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He was thirty-two years old, and that tone, that look, could still make his balls shrink to marbles.
“What makes you think you’re going to want to stop having sex with me?� She got out two glasses, two small plates, two forks. “The law of averages.� “Oh, that. I defy the law of averages.� “A lot of people believe they do. They don’t.� She poured the wine, studying him as she offered a glass. “I like your nose.� “Abigail, you fucking fascinate me. Why do you like my nose?�
“I’ve never been romantic, not before you. But you make me want moonlight, and wildflowers and whispers in the dark.�
