When we finished the kiss she said laughing, I can taste your loneliness - it tastes like vinegar. That annoyed me. Everyone knows loneliness tastes like cold potato soup.
In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you’ll never see again.
These things excite me ,’ she whispered. ‘If you want to kiss me any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Just mention my name. Or present a green card.
My woman has a wandering eye; Yarrow, thyme and thorn. She eyes the ocean and the sky While stitching sails, forlorn. I got a kiss, and then a tear As she bade me go; But on the waves, my heart's in fear: My woman's in the know.
There's also a lot of random stuff about poetry, flowers and lute music, plus kissing and cuddling (lots of this), wearing similar outfits, talking incessantly about the current object of devotion, and generally losing one's faculties.
As for the making out with strangers, that was a one-time thing. Jeff keeps texting, and I feel bad, but I've been ignoring him -- the kissing was just so awful." "Yeah, he'd probably not be a good choice for number seven either.
God, this kiss. It was the kind she'd remember forever, that would invade her dreams and haunt her in quiet moments. The kind her older self could look back on and know, once, she'd really lived. The kind that, no matter what, she could never, ever r...
It’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever.
Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
He was raw and sharp and rich and throbbing with life. He was sweet blood after a long hunt. How could she have mistaken Aiden's kisses for this? They had been delicious and smooth like the brief comfort of chocolate, but they had never been enough.
What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you." "Why? Was kissing me that bad?" A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good.
You know what they say about mistakes though,' she said, all breathy and half-lipsy. 'It's the only way you ever learn anything.' And she leant forward and kissed him. Right there, in the middle of the bar. Right there, in the middle of his lips.
She picked up a taco, took a big bite, and moaned as it made its way down to her stomach. "I want to marry this taco." "Lucky taco." Honor stilled. That voice. That one-of-a-kind masculine scent. Bryce stood right behind her.
I want you to trust me," Gabe whispered against her lips. Lauren closed her eyes and fought the urge to kiss him. "I still don't." Gabe laughed. "Yeah, you do. You might not want to, but you do.
I can't leave you," he says hoarsely. "I can't leave you either," I say, shaking my head. "I can't." "Then don't," he says, and grabs me behind the neck and kisses me again, and the world is tilting, and everything goes black.
I'm leaving the door partly open," he says as he follows Tegan. "You scream if you need me." Once he is outside, Richard says, "He does realize that if he hears your scream, it's already too late.
Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.
He snuffles. Oh, no. He's not going to cry, is he? Because even though it's sweet when guys cry, I am so not prepared for this. Girl scouts didn't teach me what to do with emotionally unstable drunk boys.
Yes, St. Claire. I like you. But I can't say it aloud, because he's my friend. And friends don't let other friends make drunken declarations and expect them to act upon them the next day
La Maga did not know that my kisses were like eyes which began to open up beyond her, and that I went along outside as if I saw a different concept of the world, the dizzy pilot of a black prow which cut the water of time and negated it.
Brody's not gay. But then he kisses a boy. So he might be gay? No, Brody's not gay. But he loves this boy. So after much delaying, debating, and waiting, the answer comes clear...nothing is ever perfectly straight. It's slash.
