playboy

She hadn__ come for any of that. She came for him. Twenty feet in front of her, leaning back against the waist-high bar, stood the man she__ spent all day tracking down__he infamous Dillon James. The man who would soon have the power to take away everything she held dear.

He held his hand out, palm up, watching her with soft, penetrating eyes, deep, dark eyes that called to her the longer she stared at them. __ow __out you give me the benefit of the doubt every once in a while, hmm? I__ like a chance to prove I__ not that stupid kid anymore.

Doubt filled her eyes. __hat are we betting for, anyway?__e hadn__ thought about that, but it took his brain all of three seconds to come up with an answer. He knew damn well what he wanted from her. Had for years.__ kiss._ The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, but once out, he didn__ want to take them back. __ne kiss after you come back and see she__ all right.

I__ broken. Fucked up. I feel sick. I can__ breathe. It__ like someone__ snaked their fingers around my heart, capturing it in a crushing grip. It__ Emma. This is her doing. Well, it won__ fucking bleed for her. It won__ bleed for anyone. It__ black. I__ dead inside.

I completely lost control. I was out of my fucking mind with the taste of her, the feel of her, those little moans of pleasure she made. Fuck, that woman completely unmans me. She consumes me to the point where my brain stops functioning entirely_.

I'm friends with a guy who is friends with a former Playboy model. So I guess you could say I'm 1 degree away from 212 degrees.

They may take you for a fool, promise to shower you with the world, use their canny devastating tongue to manipulate and dominate your mind, but its better to put them bulshit people at arms length rather than falling into the arms of infidelity.

The occupational hazard of being a Playboy Bunny is the aching facial muscles brought on by obligatory smiles.

The playboy is not necessarily a man who has many girlfriends, or a man who has many women, or a man who has slept with many women. That is old. But there is a new breed of the playboy and he is the man who remains single in attempts to make every woman feel as if he belongs to her, he remains a virgin in order to make every woman feel like she will be the first one, and in the end he may choose a very unattractive woman to adorn his side, so that in all circumstances, he will shine as the more beautiful one. This is the new breed of playboy. And it is a very evil one.

And believe me, darling, there's no man more faithful than a reformed playboy. They make far better husbands than men who haven't had time to sow their wild oats before they marry, so go off the rails at about forty-five because they suddenly realise that they've missed out on life and if they don't hurry up it's going to be too late.

I once knew of a minstrel who bragged of having had a thousand women, one time each. He would never know what I knew, that to have one woman a thousand times, and each time find in her a different delight, is far better. I knew now what gleamed in the eyes of old couples when they stared at each other across a room...My familiarity with her was a more potent love elixir than any potion sold by a hedge-witch in the market.

I__ not the white-picket-fence kind of guy. So don__ go building castles in the air. You__l get trapped in the rubble when they collapse.

In 1969 I gave up women and alcohol - it was the worst 20 minutes of my life.

He was the kind of young man whose handsome face has brought him plenty of success in the past and is now ever-ready for a new encounter, a fresh-experience, always eager to set off into the unknown territory of a little adventure, never taken by surprise because he has worked out everything in advance and is waiting to see what happens, a man who will never overlook any erotic opportunity, whose first glance probes every woman's sensuality, and explores it, without discriminating between his friend's wife and the parlour-maid who opens the door to him. Such men are described with a certain facile contempt as lady-killers, but the term has a nugget of truthful observation in it, for in fact all the passionate instincts of the chase are present in their ceaseless vigilance: the stalking of the prey, the excitement and mental cruelty of the kill. They are constantly on the alert, always ready and willing to follow the trail of an adventure to the very edge of the abyss. They are full of passion all the time, but it is the passion of a gambler rather than a lover, cold, calculating and dangerous. Some are so persistent that their whole lives, long after their youth is spent, are made an eternal adventure by this expectation. Each of their days is resolved into hundreds of small sensual experiences - a look exchanged in passing, a fleeting smile, knees brushing together as a couple sit opposite each other - and the year, in its own turn, dissolves into hundreds of such days in which sensuous experience is the constantly flowing, nourishing, inspiring source of life.