Best 51 quotes in «tease quotes» category

What are you smiling at?" "You." He surveyed her with a look of masculine interest that was rapidly becoming familiar. The lazy smile remained on his lips. "I'll wager that everyone who knows you considers you to be soft, sweet, and accommodating. But you're not." "What am I, then?" Hunter's hand slid behind her neck, and he urged her forward until their lips were almost touching. Lara felt the warm touch of his breath, and her stomach turned over in excitement. "You're a lioness," he said, and released her without kissing her... leaving her to grapple with an absurd sense of disappointment.

We both knew what was for dinner as snake like, your tongue slithered up my leg to the inside of my thigh, flicking, tasting, teasing its prey...

You can cease to be influenced by people who tease you... Just neglect their helps and elevate your steps... You can do it!

What I can't figure out is if you know you're a tease and are fuckin' with me or whether you really are innocent." "I'm not a tease." I cock an eyebrow, then look down at my upper thigh where she's parked her hand. She snatches it away. "Okay, I didn't mean to put my hand there. Well, I mean, not really. It just kinda . . . wh . . . what I mean to say is--" "I like it when you stutter," I say as I pull her down next to me and show her my own version of a Swedish massage until we're interrupted by Sierra and Doug.

Why Lila glaring at you, hombre? ” asked Rico. “Though I wouldn’t mind a hot piece of culo like that acknowledging my existence.” Rico puckered his lips, sending a mock kiss in Lila’s direction. I laughed when she flipped her golden hair over her shoulder and stared at the dry-erase board.

Xav sprinkled olive oil on his lettuce. 'Lola was very particular that it all had to fit properly.' 'Lola?' squeaked Diamond. I wanted to warn her not to rise to the bait Xav was dangling in front of her but it was too late. Xav added some Parmesan and pepper. 'Suspicious, Diamond? You should be. This is a bachelor party I'm organizing, not a school outing, and it is going to tick all of Trace's boxes. Lola is either a very efficient water sports instructor or an exotic dancing girl; I'll leave it your imagination.' I rolled my eyes at Diamond. 'Myabe she's both. I mean the guys will really go for that, I guess. Don't worry,Di, Luigi and his crew will not disappoint us girls.' Luigi was in fact Contessa Nicoletta's little bespectacled chef with whom I had been consulting about the menu for Friday, but the Benedicts weren't to know that. 'He has promised to provide something suitably spicy for our tastes.

When I spot Alex leaning on his motorcycle waiting for me in the parking lot, my pulse skips a beat. Oh, boy. I'm in trouble. Gone is his ever-present bandanna. Alex's thick black hair rests on his forehead, daring to be swept back. Black pants and a black silk shirt have replaced his jeans and T-shirt. He looks like a young Mexican daredevil. I can't help but smile as I park next to him. "Querida, you look like you've got a secret." I do, I think as I step out of my car. You. "Dios mio. You look ... preciosa." I turn in a circle. "Is this dress okay?" "Come here," he says, pulling me against him. "I don't want to go to the wedding anymore. I'd rather have you all to myself." "No way," I say, running a slow finger along the side of his jaw. "You're a tease.

Why am I impatient I am unsure for what is patience? And why should I ultimately feel that I am lacking in it. Is it timing? Waiting? Abstaining? Obligation? Longing? Torture? Perseverance? Discipline? Wanting? Someone recently referred to it as a staring contest between yourself, fate, god and chance. He also referred to it as a tease, a flirt. It's staring at her image when you want to hear her voice, feel her breath, taste her skin. Patience is the recovery from a really hot dream interrupted by the damn alarm clock. Patience is a hard cock with bound hands.

Word of advice,” the Colonel said from the other side. “Don’t tease the zombies.

You don't like birthdays, Aelan?" The silver eyes ran over her gently. "Because I can help you love birthdays...trust me." ~Nolan

You’re scared,” he said quietly. “Scared?” I scoffed. “Of what?” “Of anything real. And what we have is real. You love me and it terrifies you.” “I don’t love you,” I lied. He grabbed my face then, dragging me closer with both hands. “You love me. I know you do. I know it because I can see it in your eyes . . . in the way you look at me.” He inhaled. “It’s the same way I look at you.

You're weird,' he says. Despite everythin, I smile. 'You're always saying that, but in fact, you're weird,' I say. 'Yeah, I know. Remember? That's how I can tell you're weird, too.

A lot of celebrities, especially when you're talking about the really big ones, live in what I call the fame bubble. Nobody ever says no to them or challenges them or even teases them.

Changmin teases me so much...it's to the point that it feels strange when he doesn't.

A man might engage in flirtation with distinterest, even disdain. But he never teases without affection.

As an actress people always tease me like: if there's anything you can do to make yourself unattractive you will do it.

He was used to being playful with women, teasing while keeping ultimate control. With Luna, he felt like a berserk marauder. He couldn't even spell control, much less utilize it.

I'm a good girl because I really believe in love, integrity, and respect.

I guess you can tease me about being a drama queen, because that did heighten the drama.

I'm childish and silly. Most people tease me because I'm a bit daft.

I'm such a tease And you're such a flirt... Routines and schedules Drug and kill you Kill you.

It's inevitable that you will die, so the only question is when. The great thrillers are the moments that play and tease with the question, "When will it be?

The trumpet does not more stun you by its loudness, than a whisper teases you by its provoking inaudibility.

So time doesn't count, and place does?' I said this to tease her. When I was a man, I liked teasing her and she went along with it, consenting, for it reminded us both of a sadness that had passed.

When I was younger, they used to tease me. And now they’re quite protective.

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.”

And what if you try to kill me? Or worse: to kiss me?

And here’s why it worked: man or woman, gay, straight, bisexual, you name it, we all just want to be teased.

And before I knew it, the tip of his finger was against the side of my mouth, the mousse cooling my skin. I turned my head to get a full taste, but he moved his finger away so I only got a tiny wisp of the mousse, not enough to know it. "Hey, come on," I said. "Let me taste it." He took another step forward, and I took the tiniest of steps back, pressing us both against the wall, Helen's write-up just over my left shoulder. "Oh? You think this is what's missing?" I chased his finger with my lips. He had only grabbed one of my hands, so I could have brought his hand to my mouth, but I stayed there, transfixed, like a bug pinned down for inspection. Finally, the flat of my tongue and the tip of his finger met. He gently pushed it inside my mouth, and I tasted the yogurt at last. It was surprising in every way- airy yet hearty, sunny yet earthy. The final piece. He kept his finger in my mouth even after I finished tasting it, my tongue against the ridges on the underside of his finger, coarse from cooking, I suppose, but more likely from being a man. Pascal was a man. He pulled his finger out and my lips made a suctioned pop sound. Maybe Pascal was the oxygen. Maybe he was what I should have been breathing.

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.”

Can you sharpen this for me, please?” Logan leaned across the table and took the pencil from him. “You want me to play with your pencil, Tate?” “Hilarious. The sharpener is right by you. You just have to pick it up and slide it in.” As soon as the words left his mouth and Logan’s quirked into an arrogant line, Tate bit his tongue. “Really? Did you really just say that to me?” Feeling more comfortable than ever with Logan and this group, Tate shrugged and nodded. Time to give it to Logan as good as he gives. “Yeah. Is there a problem? You just line it up...and slide it in.” “You know, Tate—” “Don't do it.” Tate cut him off as he moved his foot, the one he’d had sitting between Logan’s feet all night, so his shin bumped Logan’s calf. “Do what?” “Say something dirty. I know you're dying to, but just sharpen the pencil.” Logan picked up the sharpener and made a big show of inserting the tip in the hole. “Jesus,” Shelly muttered from beside Logan. “I thought Rachel and Cole were bad.

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.

Hello?” “Hey.” She sounded pissed. “What the hell happened to you tonight? Jess said the three of us were meeting for Valentine’s Day, but you never showed.” “Sorry,” I said. “Something came up.” “Bianca, you’ve been saying that a lot lately. Something is always coming up or you have plans or…” Suddenly, I felt Wesley’s breath hit the back of my neck. He’d gotten up from the floor and slid up behind me without me realizing it. His arms slid around my waist from behind, his fingers undoing the button of my jeans before I could stop him. “… and Jess had her hopes up that we’d do something fun…” I couldn’t focus on a word Casey was saying as Wesley’s hand slid beneath the waistband of my pants, his fingers moving lower and lower. I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t tell him to stop or show any reaction at all. If I did, Casey would know I wasn’t alone. But, God, I could feel my whole body turning into a ball of fire. Wesley was laughing against my neck, knowing he was driving me crazy. “… I just don’t understand what’s up with you.” I bit my lip to keep from gasping as Wesley’s fingers slipped to places that made my knees shake. I could feel the smirk on his lips as they moved to my ear. Asshole. He was trying to torture me. I couldn’t handle it much longer. “Bianca, are you there?” Wesley bit my earlobe and pushed my jeans even lower with his free hand as the other continued to make me shiver.

He who makes fun of a short and fat man’s weight is much less cruel than he who makes fun of his height.

Don't be discouraged by people who tease you out of your dreams. What you have in your heart is bigger than what they have on their lips!

Don't follow your dreams, lead them

I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around to face me. As I bent, I closed my eyes … and kissed air as she ducked out of my grasp. I opened my eyes to see her dancing backward along the path. I made a noise in my throat. “Don’t growl,” she said. “Aren’t you always complaining that you don’t get enough exercise?” I lunged. She backed away. I let out another growl and crossed my arms. “Better watch out. I might decide the prize isn’t worth the effort.” She grinned, blue eyes dancing. “Oh, you know it is. And you know it’s never as sweet as when you have to work for it.” She wheeled and ran. As I went after her, adrenaline pumped through me, like liquid fire. There was nothing quite like a chase, and one that ended with this reward was the best chase of all.

I couldn't help staring at him, slurping up every atom and utterance and whistle in his voice. He'd become more relaxed in the kitchen, relaxed yet assertive. He bit his thumb in thought and the contrast between his big, strong hands and this adorable, boyish habit made me woozy. "Well... what are we doing with this dish?" "Let me think," I said, letting my exhalations calm me down yet again. "I think the dish needs something more to ground it. Something earthy." "That's the lovage," he said, now looking in the fridge, his jean-clad butt poking out. "No, the lovage is the wild card," I said, as steadily as I could, even though I was intensely distracted and slightly astonished that a man's butt excited me so much. "That flavor remains suspended in your mouth," I continued. "You need something that goes deeper." As I said it, he slowly approached me. I lifted my hand to make way for him but he caught it in midair. "I need something?" he asked, tightening his grip with a little smile and a little threat. He walked one inch closer and that inch set my heart fluttering again, the air between us compressed and tickling. "Yes. Um, I mean..." Still holding my hand, he grabbed a bowl of toasted almonds. "Like this?" He dropped one in my mouth with his free hand, his fingers barely touching my lips. I didn't feel like eating it. I felt like either running back to my apartment and hiding under the covers, or maybe just pretending I was someone else and kissing him right then and there. But I ate the almond and resigned myself to imagining his lips on mine. His hand was still around my wrist... his finger on my lips... "Or, maybe this." He gripped me tighter and, with his other hand, picked up a frond of dehydrated kale, as big and light as a feather. He touched the end of my lips, but when I opened my mouth, he pulled it away. "Careful," he said. "It crumbles." He placed it on my lips once more and I took a bite, little flakes of kale falling like green fairy dust.

I’d love to try to tame you... And I would simply adore it if you turn out untamable –

Me? I'm being ridiculous? You're the one flirting for your thesis. What the hell kind of degree is that anyway? A doctorate of dick tease?

“How many girls do you kiss against cars?” asked Echo in a clipped manner. My mouth gaped, but no sound came out. Rico and his two cousins cackled at my expression. I snapped it shut when Echo winked. Damn, I loved it when she dished it back.

I'll never miss a chance to remind you of what a brat you were. A gloriously beautiful and very spoiled brat. I was utterly charmed by your complete self-absorption. It was rather like courting a cat.

Is this Clarissa Fray?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded familiar, though not immediately identifiable. Clary twirled the phone cord nervously around her finger. "Yeees?" "Hi, I'm one of the knife-carrying hooligans you met last night in Pandemonium? I"m afraid I made a bad impression and was hoping you'd give me a chance to make it up to-" "SIMON!" Clary held the phone away from her ear as he cracked up laughing. "That is so not funny!" "Sure it is. You just don't see the humor." "Jerk." Clary sighed, leaning up against the wall.

If I facepalm myself too much, maybe the pimples will go away.

I often wonder, in a catfight, when one doesn't want to fight, if the other cat calls it a pussy.

Was one of those college boys with you your boyfriend?” A slight bit of heat creeps onto my cheeks. Not from panic this time, but from...from... “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” And the answer makes me shy, and the shyness gives me the power to look away. To think he called me brave. I wish I was brave. I wish that every person I’d meet would think of me that way. Not as the coward I really am. “Good. Those guys were losers. Stay clear of them.” “You’re sort of bossy.” I’m teasing. Isaiah’s way too serious to find time to be bossy. But the main point is that he’s totally unlike my brothers, who demand everything from me by plain bullying. “I’m not bossy,” he says and I get a little thrill that he’s playing along. This isn’t me. In my day-to-day life, I could never find the courage to talk to guys, much less tease them, yet here I am. “No, I have four older brothers. Technically three older brothers and a twin, but Ethan claims he’s older by a minute. The point is I know what bossy is—and you’re it.” “Think of it as strongly encouraged tips for survival.

People use to say that time can change everything but as far as I know the nothing can change the tease inside your heart .

Nick saunters into the gym and my heart basically stops. He’s ridiculously cute in his PE shorts and dark green T-shirt; and people that good-looking seem vulnerable, almost like they can’t be real. He’s real, though. He’s all dark skin and dark hair and dark eyes. Okay. His eyebrows, like Devyn’s nose, are a little big and if you stare at him long enough you realize that his lips are a bit lopsided. I have kissed his lips. I have felt his breath in my ear and I know without a doubt that he’s real, even if he is a werewolf. The massive muscles in his legs redefine themselves as he walks toward me. He waves a late pass at the coach and yells, “Sorry I’m late. I’ve got a pass.” “Not a problem, buddy,” Coach yells back. He and Nick are all jock bonding. Nick pockets the note, which is probably a fake. I can smell his deodorant even though he’s still far away. There are these things called pheromones, odors that guys give off to attract women. I swear his pheromones have my freaking name written on them. They hone in and attack. “You are getting all swoony faced,” Issie tells me with her singsong voice. She pokes me in the ribs with her elbow, gently. She turns to Devyn, who is smiling like a crazy man, just hanging back in his wheelchair watching the scene. “Dev. Look at Zara. She’s got her lovey-dovey look on.” As Is gazes at Devyn with her own lovey-dovey look, he says, “Yeah. Teen love. So obvious. So hormonal.” “I am not hormonal.” I fake glare at him.

People with victim mentality attracts people in their lives that tease them, abuse them and even bully them instead of building mutually benefitting relationships

People having a victim complex invite someone to tease them into their lives though they could have mutually beneficial relationships