Lean on Me

Awww, that's sweet. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a well-made implement of pain.

People—especially men—don't always know what they want. You try, and if it doesn't work, then you may quit.” With a broken heart. As if she'd read her mind, Abuelita frowned and scolded, “Hearts mend, but lost chances are gone forever.

You little subs make me nervous. Being around you is too much like walking into a room filled with tiny kittens and trying not to step on one.

I'm not likely to forget someone slapping my butt with a big piece of wood.

I do like seeing you in chains, darlin'.

Dios, she'd never come so hard in her life. How many people died this way? How would he ever explain to the ambulance crews that he'd chained his girlfriend out on the deck and killed her with too many orgasms?

A girl could get to hate Doms.

Marcus stepped behind the bar, saying, “Dan sent me over to assist you and learn how to tend the bar.” Doms could be pain-in-the-ass mother hens.

Maybe I'll just stand here for the half hour and pretend to be a statue. “You were given an order, sub,” he said softly. Or not.

In faded leathers and boots, he sure wasn't a clotheshorse like Antonio, and he was sure a lot bigger. The brown leather pants clung to long legs, and his vest opened over a thickly muscled chest. His neck was corded, his arms solid. A gold band circled one darkly tanned biceps. His face… She frowned. All rough lines and craggy bones, he looked like a hard-edged Boromir from Lord of the Rings. His mouth was set in a firm line. And didn't that just figure she'd end up with Boromir? At least Aragorn had a sense of humor.

Madre de Dios, the way he looks at you, like he's just waiting to get you into bed.