Don't Speak to Strange Girls — Harry Whittington

''Tell yourself the cold truth -- she's a tramp!''

Clay Stuart flinched. ''I guess we've been enemies too long to be polite to each other, Kay.''

Kay's voice was heated. ''For years I've been your doormat, secretary, armor, weapon...everything you needed.'' But Kay knew that was not entirely true. Even that first time they'd gone to bed -- and how many women had he had since? -- he'd been a blister of hurt and rages, ready to burst, and even then she'd known he needed something more.

And now he had it -- in Joanne Stark, tease and tramp. And Joanne Stark was destroying him -- destroying Clay Stuart, the guy who was known as Big Daddy Sex, sniffing out all the broads for miles around.

''If you ever manage to get rid of her,'' Kay said, ''you'll never know how lucky you are.''

''Yeah'' Clay said. ''God knows I'm lucky. I stink with luck.''