SWEETER SAVAGE LOVE
| Amazon.com | Barnes & Noble | Powell's | Books-a-Million | IndieBound |
| Amazon Kindle | B&N Nook | Kobo | iTunes |
believe he'd actually talked Dr. Ginny into hiding inside a coffin with him.
"Don't worry," he assured the woman when she balked at draping her body
over his, face-to-face, in an inadvertently sexual position. "I lost all
my...uh...male urges in the war."
He gave himself a mental pat on the back when he managed to get the words out with
a straight face. Especially considering the fact that her trim body--which, he had to
admit, held some appeal--was covered only by a little leopard chemise and some sinfully
charming undergarment he'd returned to her which she called "panties."
She nodded with understanding at his disclosure about male urges.
Understanding? Lord, I must be a better actor than I'd thought. Or a liar. All
those years as a double agent, I suppose. The Secret Service trains us well.
To his chagrin, the woman, who claimed to be a mind doctor, pursed her full,
naturally red lips--which he refused to view as kissable--and furrowed her smooth brow in
serious contemplation. Which was ludicrous, considering the fact that she was lying on top
of him in an open coffin--a most unserious situation. Even he, who'd lost his sense
of humor--though it was coming back by leaps and bounds--could see how absurd they must
appear. But, no, now she was bracing her arms on either side of his neck and raising her
head to study him better.
"Impotency?" she inquired solicitously.
Cain, who'd been about to replace the lid sealing them in, hooted with glee,
muttering something about him being hoisted on his own petard. More like, hoisted on my
But impotency? He gurgled with speechlessness. This time the woman had gone
too far. "No, I'm not im...impotent," he asserted, barely able to say the word.
"I just don't have the...uh, inclination all that often." Well, that was partly
true. Unlike Cain and Abel, he didn't feel the need to part the thighs of every female in
sight these days. He attributed it to his greater maturity and discrimination.
"Low sex drive," Dr. Ginny diagnosed, bobbing her head in
"Low...low...," he sputtered.
"Oh, God, I can't wait to tell Abel," Cain chortled.
"Men place entirely too much importance on their sex organs. Really. They
need to laugh at themselves a bit more. For example, did you hear what the elephant said
to the naked man?"
"I don't care what the elephant said to--"
"It looks fine but can it pick up peanuts?"