Hey,” Shayne said through the door. “You going to stay in there all night, because we’re getting tired of trying to eavesdrop from out here. Can’t hear a damn thing.
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.
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.
If you ever need to confirm that a girl is worth coming back from Hell for, show her your monster arm and see what she says.
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?
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.
John Brooke is acting dreadfully, and Meg likes it!
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.
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.
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.
Honest to God, she was the noisiest woman he'd ever been shot at with.
What sort of look are you going for?” Damn, how did he answer this? “Something…normal,” he finally said.
Just leave me alone, I want to be alone,” she said when Jack tried to open the car door. She hit the lock, and wound the window up. Since the roof was down, it was a fairly pointless exercise.
Some people just don’t find their Prince Charming straight away, they have to search for him.
