For some sick reason, fighting with this woman always ended with her panties in
my pocket.
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.
I knew everything happened for a reason. I just wished the reason would hurry up and make itself known.
The look in her eyes told me that under any other circumstances, I would either already be naked with her on top of me, or lying in a pool of my own blood on the rug.
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.
I was starting to see that this wasn't just sex, and it wasn't something just working out of my system. Sex was just the fastest route to the deeper possession that I needed. I was falling in love with her, and falling to fast and hard to easily find any footing.