Now, listen Tyler,' Lara said, feeling a little impatient. She rather liked a cuddle after sex, and a bit of kissing. But a guilt trip was absolutely unacceptable, even if they were lying naked on someone else's kitchen table.
That was how it always was with Colleen: No matter how sad she felt, there was always this little bit of hope - like a speck of glitter caught in your eyelash - that never went away, no matter what.
He had the kind of real deep tan that rich people spent ages trying to achieve with expensive holidays and bits of tinfoil, when really all you need to do to obtain one is work your arse off in the open air everyday.
What the hell was going on, why did I care, and why, oh why, did I not carry a pocket rocket in my purse? My girlie bits were still on fire, screaming for release after Mr. Sex God’s orgasmic touch.
I do know you're nothing like him. But you're still....still a lot. A lot to handle. I don't mean your junk, obviously, as we've not gotten to the fondling-bits stage yet. And I can't believe I just talked about your junk.
Sip tea and coffee with those who say you can, politely stuff with cookies any who say you cannot. Because the stuff they are feeding you, be it the latter, looks strangely a bit like the little chocolate chips.
Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?" I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "That sounds really dirty." Patch waggled his brows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter.
I must break out... ...start a new life... been here for years... might be getting into a rut... something a bit more exciting... more adventurous... something with more of a challenge... There's not much opportunity for self-advancement in toilets.....
But luck withered by conservative, tired, riskless living can be plumped up again--after all, it was only a bit thirsty for something to do.
Danny: I’m a bit jealous, Sheila. Sheila: Are you, my dear? What on earth for? Danny: Well, because you’ve really lived, Sheila. Sheila: Of course I have, Daniel. What else is life for?
Once very near the end I said, 'If you can -- if it is allowed -- come to me when I too am on my death bed.' 'Allowed!' she said. 'Heaven would have a job to hold me; and as for Hell, I'd break it into bits.
Everyday should be a working day on those difficult tasks. A little bit per day is the only way to make it through. Never feel it can't be done; it can be done with persistent actions, repeated input and consistent attendance!
If you are a “now-person”, you reduce the time rate during which your success story is to be published; if you delay a bit, you are either prolonging the date of publishing or you are deleting it at all cost! Be a “now-person” and do it now!
We're all bits that the war didn't take, Flinty thought, gazing at the stranger's back. But those left behind had a right to know more about the beast who'd chewed their lives and spat the remnants out.
Then Royce's parry came a beat too late. The pale sword bit through the ringmail beneath his arm. The young Lord cried out in pain. Blood welled between the rings. It seemed red as fire where they touched the snow.
She had a highly developed sense of humor which in some lights looked a bit like a sense of justice.
When I’m in the ocean, I swim alone, because I’m a shark-eating man. I’m also a man-eating man, though to be fair I thought that one surfer was a seal when I bit into him.
The wind stilled a bit and he blinked the sand out of his eyes. Before him stood nothing less than the god of the Scrape. It had to be a god. He was huge, muscled, hung like an elephant, and sandy gold, just like his domain.
A brick could be used to sell new shoes to a man with no hands. I would say a brick could be used to sell a handless man new gloves, but that’s a bit of a stretch, even for a rubber band.
Why won’t you look at me?” she murmurs. He doesn’t speak, seemingly at a loss for words. “It’s my scars.” It comes out as barely a whisper. Horror spasms across his face. “What? No,” he says, a bit breathless. “You’re beautiful. A...
A blanket could be used to alert your guest when he’s overstayed his welcome. But what’s even more effective would be a flying brick at his forehead. Subtlety can be a bit soft, and can make it hard to differentiate between leave my house immedia...
