Best 23 quotes of Sarina Bowen on MyQuotes

Concern washes over Jess’s brown eyes. Followed by the heat of accusation as she spins toward Blake again. “You didn’t tell me he had a headache!” “I didn’t know!” “What kind of nurse are you?” “The kind who plays hockey!

don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pot while I was our, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

El amor es una amistad prendida fuego. Ahora lo entiendo.

Give me the D. You know you want to.

He doesn’t need skill - he just needs to be here. Him. Here. With me.

He wants to put ranch dressing on your Hidden Valley

I am not a snob, because I know opulence doesn't stamp out ignorance and unhappiness.

I don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pie while I was our, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

I don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pot while I was out, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

If you want to keep breathing, don’t ever call the love of my life a bitch.

I try to analyze the peculiar warmth and throbbing in my vagina. Is it attraction or a urinary tract infection?

Love is friendship set on fire. I get it now.

Maybe it wasn’t rational, but she didn’t like the idea of Leo invading her little world. Yesterday, Brooklyn had belonged to her. The Long Island ’burbs where she’d grown up had felt far away from the brick streets and renovated factory spaces of Brooklyn. In this job, she’d felt truly independent, putting down her own fragile roots in a new place. Fast forward twenty-four hours, and her daddy had joined the workplace and her ex-boyfriend had shown up to remind her of all that she’d lost. Really, a girl could be forgiven for feeling slightly hysterical. Not that there was any time to panic.

One chance. One night.” “One night,” she says slowly. “For…” She doesn’t even finish the sentence. Sixteen-year-old Skye never said the word sex, and couldn’t refer to it without blushing. It appears that twenty eight-year-old Skye is the same. “Fireworks,” I whisper, trying not to scare her. “With me.

Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It's him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

Summer’s a total cocktease.” He shrugs, repeating himself. “It always ends.” He’s right about that. Summer always ends.

The heat in her eyes? I put it there. She's like a gift that was never mine to unwrap. But now she's looking up at me like I hung the moon and stars.

Two seconds later, he’s there. And I’m stretching out on him like a blanket, and jamming my tongue into his mouth. Jamie moans, but I’m too wrapped up in the taste of him to worry about it. I have my fingers in his hair, and his hot, hard body under mine and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. - Wes

Wes growls when I come in his mouth, but he doesn’t stop sucking until I’m limp and mindless. As the aftershocks of the orgasm continue to flutter through my sated body, I vaguely register that he’s beside me now. Kissing my neck. Stroking my abs. Nuzzling my beard with his cheek. “Fucking love this beard,” he whispers. “Fucking love you,” I whisper back.

.. when she looked at Nate she saw a kid who’d been shoved into lockers during high school. And now he wanted the last laugh, taking every opportunity to throw his (nerdy) weight around. He’d bought a hockey team, and he was going to make the jocks do his bidding, at least until the day he realized that vindication wasn’t everything in life.

You can bite the pillow when I make you scream.

You’re saying you don’t want me?” Aw hell. “No, I’m saying this is a bad idea.” “You’re the king of bad ideas,” he reminds me. “At least this one ends with both of us feeling good.

You want me to humiliate myself without coffee?" I grumble. "That's cold.