It was like he was a caveman grunting, “You woman. Me man. Let’s make babies together.
Men were born to protect and love, and our women help us to serve a higher purpose.
Barbaric is letting the woman suffer to be alone for the rest of her life.
The supernova sun would be cooler than the fire lighting our desire.
You might be able to kiss like a rock star, but you’ve got to get over this macho trip. You don’t own me.
The sea of reporters on her lawn made Loretta Brooks do a double take.
It was the kind of scream that would be in a horror movie right before someone got chopped up into little bitty pieces.
Having someone this male next to her made her soul feel exhilarated and convey brazenly suggestive, female, liberal ideas to her inner id.
She was in control of her life, even though it seemed she wasn’t. All she had to do was take the steering wheel and start driving.
There was an electric buzzing sound that was constantly on, acting as background music like a million cicadas in the forest. A constant white noise.
She had to remember not to look at him when he smiled like that.
That sounded sweet enough to almost be intelligent, but it was chauvinistic as hell.
When they confronted her like this, she felt like a delicate freaking time bomb just waiting for a time and a place to explode.
There is no better place to heal a broken heart than on the back of a horse.
This wasn’t the Dark Ages, and she wasn’t living in a third world nation where women didn’t have any rights and were treated unequally.