Divine and Dateless

Maybe Mr. Lovelace was ready to shit out whatever bug had died in his ass.

Holy shit, he was harder that a rod of steel, and as his leg ground out a torturous rhythm between my thighs, I realized I was hotter than spring in Seattle. This was not a dream, this was real, and I had just fondled the boner of the Grim Reaper.

You wish for what's called wooing. This customary game, where the man shows the woman that resistance is impractical, strikes me as quite pointless.

Some people say Earth is the bottom level of Purgatory.' She pointed toward the floor and frowned. 'I call it the top floor of Hell.

Why did all the hot guys have to be such jerks, and why did I still want to sleep with them?

I sure didn’t want to try to take a ride on that pony only to find out he had no more get up and go.

I secretly hoped if Grim could enjoy happy hour on level thirteen, I was allowed to enjoy mind-blowing orgasms in Heaven. It was supposed to be paradise, right?

I realized I was wetter than spring in Seattle.

Inés swatted at him while batting her lashes. “You always know how to make a lady blush. I bet those brownies aren’t half as tasty as you, Mr. Delicious.