Can I tell you a dirty secret?” “Yes,” she gasped. “Just hurry.” Derek’s dark laughter increased her arousal, coating her in slick heat. Achingly slow, he sunk two thick fingers inside her. “If I could go back and do one thing different...
What a strange thing it is to wake up to a milk-white overcast June morning! The sun is hidden by a thick cotton blanket of clouds, and the air is vapor-filled and hazy with a concentration of blooming scent. The world is somnolent and cool, in a tem...
My tongue ran over my lower lip and I could taste the sin. It was thick and heavy in the air, and it made my head swim as I gazed into Abel's ocean-colored eyes. I wondered whether he tasted it too, whether his heart was pounding in his chest. I wond...
I knew right then you were the only one for me." He pulled her hand from his face, kissed her palm, then pressed it flat against his chest. "Beatings, battles, fights. No matter how bleak the circumstance, no matter how my soul despaired ... this hea...
I read the title from the cover. ' 'The joy of... crap.' ' I read the rest of the full title of the thick, nondescript volume to myself and felt myself redden. Noah turned over on to his side and said with mock seriousness, 'I have never read 'The Jo...
He was tall—6’ 3” or so—with haunting green eyes that seemed to smolder despite his lazy smile. His eyes were a great contrast to his thick, shiny, dark hair. And not that I’d ever seen it personally but judging from the way his t-shirt clu...
Outside, I could smell the Zebra. Even if for some reason I stopped feeling cold or hot or rain or sun, I bet I could close my eyes and still tell which season I was in just by the smell of the trees and dirt there. Spring was sweet mud and flowers. ...
I have been asked what I mean by “word of honor.” I will tell you. Place me behind prison walls—walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into the ground—there is a possibility that in some way or another I might be abl...
Ghosts! […] I almost think we are all of us ghosts. It is not only what we have inherited from our father and mother that ‘walks’ in us. It is all sorts of dead ideas, and lifeless old beliefs, and so forth. They have no vitality, but they clin...
The young man, perched insecurely in the slender branches, rocked till he felt slightly drunk, reached down the boughs, where the scarlet beady cherries hung thick underneath, and tore off handful after handful of the sleek, cool-fleshed fruit. Che...
I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me. Wooly jumpers, Wellington boot, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, ...
Are you still running that bar?” Maureen’s voice dropped to a shocked whisper on the last word and Hope rolled her eyes, working the pick through Maureen’s thick hair. “The Cue Club? Yes, ma’am, I am.” Angel leaned forward with her best d...
As I’ve been telling your, son, you get nowhere looking at clothes and the color of the skin to judge a man. It won’t tell you nothing about what’s inside. That’s where a fellow’s mettle is, and that’s what counts.
Skin color doesn't make you different,' Melody said. 'We're all the same on the inside.' 'The only people who ever say that,' Raymon replied, 'are white.
Skin color doesn't make you different," Melody said. "We're all the same on the inside." The only people who ever say that," Raymond replied, "are white.
They may not change your skins colour; they may not change your body odour; but once they can change your daily thoughts, they can influence your habits! Beware of evil companions!
Now I'm a warrior Now i've got thicker skin I'm a warrior I'm stronger than i've ever been And my amor Is made of steel you can't get in i'm a warrior And you can never hurt me again
Tell her that you love her hair, that you love her skin, her lips, because, in truth, you love them more than you love your own.
The rich scent of my favorite caffeinated beverage sends trickles of pleasure across my skin as I step inside. Is there anything better than coffee? Chocolate maybe and sex ranks very close I suppose.
No, not like this, when I have not seen you without your skin on, when I know nothing, when I am not safe. Not you, whose name all my nightmares know.
Bolivian women sewed their lips shut for days. They threaded needles through their skin to stop their speech, to show what good speaking had done them.
