Davy's kiss tasted like vodka and disaster, and even while she kissed him back, Tilda thought, I'm never going into a closet with this man again. He slipped his hand under her T-shirt, and she said, "You know," as his hand slid up to her breast, but the only thing left to say was, I'm not that kind of girl, and of course she was.

Author: Jennifer Crusie