Best 230 quotes of Katie Mcgarry on MyQuotes

Abby grips the passenger door. “I’m going to be sick.” “Throw up in my car, and that will be the last thing you ever do.

A bead of liquid appears at her hairline and slides down her face. When it hits her cheek, I can’t tell if the drop is from the beer or from her eyes. My hand moves, the need to touch her more powerful than thought. Before I know what I’m doing, I wipe away the wetness.

A chair down the row from mine shifted and my mouth watered from the aroma of hot cinnamon rolls. I snuck a peek and noticed red, silky, curly hair. I knew her. Echo Emerson. Not a cinnamon roll in sight, but damn if she didn’t smell like one. We had several of our main courses together and last semester one of our free periods. I didn’t know much about her other than she kept to herself, she was smart, a redhead and she had big tits. She wore large, long-sleeved shirts that hung off her shoulders and tank tops underneath that revealed just enough to get the fantasies flowing. Like always, she stared straight ahead as if I didn’t exist. Hell, I probably didn’t exist in her mind. People like Echo Emerson irritated the crap out of me. “You’ve got a f*cked-up name,” I mumbled. I didn’t know why I wanted to rattle her, I just did. “Shouldn’t you be getting high in the bathroom?” So she did know me. “They installed security cameras. We do it in the parking lot now.” “My bad.” Her foot rocked frantically back and forth. Good, I’d succeeded in getting under that perfect facade. “Echo … echo … echo …” Her foot stopped rocking and red curls bounced furiously as she turned to face me. “How original. I’ve never heard that before.” She swept up her backpack and left the office. Her tight ass swayed side to side as she marched down the hallway.

A heat wave crashes into my body and I tug at the collar of my winter coat. I could take this thing off and probably still sweat. The memories of his mouth moving against mine and how his hands pressed into my body flood my brain. I lick my lips in anticipation. I crave for him to kiss me again, but... “Are you going to call me after?” A small grin plays on his lips. “You aren’t going to cut me any slack, are you?” It’s like he’s begging me to tease him, and without thought, I slide back to the braver girl at the bar. “Is that a problem?” He shakes his head. “Not from you.”

Aires and Echo Emerson. Their mother must have hated them to give them names like that.

Alexander shifted in my arms. God, he was so small, and from the giddy looks on my father's and Ashley's faces, they already worshiped him. We all started off this way, small little bundles of joy. Me, Aires, Noah, Lila, Isaiah, and even Beth. At some point, someone held and loved us, but somewhere along the way, it all got screwed up.

And he laughs. Not the heavy laughter from before. It’s a great laugh. A deep laugh. One that makes my lips lift. Isaiah, the guy who an hour ago carried himself like a jungle predator, now has the content aura of a lazy cat bathing in the sun.

Baseball isn't just a game. It's the smell of popcorn drifting in the air, the sight of bugs buzzing near the stadium lights,the roughness of the dirt beneath your cleats. It's the anticipation building in your chest as the anthem plays, the adrenaline rush when your bat cracks against the ball, and the surge of blood when the umpire shouts strike after you pitch. It's a team full of guys backing your every move, a bleacher full of people cheering you on. It's...life

Because I want us to be friends again. I made some really bad choices, and I'm sorry. You're leaving for Florida and if we don't fix this now, it won't be fixed.

Because they’re wet, Noah’s jeans are a bit stubborn sliding down, but he’s successful, and in the mirror I’m drawn to his naked body. I love the raw power of his shoulder blades and the curve of his back that trails lower to his...my mouth dries out...oh, crap...his butt is...how do I describe something so exquisite? Everything about Noah is sexy, and as he bends to pull the jeans off his foot— “If you get in the shower with me, Echo, you’d get a better look and you’d warm up.”

Being born into the world is the greatest crapshoot there is.

Besides me, Pigpen is the youngest guy in here and then there's Eli.

Beth’s voice broke. “I can’t lose you guys.” And there it was. She sat here bleeding because she loved me and Isaiah. For the millionth time, I wished the system was a person. One person I could name, know and hold responsible for screwing every single one of us. Right now, Beth’s mom’s new boyfriend would have to do.

Breathing became a painful chore. Her lips turned down while her warm fingers caressed my cheek. That touch typically brought me to my knees, but now it cut me open. “Did you know that when you stop being stubborn and accept I may be right on something, your eyes widen a little and you tilt your head to the side?” she asked. I forced my head straight and narrowed my eyes. “I love you.” She flashed her glorious smile and then it became the saddest smile in the world. “You love your brothers more. I’m okay with that. In fact, it’s one of the things I love about you. You were right the other day. I do want to be part of a family. But I’d never forgive myself if I was the reason you didn’t get yours.” To my horror, tears pricked my eyes and my throat swelled shut. “No, you’re not pulling this sacrificial bullshit on me. I love you and you love me and we’re supposed to be together.” Echo pressed her body to mine and her fingers clung to my hair. Water glistened in her eyes. “I love you enough to never make you choose.”

But there is one person who expected the unexpected from me and the only time I noticed disappointment on his face was when I cowered like a sheep. And I had to take a moment to figure out I'm not ashamed of him. It's him who should be ashamed of me. I've put Razor in an unfair position. He introduced me to his world. Welcomed me with open arms. Made me feel like I belonged and I've asked him to keep a secret when doing so is killing him. And I told him that we would be over...I did the exact thing to him that Clara did to me and that's not okay. No part of it is okay.

Calm down,” comes a voice, and it’s not Razor’s. I rip my focus away from the water and there’s a man [Pigpen] with blond hair and a cut like Razor’s slowly approaching the bridge. His hands are up—a sign of submission. “Just calm down.

Come here, baby." And with my words, Echo leaned into me soft, pliant, broken. "You're not alone," I whispered into her hair as I cradled her in my arms. "You're not alone, because you have me." And I love you, more than you could ever know

Come on, baby. It’s time.” “You’re mean, Noah.” The blanket falls off her arm as I slide a finger down her shoulder. Goose bumps form along her skin at my touch. She may be cranky, but she’s responding. “A deal’s a deal,” I remind her. “I changed my mind. I’d rather sleep.” With her eyes still shut, she hunts for the cover, but I kick it off. She presses her lips together. “I’m serious. You’re the meanest person I know.” I kiss her neck then blow on the skin, pleased with the smile she’s fighting. “Does that feel mean?” I ask. “Horribly.” She giggles. “It’s torture.

Craving a physical connection, I slide my finger along the back of Rachel’s hand. She’s asleep. Has been for a while. Curled in the fetal position in the middle of my bed, Rachel wears the mask of a ravaged person. Somehow, I missed the signs: dark circles under her eyes, the clothes that once fit perfectly now hang, her skin so pale it’s translucent.

Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel’s tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to take her. “I want to go further,” she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches. Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don’t miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I’ll spook her, I don’t push her too far, but I’m all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears. “You sure?” I ask. I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She’s so damn hot I’m about to forget slow and go for fast. But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don’t know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she’s here and I’m going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me.

Cyrus may have been voted in by the members as president, but everyone knows that Eli is the chief of this tribe. Not because that’s how he wants it, it’s because every man who wears a Terror cut respects the hell out of him. But because of Eli’s stint in prison, he can’t hold an official office.

Did you forget the dressing room at the mall?” Forget? I have wet dreams involving that day. “That’s not my fault. You asked how you looked in those jeans.” “Good would have sufficed. Attempting to take them off wasn’t necessary.” “They did look good. Good enough that I wanted to touch, and then I wanted to touch more.” Echo laughs, and the sound warms my heart. “They have security cameras. People go to jail over stuff like that.” I roll onto my side and drape my leg over hers. “I had you covered from sight. Very covered.” Backed her up against the wall and covered her body with every inch of mine. That siren smile that I love so much crosses her face. Her fingers reach up and trace the line of my jaw. "You are the most impossible person I know.” “Damn straight.

Echo placed the expertly folded blanket back on the couch and smoothed it several times, insisting on finding perfection in a world where none existed.

Echo already felt like a heavy drug. The kind I avoided on purpose—crack, heroin, meth. The ones that screwed with your mind, crept into your blood and left you powerless, helpless.

Echo continued to tap her finger to her chin and created more dots on her face while she stared at the canvas. The intensity of her stare shocked me. The art teacher stacked the bowls and walked toward the door. “She’s in the zone. Good luck getting her attention. Do me a favor. If she ends up painting her whole face, grab my camera from my desk and take a picture. I’ll add it to my collection.” She gazed at Echo and smiled. “I’ll title that one Smurf. Nice tats, by the way.”

Echo is my life. My life. I lover her. If there's a chance I can make her happy... If I can save what's between us... I'll do it, so fucking tell me!

Echo, kissing you for the rest of my life would be good enough, and you need to get these fucked-up thoughts out of your brain. I’m scared of making love to you because you’re too good for me. I’m terrified that after I share this with you, you’ll realize the mistake, and I can’t take that. Not from you.

Echo’s breathing hitches when I slide my thumb along a smaller scar. She likes that spot. I’ve memorized it. A centimeter below the crook of her elbow. Her skin is sensitive there, and when I kiss it, Echo normally falls apart and nearly shatters. I gently press my lips behind her ear, and Echo nudges closer to me. “Why, Echo?” “Because.” I nip at her earlobe, and she shivers. “Because why?” Her shoulder moves under my body. A half shrug maybe. “It makes me feel better.” Fuck that. “Why?” A kiss on her neck. A long one. A lingering one. God damn, Echo tastes so good. Her skin is soft and tempting. But I want answers. “Because sometimes I want to blend in.” I raise my head and stare straight into her eyes, spotting the plain honesty. What she doesn’t understand is that she could never blend in. Blazing red hair. Bright emerald eyes. The most beautiful girl in the world. She’d turn heads regardless of a sweater.

Echo’s eyes plead with me as she waits for an answer. Stay with me. Not here. Not with him. With me. That’s my answer.

Echo shifts, and her bottom presses into me. I take advantage and draw her closer. Her tank rides up, and I rest my palm against the heat of her stomach. I lived too long in cold isolation before Echo stumbled into my life, bringing her warmth and love.

Echo slides off the hood, and her hips have this easy sway as she walks to the back passenger door. Damn, she’s gorgeous—red, curly hair flowing over her shoulders, a pair of cut-offs hugging her ass and a blue spaghetti-strap tank dipped low enough to show cleavage. My fingers twitch with the need to touch. I’m going to have to pull some major groveling to gain forgiveness. If I were smart, I’d find a way to say sorry without opening my mouth. Never fails that half the time I try to apologize, it comes out wrong.

(Echo) “So you agree that throwing people into walls isn’t okay?” (Noah) “It is when someone f*cks with you.” I attempt to step back, but Noah halts the escape. “I mean it. No one treats you like shit. At least when I’m around. That’s nonnegotiable.” (Noah)

Eli abruptly stands. His chair rocks, then hits the floor. “It means Mom’s mental stability was more fragile than we thought in those last few months.” His hand hammers the screen door as he leaves and the door comes back and slams into the wood. I glance at the bylaws. Olivia was a lot of things toward the end and one of them was lucid. Eli’s hiding something, and when I peer over at Cyrus, the pensive stare in my direction confirms he’s hiding something, too.

Eli bought the flat-screen television and sectional couch for Olivia, his mother, after his stint in prison. There’s a throw rug on the wooden floor and picture frames are everywhere. Olivia insisted on having visual reminders of the people she loved.

Eli motions for me to sit on the couch. I do and Cyrus settles into his recliner as Eli pulls a wooden chair out of the kitchen and straddles it across from me. Eli rubs the stars tattooed on his forearm. The guy is hardcore, but ask him what his tattoos mean and most women will weep.

Emotions is evil. People who make me feel are worse. I take comfort in the stone inside of me. If I don't feel, I don't hurt.

Fire can destroy, but it can also create-provide warmth, protection.

Food shouldn't be half-bad. It should be all good.

For the second time since meeting her, Echo looked as if I’d slapped her. Water pooled at the bottom edges of her eyes, her cheeks flushed red and she blinked rapidly. She’d succeeded in making me feel like a d*ck … again.

From the driver’s side, one of Echo’s jean-clad legs dangled. “I’ve got a hard-on just looking at her, man,” said Isaiah as we strolled up the drive. “You’re ate up,” I replied, hoping he meant the car, not Echo. I’d hate to throw down with someone I considered family.

Guilt nagged at me. She didn't technically ask me a question, so in theory, I didn't owe her a response, but the need to please her swept over me like a tidal wave. But why? She was another therapist in the revolving door. They all asked the same questions and promised help, but each of them left me in the same condition they found me--broken.

Have you thought of doing it? Being a cattle farmer? If that's what it's called? I think we should do that, but replace cattle with bunnies and then we don't milk or eat the bunnies. We just let them multiply. Then we'll take over the world. Me the queen. You the king. Our bunnies the army nobody can defeat.

He flashed his wicked grin and lowered his voice. “Mrs. Frost always runs late. I could kiss you now and give the crowd what they’re looking for.” That would be an awesome way to start class. I licked my lips and whispered, “You are going to get me in so much trouble.” “Damn straight.” Noah caressed my cheek before heading to his seat in the back. I settled in my seat and spent the entire hour trying to keep my mind focused on calculus and not on kissing Noah Hutchins.

He ignores me. Our fears are what stifle us and we're only scared of what we don't understand.

He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck. “Do you think you’ll come back sometime?” he asks. “And let me help you with your car?” My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can’t believe this is happening to me. “I’ll make it work. I swear.” The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That’s not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won’t approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don’t care what any of them think.

Here's the thing- I love you and I love her, but I swear to God I'll kick your ass if you hurt her.

Her laughter sounded like music. “What, you don’t hang out with missionaries in your downtime? When the rest of us go home and slip into sweatpants and T-shirts, you kick back in a polo shirt and khakis.” No one but Isaiah and Beth teased me. People ran from me. Yet this little nymph thoroughly enjoyed this game. “Keep it up, Echo. I’m all about foreplay.” She laughed so loudly, she slapped a hand over her mouth, yet the giggles escaped. “You are so full of yourself. You think because girls swoon over you and let you into their pants on the first try that I’ll follow suit. Think again. Besides, I have your number now. Every time you try to look all dark and dangerous, I’ll picture you wearing a pink striped polo, collar up, and a pair of pleated chinos.”

Her long blue sleeve was hiked past her elbow and I followed her gaze to the exposed skin. She attempted to yank her hand away, but I tightened my grip and swallowed my disgust. In all the horror-show homes I’d lived in, I never once saw mutilation like that. White and pale red, raised scars zigzagged up her arm. “What the f*ck is that?” I tore my eyes away from the scars and searched her face for answers. She sucked in several shallow gasps before yanking a second time and successfully jerking out of my grasp. “Nothing.” “That ain’t nothing.” And that something had to hurt like hell when it happened. Echo stretched her sleeve past her wrist to her fingertips. She resembled a corpse. The blood rushed out of her cheeks and her body quaked with silent tremors. “Leave me alone.” She turned away and stumbled back to the library.

Her soft lips kiss my jaw and my body temperature spikes. Holding on to Rachel is like holding on to a flame. It’s a soothing burn and an addictive burn. Her kiss is pure fire.

He sauntered to the counter. “What can I do for you?” The red bandana he wore held back the hair that typically covered his eyes. I loved his eyes. Chocolate-brown, full of mischief and a spark ready to light the world on fire. “Can I have a glass of water, please?” And please let it be free. “Is that it?” My stomach growled, loud enough for Noah to hear. “Yep, that’s it.” He fixed me a glass and handed it to me. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a burger? A nice thick burger on a toasted bun with salty fries on the side?” I sucked on my straw, gulping the ice water down. Funny, water didn’t give me that warm, fuzzy, full feeling like a burger and fries would. “I’m fine, thank you.” “Suit yourself. You see that nice-looking piece of meat right there?” He motioned to the patty frying. The aroma made my mouth water.