Codi Gary

“Gripping her hips in his hands, he thrust into her, and her eyes closed, her head tilting to the side as he pumped in and out of her, wondering how a quickie in the back of a limo could be the hottest sex he’d had in a long time. It’s her. It’s always been her.”

“Look, you don’t know what makes me tick, so stop assuming you do.”

“The trouble with sexy is people have different tastes. Some guys like girls in flashy skimoy clothes with big hair and cowboy boots. Other guys think shy girls that are less obvious are more desirable. Some guys check out her body and others look at her face. It’s all about personal preference.” “What kind of girls do you like?”

“I made a mistake. Men and women can’t be friends. Statistically, impossible. One of the friends is always a little in love with the other or at least sexually attracted to them, and sex ruins friendships.”

“Maybe that’s what makes it so hard. When you spend years thinking and dreaming about someone and have them fall back into your life? Sounds like fate to me.”

“Want to stay over at my place tonight?” “But I don’t have anything to sleep in,” “Who said we’re going to be sleeping?”

“Kissing Travis was like licking raw cookie dough off the spoon; it might be bad for her, but it was too delicious to care.”

“You make me crazy,” she muttered as she obeyed. “Likewise,” he countered.”

“She didn’t have to act like she couldn’t wait to have him, because that was exactly what was making her slip her bra down her arms so eagerly.”

“He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Who knew Miss California would be good in a bar fight.”

“You have exactly three seconds to get out of here before I do everything I’ve been thinking about since the first day I saw you. You decide. Now.”

“I hate that you went through hell for years and that you suffered. But without your past, you and I wouldn’t have a future.”

“Make Me Crazy. Make me nuts! I don’t care as long as you’re here. With me.”

“Oh, honey. You picked the wrong bear to poke.”

“What was it about this infuriating woman that reduced him to a twelve-year-old at the pool?”

“In fact, I’ve been thinking; lips like that have got to be soft as a rose petal. You wouldn’t mind if I tested them out, would ya, sweetheart?”

“She was the best friend he’d ever had, and he’d tried to resist messing it up, tried not to feel anything else for her, but it was inevitable. He was meant to love Gemma Carlson.”