Her clothes were half off—a sale, not a strip tease. Watching her shop was as hot as a fresh cup of coffee, and that’s why I had a wad of dollar bills.
And, to be honest, if weed is a gateway drug, then I really did hop the fence, but sometimes I can’t help but miss the sticky-sweet warmth of a good old fashioned hot box.
Yeah, I get it. I'll be cool as a well digger's ass." He jumped when the front door slammed shut, the harsh bang echoing around the trees. Mitch shook his head. "That well digger must be working in a hot spring.
Any requests on the kind of car?” “Something with armor?” she said. “Oooh, and headrest DVD. Bonus for surround sound.” “Rocket launchers,” Michael said. “One hot yellow Hummer with optional mass destruction package, coming up.
Many people in a rather reckless context claim to 'just tell it like it is'. In actuality, nobody really stresses what one says so much as the motive behind what one says; hence, he is merely blowing hot air and detracting from 'what is'.
Where,oh,where are the eternity-conscious believers? Where are the souls white-hot for God because they fear His holy name and presence and so live with eternity's values in view?
Often I've wondered what it would feel like to be him," he whispered softly. "To feel the warmth of your skin under my cold hand or your hot breath on my lips. These last few days have been torment on my curiosity.
Why did women always believe that talking about a problem would fix it? Some issues were corpses. Hot air made them fester and rot and spread their disease to everything else. Better to bury it and move on.
Ali was a lucky, lucky girl having those two big hot men at her disposal. Not that Roslyn wasn't content with her one surly man, but still... . Some people were enjoying their apocalypse a little too much.
This is the thing about school dances. They make like it's supposed to be this other-worldly thing, but really it's just the people you see every day dressed up, standing in the gym in the dark with Red Hot Chili Peppers playing.
If he didn't have Ronnie already in his arms he'd have assumed she'd just opened the door...and aged a few years. Wow, he thought in surprise, she's going to be hot when we hit fifty.
Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among the leaves. The shade climbed up the hills toward the top. On the sand banks the rabbits sat as quietly as little gray, sculptured stones.
Nature's what it's all about, but our people have been brainwashed into thinking that life is a cell phone against your head and the TV on a beer commercial with hot chicks.
I love coffee, and coffee loves me. You know what else loves me? Hookers in hot paper cups.
Our love was so hot it could melt the polar ice caps. In fact, my passion’s probably to blame for global warming.
The sunken grave would fade away, probably in my lifetime. If I could avoid killer zombies for a few years. And vampires. And gun-toting humans. Oh, hell, the hot-spot would probably outlast me.
On a world where a common table implement is a little device with which you crack the ice that has formed on your drinnk between drafts, hot beer is a thing you come to appreciate.
See, guys freak out. They hit critical mass and blast nuclear, white-hot anger out over the world like walking flamethrowers. But girls freak in. They absorb the pain and bitterness and keep right on sponging it up until they drown.
She didn't even want to think of how hellish it would be if all the MacGregors made her feel like this one did, all hot and shaky. She'd have to move to the Arctic Circle before the month was out just to cool off.
Everyone got behind Fox, the name the guys had dubbed the red truck. "Fox?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah," Isaac said with a grin. "Our truck is hot, like Megan Fox.
His proximity, that damn smile, just makes me hot in all the right places, but also pissed as hell. I don’t know if I should knee him in the balls or hump his leg like a bitch in heat.
