“Sex makes people dumb.” Joss laughed. Never had truer words been spoken. “That’s deep there, cowboy.” “Hey.” He grinned. “I have layers,… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“Do I look stupid to you? That thing is just plain crazy.” “And when was the last time you did something crazy?”… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“So you know how to ride a horse and muster and...stuff.” He laughed. “Yes. I know how to do stuff.” He squeezed… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“Whatever am I going to do with that monster, Ryder Davis?” He gave a husky laugh. “I think you could probably just tell it… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“You should come and watch me.” She frowned. “Watch you?” A small smiled nudged his lips. She didn’t need to be a mind reader… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“If anyone had told Joss last week that she’d be dry humping a twenty-seven-year-old she’d met only five days prior in the bathroom of… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“You said he was a perfectly adequate lover." "Perfectly adequate? I dont suppose I ever said that about you?" She only had to look… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“He’s obviously very well trained. He’s probably just confused about being handed around a bit and is acting out.” Ryder didn’t think Tiny was… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“I saw you on that field tonight, you rugby guys look like you were born knowing how to fuck.” — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“Now, grip the bull tight with your thighs.” She dutifully tensed her thighs. “Not tense. Grip. Real hard with your whole thigh.” His voice… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“I think you just made me forget my own name. Not even amnesia managed that.” — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“She was about to take a step back when his hand slid onto her leg. Slow and lazy. “You don’t wear your scrubs home,”… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“I’ve got some good physical therapy for you. Any good at fencing?” Joss almost choked on her mouthful of coffee. She sat up straight… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“He took it off, and she could see his hair was damp with sweat, as was his shirt on closer inspection. He mustn’t have… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“What do you want?” he whispered against the thick thud of her carotid pulse. “Tell me what you want, baby.” No one had ever… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
“You told me your mother wants grandchildren.” “My mother wants George Clooney to move to the farm too but that ain’t ever going to… — Amy Andrews Copy Share Image
