Bette Hansen

“He was the hottest guy she had ever
seen, so out of her league they hadn’t invented his league yet. It was like Future League of Hot Guys We Can’t Place Because They’re Too Fucking Hot.”
― Kate Meader, Playing with Fire

“The next thing Faith knew, she was standing in a lingerie store having an uncomfortable stare down with a mannequin wearing a blue thong. “This is a bad idea.”
― Kelly Moran, All of Me

“Besides, if they continued where they left off, Faith would finish reading the book and Alec would be snoring next to her.”
― Kelly Moran, All of Me

“Oh my god.”

He didn’t turn or say anything even though the frustration in Honor’s voice made it difficult.

“My pants are stuck. I don’t think I can get them off without some help. Jesus, wet jeans are heavy and uncooperative.”

A grin stretched across his face. “You want my help?”

She let out a deep breath. “Yes, but you have to close your eyes.”

“You going commando tonight?” he teased.

“No, but…”

He shut his eyes and turned. She took his outstretched hand and tugged him down to the ground. Once there, she helped him latch on to the bunched up denim at her thighs, he guessed. Do not peek, Bishop. Do not peek.
“But?”

“My panties are white and now see-through and there’s not a lot to them.”

“Gotcha.” There wasn’t a red-blooded man alive who wouldn’t peek. “Let’s get these off you.” He pulled, she pushed and wiggled, and he got the pants to her feet in no time.

“Thank you,” she said, a little out of breath.

“No problem.”

“Bryce!”

“What?” Christ, she had sexy legs, and the barely-there material at their juncture left little to the imagination, so his thoughts leaped to about a dozen dirty scenarios.

“Your eyes are open!”
― Robin Bielman, Blame it on the Kiss