I got it! I got it!” Heeb declared triumphantly. Evan stopped in the middle of his kitchenette to hear Heeb’s idea. “Sex in the Title.”“Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying I need.”“No, that’s the title: ‘Sex in the Title.’”“You want me to call my novel ‘Sex in the Title?’”“Yeah. Isn’t it great?

... I believe strongly in condoms. They avert babies and disease. They make you seem responsible, not slutty. They make the girl relax too, because you’re taking care of the risky part. Like you’re a professional. Roll it on, squeeze the tip, turn back to her, ready, set go. Like I’d just done a little disappearing act on myself and became something confident and wonderful. You can’t see through my latex disguise! You will love this so let’s get down! You don’t want to know how many times this worked in my favor.God I feel like a fucking asshole sometimes. All the time, really.

How do you know she had sex?” Dallas asks.“Every time a penis touches Britain, I receive a telepathic notification.”“Oh,” Dallas says with a straight face. “Well that explains a lot.

Having had virtually no contact with the outside world for the last few weeks, Evan had temporarily forgotten the social norms governing shopping conduct or approaching celebrities in public.

The official recruiting process for their posse began. Because Carlos, Narc, and Trevor each had high SQs, Heeb and Evan reasoned that adding the three to their group would raise the average SQ of each group member (much the way that colleges recruit individuals with higher test scores to increase the average test scores of their matriculated students).

And as their penile pain began to subside, the two men were able to form more complex thoughts, resulting in a collaborative work: the development of a worldview that might be described as “penilosophy.

I had gotten so used to being alone, but never entirely used to it. Never used to it enough to stop wanting the alternative.

People should think that being a writer is cool. Even if you’re just a starving writer. Besides, most great writers were starving at one point or another. It comes with the title.

You focus on a single star,” I explained, as I searched for my spot. “Then you spin around, staring at that one star, until you can’t stand anymore.” I started spinning to demonstrate. “Then you lie down to watch the stars spinning above you while your star remains still.

You focus on a singer star,” I explained, as I searched for my spot. “Then you spin around, staring at that one star, until you can’t stand anymore.” I started spinning to demonstrate. “Then you lie down to watch the stars spinning above you while your star remains still.

Can I speak to Sayvyer, please?”“You’re looking for the savior? At 1:15 a.m.?”“No. her name’s Sayvyer.”“There’s no savior here. Especially not at 1:15 a.m.

I don't think I blushed once in my entire life before I met you," I say."There will be a lot of things your body never did before you met me," he brags unabashedly.

When it comes to you, against my better judgment and my will, I find myself promising things I never thought I could promise anyone.

That man has something fucked up on his mind.

This dress is what I want to see on you tomorrow evening and what I want to take off you tomorrow night," he whispers.

After the way you have accepted and slipped so perfectly into my life, feeding my desires," he says, cupping my face in his hands as the water streams down us, "I want to share everything with you, Evan.

I've learned that I'd rather wait for you than be with any other woman when you're all I can think about.

I've let it slide because you're new at this, but the sub doesn't get to demand to be fucked.

You want fucked?

Evan Lucien, if it is my last act upon this Earth," he says, his eyes intense and shadowed in the lantern light, "I will make you come.

I sat at the computer and started my BDSM research in earnest. I learned three things: I still very much like the idea of wielding the power, I do seem to have an inclination toward the opposite in spite of myself, and there are some things on the internet that you simply cannot unsee.

I felt sorry for her, baby, guilty and responsible. That's all it was. Once she started talking about you, I could have thrown her off the deck with no remorse. I know there are no words that can take away what you saw, just please say you understand. Liz is nothing to me, Evan, but you...you're everything.

We'll worry about cock holding later.

You take pleasure in my disregard for her because in your fantasies, you're different - superior and singular in my eyes. You are, Evan, all of those things, and deep down, you want what I'm offering. You want to be dominated, guided, cherished.

Little girl," Cain begins, moving in close and speaking deliberately. "I know exactly what I want, but as long as you insist on continuing this charade, I will not claim you as mine again until you beg to hear those words from me." I stare at him, stunned at how the same cocksure attitude that floods my mind with contempt floods my body with excitement as he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I don't beg," I hiss."Not yet," is all he says.

Tease me like that again, and I'll put you over my knee," Cain threatens, and my poor impulse control kicks into overdrive."I'm not teasing.

How bad will it hurt?" I ask suddenly as Cain pulls the car onto the road to head back to my house. "How bad will what hurt?" "The spankings, the torture, all the ways you want to punish me." "I'm not a sadist, Evan. I don't get off on hurting women.""So it won't hurt?""Oh, it will, but you'll love the way it hurts," he says, and as his words fall upon my ears in a harmony of exhilaration and foreboding, I think I'm beginning to understand.

I'll wait for you as long as it takes, Evan," he says."I'll test your patience," I warn, my smile beginning to show itself again."You already do.

You're the mold.

So what is it, Evan? What is it that is making your mouth say 'no' when every other part of you is screaming 'yes'?" "Screaming?""Screaming.

I have every right to go out tonight and fuck anyone I like, little girl. What I'm telling you is that I don't want to fuck anyone else.

You and I," I intertwined my fingers with his, "are one.""Until the day I die," he promised, "And even after that.""For the eternity?" I whispered on his lips."Evermore.

Wait here.” I ran back up to my room to grab his blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt, still in my possession. Back on the porch, I handed it over. “My shirt. I forgot you had it.” “It’s ‘my’ shirt. You need to go home tonight and sleep in it. I made the mistake of washing it and now it doesn’t smell like you anymore.” He turned the shirt over and over in his hand, laughing and shaking his head. “And I want it back first thing in the morning. You read me?

It’s funny, isn’t it?” he said, something odd in his voice. “It’s funny how some people show they love people with dramatic proclamations and huge displays and romantic gestures…but for some people, it’s in the small things. Like the small things you do for him.

Evan stopped completely. He was staring at her with those intense eyes. Staring right into her. Just like he had in those couple of moments when she had thought for a split second, that he wanted to kiss her.