She didn’t sound overjoyed. She didn’t sound even slightly joyed.
Put me down, I’m too heavy.” “You’re small enough to fit in my pocket.
It's all life is. Just going 'round kissing people.
He’d done it like he did everything else—with passion and total disregard for how much it might embarrass her.
He should probably make love to her.
Okay, first of all, I didn’t sleep with you to make amends. I slept with you because I wanted to.” He still didn’t say anything, and she pointed at him again. “And you know what? It was your own damn fault. It was those jeans you wear, and the tool belt. It was the size of your hammer!
Jake became excruciatingly aware of her, there, right behind him. The small grunts and groans as she placed each foot carefully on the slick ground reverberated in his gut. He wanted to turn around and tell her to shut the hell up. She sounded as though she was having sex. Good sex.
The man in 4B wondered if he could have your autograph. He told me his daughter is a huge fan.” Fan? What the hell? Dylan lifted himself up and looked over the back of his seat. Since when did covert operators have fans?
You two were in a cave together?’ said Miss Simpkins in horror. ‘Yes,’ said Kate, ‘and it was very, very dark.
He couldn’t just come right out with it, could he? No, that would scare her off. He had to be subtle, build up to it. Explain himself. “I love you.” Of course, straight to the point was also an effective strategy.
Sounds like you kids have some talking to do. I'll be eavesdropping from the kitchen.
Regin the Radiant and Emmaline Troy: 'Alrighty then, have it your way- you're on your own... Now, if you come across a leech, no offense, remember your training.' 'None taken. And would that be the sword training where you fly past my defenses and swat me on the ass, chirping, 'Dead!'? Another swat. 'Dead!'? Yeah, I'll get right on that.' 'No, that would be the training where you sprint like hell whenever you hear that I'm looking for you to train.
Is there somebody out there? Amy, is that you?” her mother called. “No. Tell me this isn’t happening.” Quinn rested his forehead against hers. “Has she got a wiretap on you or something? I swear, she’s like a walking hard-on detector.” Amy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Quinn levered himself up on his arms. “Mrs. P., if you value your life, you’ll go back inside and turn off the light right now.
Was it just her, or did lovers look more adoringly at each other in this city? Especially in the springtime. 'Die, bastards.' She sighed. It wasn't their fault that they were bastards who should die.
I said alone!” He nodded in agreement. “Aye, you usually say that, and I still stay. It’s our way.
We’re adults. I might be a little more of an adult if you’re counting years but I bet I have a lower IQ, so that puts us pretty much even.
It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.
Three Denises wobbled in front of her, all of them watching her with fond concern. “You’re a sweetie. I appreciate you cheering me on from the sidelines. But I think I need to go to the bathroom now and throw up.
He wasn't aware of it but when he smiled he looked like an amiable bear. When he didn't smile he didn't look amiable
I want you to know, chickens aren’t sexy. Not to me.” This was met with silence. “Are you there?” She was slurring her words now, which was embarrassing, so she took a deep breath. “Cam? Can you hear me?” “Yes, chickens aren’t sexy. Uh…I don’t think they’re meant to be.
