“She gave his hand a small squeeze. "Jason, if we're going to try this then I'd like to
take things slow." He frowned. "What I mean is nothing beyond the level we were at
last night." She worried her lip between her teeth. "What I mean is no actual sex."
He narrowed his eyes on her. "But, you'll still sleep with me naked and let me do a
hundred other naughty things to you?" he asked in a serious tone.
"Yes."
He brushed his lips against hers again and moved back a few inches to look into her
eyes. "And you'll still cook for me and call me Master?"
Her lips twitched. "Yes to the cooking and not a chance in hell for the other."
He sighed wearily. "Fine, how about Lord and Master?"
"Uh...no."
"God?"
"Nope."
"My liege?"
"Wait.....no."
He gave her one of his lopsided smiles. "I'll wear you down eventually.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps

“What if I promise to make you a batch of brownies tomorrow?" she asked, deciding
to use his love of baked goods against him.
He snorted in disbelief as he got to his feet. "I'm not some whore you can buy with a
pan of yummy baked goods, woman. How dare you insult me?" he said on a sniff as
he folded his arms over his chest and did his best to look put out.
"Fine," Haley said with a sigh. "What if I promise to make a big bowl of frosting tomorrow and let you lick it off me?"
She had to bite back a smile as Jason shifted anxiously while he licked his lips and ran his eyes hungrily down her body. "Buttercream?" he croaked out.
"Mmmmhmm," she said, walking over to him. She cupped the back of his head and
gently tugged him down for a quick kiss. "And if you're good I might lick some off you," she said, loving the idea.
"Get your own bowl of frosting. I don't share," he simply said, giving her one last kiss before walking out the door, whistling happily, no doubt thinking about the large bowl of frosting he was going to devour tomorrow.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps

“He sighed heavily. "You pissed me off."
Well, that was totally unexpected....sort of.
"Hey, I said I was sorry about hitting Mitch with that sword. How was I supposed to know the thing would leave a welt?" she said defensively.
"That's not what I'm talking about. That didn't bother me."
"Is it because I kicked your ass at skee ball?"
"No! And that game is rigged anyway so it doesn't count."
"Riigghhht," she said, drawing out the word. She thought over the rest of the night and couldn't figure out what she'd done. "Okay, you're gonna have to help me out here because I'm drawing a blank."
"I'm pissed because all those men hit on you and not once did you tell any of them to f*ck off because you had a boyfriend!" he yelled.
Her face went expressionless. She blinked once and then again. Then she burst into uncontrollable laughter.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps