just let this be a warning to you if you keep me from sleeping again tonight."
"I kept you from sleeping? I kept you from sleeping?" he repeated incredulously. "You are the same woman who shook me out of a sound sleep at two a.m. yesterday morning, aren't you?"
"I didn't shake you. I kind of bounced on you, but I didn't shake you."
"Bounced," he repeated.
"You had a hard-on. I couldn't let it go to waste, could I?"
"You could have woke me up before you started not to let it go to waste."
"Look," she said exasperated, "If you don't want used, don't lie on your back with it sticking up like that. If that isn't an invitation, I don't know what is."
"I was asleep. It does that on its own." It was doing it on its own right know, as a matter of fact. It poked her in the stomach.
She looked down... and smiled. It was a smile that made his testicles draw up in fear.
With a sniff, she turned her back on him and ignored him as she finished showering.
"Hey!" he said, to get her attention. Alarm was in his tone. "You aren't going to let this one go to waste are you?
...We have seven people who knew the skewers were there: the wedding planner, the reception hall manager, the dressmaker, the florist, the veil-maker, the cake-maker, and the caterer. I haven't ruled out the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker, either.
Linda HowardShe had no sense of time, of what day it was, or anything beyond the bed she was on and the unceasing battle she fought with the Great Bitch of Pain.
The nurses talked to her, too, explaining over and over what had happened to her, what they were doing, why they were doing it. She didn‟t care, so long as they delivered the drugs that kept the Great Bitch at bay. Of course, there came a time—way too soon, by her way of thinking— when her surgeon ordered a decrease in the drugs. He wasn‟t the one in agony, with his sternum cut in two, so what did he care? He was the one wielding the saw and scalpel, not the one on the receiving end. She had only a vague idea which of her visitors was the surgeon, but as her mind began clearing she memorized some particularly salty things she wanted to say to him. Okay, so he'd had to cut her sternum in half, but cutting her drugs in half? Bastard.
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