I want to take you under the moonlight.

You do bad things to me, Carrie,” he grinned, “Very bad things.

Eyes locked, they stared. She felt bleeding pain down to her soul.

Tasting what could have been—what should have been—didn't make it easier.

He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. Tingles exploded down her neck, shooting toward her navel.

I want us to be more spontaneous. I want the superhero to come home and take me. Nothing to do with being his wife. Everything to do with uncontrollable testosterone.