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“Austin’s PA put something in his Coke, and he had the shits all night long,” John says between fits of laughter. “It wasn’t all night long; it was till there was nothing left inside of me,” I correct him while Noah chuckles. “Wow. I thought my PA hated me,” Noah says. “She caught you fucking her mother on your desk,” I remind him. “She didn’t knock. It wasn’t my fault.” He points at me. “You had sex with her the day before,” I also point out. He shrugs his shoulders, thinking nothing more of it. “At least she didn’t try to kill me.” “She put your face on a billboard with your home address and open invitation for free lodging for the homeless,” John comments, still laughing. “We”
― Natasha Madison, Tempt The Boss

“The blonde turns to me. “So, how you doing?” she says in her best Joey Tribbiani voice.
That she is trying to use the best line ever to be said, I smirk thinking I might have found my soul mate. Okay, maybe my sex mate, for the night.”
― Natasha Madison, Tempt the Playboy

“I shouldn’t use the word ‘car’, because this isn’t a car, it’s a minivan. A big, safe, screams it’s-for-a-family vehicle. I obviously got this in the divorce settlement, while he drives around in his new Mercedes, which is not for families. It’s for cheating bastards who only get their kids every other weekend and once during the week. Making”
― Natasha Madison, Tempt The Boss

“A small container of Rocky Road lands on the counter next to me.

“I figured Rocky Road was appropriate to pave the way to brown town,” she says with a laugh.



The man in front of me takes his receipt, and the cashier, a younger woman, reaches for our purchases as soon as Banner starts laughing at her own joke. The cashier’s eyes go wide when she comprehends.

“Brown Town? Is that up in the foothills, Logan? I’m not sure I’ve heard of it,” a familiar voice says from behind me.

Oh, for Christ’s sake.

I turn around to face Mrs. Harris, her hands full with a box of tea and a bottle of melatonin, but when I open my mouth to respond, nothing comes out.

Banner smiles sweetly and says, “It’s just south of Pussy Ridge. At least, I’m pretty sure it is.”

I choke, and the cashier’s face turns red.

“Pussy Ridge. I haven’t heard of that either. I’ll have to ask Mr. Harris to get out the Rand McNally so we can take a drive there this weekend. I do love my weekend drives.”

I have no idea how Banner is keeping a straight face, but she replies, “I love a good long ride too. Especially when it gets a little rough.”

The older woman smiles. “Me too. Emmy has never been a fan, though. She’s always gotten carsick at the littlest bump.”

Banner finally grins. “That explains so much about her.”

The cashier’s eyes are tearing up as I shove money at her before I bag the ice cream, Doritos, and lube myself.

“See you later, Mrs. Harris. You’ll have to let us know how that drive goes.”
― Meghan March, Real Good Man