Best 383 quotes in «flirting quotes» category

Ersken gathered the dice, put them in the cup they had used for play, and tucked it inside one bound Rat's shirt. "Let that be a lesson to you not to gamble," he told the Rat soberly. "The trickster asks you pay for any luck you may have, one way or another." "Bless the boy, he's a priest with it," one of the Goddess warriors said with a grin. "After this, laddie, what's say I take you home and rub some of that off yez?" Ersken actually winked at her! "Forgive me, gracious warrior, but my woman would turn me into something unnatural if I took you up on your kind offer," he replied as if he truly regretted it. "She's a mage and I'd best stay devoted.

Every time I see you, I have to admit that rest of us are more uglier than I thought.

First,” I said, “I’m sorry about the other day. I must have had the book open at the wrong place.” The violet eyes glanced up at me, and then became confused and looked away. “It’s all right,” she said. “Then you’re not mad at me?” She shook her head. “Not any more.” “That’s fine,” I said. “Now we can start even again. Next time I’ll read the instructions on the bottle.

Feeble human body, hey?” Mikael said it in the way that he had, that made everything sound slightly naughty and sexual. I aimed three quick jabs at his head, which wiped the innuendo off his face.

Flirting is a risky game... One mistake... And you are committed...

Flirtation was already outside Marian's expertise, but trying to seem receptive to his advances was all the harder when he made none.

Flirting is probably just as much about falling in love with yourself as it is with someone else. It's about seeing yourself through someone's eyes and realizing there is plenty to like about yourself, plenty of reasons someone might hang on your every word.

Flirting is the promise of sex with no guarantee. A successful brand, then, is the promise and guarantee of a mind shattering experience each and every time.

Flirting is the perfect appetiser for the meal of love.

Flirt with the old ladies and you’ll be fine,” I muttered, shoving my stuff into the cubby. He hung his green hoodie on the hooks right beside me. “Is that how you get by?” “Doesn’t work on the old ladies for me, but the old men on the other hand?” I paused and glanced at my nails. “Yeah, doesn’t work on them either.

For you the guy should be the one who will look like the God among the guys.

For a moment, I tried to see myself through the eyes of the girl with the black hair, or even the boy in the cowboy hat, studying my features for a vibration under the skin. The effort was visible in my face, and I felt ashamed. No wonder the boy had seemed disgusted: He must have seen the longing in me. Seen how my face was blatant with need, like an orphan's empty dish. And that was the difference between me and the black-haired girl- her face answered all it's own questions.

Fortune favors the flirtatious.

Gotta be more specific sunshine." He winked at me before starting another. "You might want to get that eye problem checked out. One might mistaken it for flirting.

God bless your soul, you're a horrible liar." Logan smiled as he leaned back on the door. "Answer me this Rachel?" he said placing his hands on his waist. "Why do you keep staring at me?

Go play your games with Jim. I'll find you both when I need you." Arrogant asshole. "I tell you what, if you find us before those three days run out, I'll cook you a damn dinner and serve it to you naked." "Is that a promise?" "Yes. Go fuck yourself.

Gram was flirting with Ken!

Había leído lo bastante como para apreciar mi ingenio literario, pero no lo bastante como para identificar mis fuentes de conocimiento. Me encantan las mujeres así. Podía decirle cosas como: "La principal diferencia entre la felicidad y la alegría es que la felicidad es sólida, mientras que la alegría es líquida" y, escudándome en su ignorancia de Salinger, sentirme ingenioso, seductor y, porqué no decirlo, joven. Notaba que Ernie me miraba fijamente mientras yo me daba pisto, pero qué diablos, pensaba yo. Un hombre tiene derecho a flirtear.

Grayson raised an eyebrow and placed a hand gently on my knee. "I could think of a thing or two." I don't think my reaction was as eager and excited as he was hoping for, because he quickly amended, "Like cards or something.

He invited me to keep my drum in his trunk," I explained as we reached him. Considering our new title, I thought it might help to remind him that this storage operation had been his idea, not mine. "Oh," Will said, turning around with the fresh T-shirt in his hands. Glancing at Kaye and then back at me, he said, "You can't anymore, because of the flirting thing." "Wait a minute." I didn't mean to raise my voice, especially not with Kaye standing there. But I felt baited and switched, so I lashed out. "I can understand why we shouldn't flirt anymore because of the title, but not why I can't leave my drum in your car. This is how it ends, after all our time together? What about the mortgage? What about the kids?

He flashed the warmest smile I'd ever seen, and my heart felt comforted. Maybe D.J. saw my insecurities, my fears. Maybe he knew God still had a lot of work to do in my life before I'd be good girlfriend material. Or maybe, just maybe, he saw beyond all that and simply wanted to flirt with the wedding coordinator instead of rehearse for the big night. I did my best to relax...and let him.

Hekate smacked the mirror down. "I'd never fancy you," she retorted to Hermes. "And if you ever try to kiss me, I'll--I'll keep a snake hidden in my clothes and make it bite you. On the lips. And on both ears." "See, your threats are still age twelve," Hermes said. "I'll help you work on that.

He leaned against the chair, his muscular arms relaxed. “Is yer name Rose Amy.” I gave him an impressed look. I hadn’t expected him to catch on to the vague alphabetical clues to my initials. “Wrong.” “Curses.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth a few times, and I wanted to lean in and kiss him, hard. “Renee… Antoinette”. “I’d kill my mother if she named me Rene Antoinette.” I took another drink of my beer, wishing I hadn’t mentioned my mother. He gave a throaty laugh. “It’s god-awful, that’s fur sure.” “Quit stalling,” I sighed in mock boredom. “Rachel Anne.” My blood slopped to a halt in my veins. “Uh-No.” I lied, hiding the shock in my eyes.

He looked straight at me and winked. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous - 1996 had moved beyond the language of winking at girls.

He slouches,' DeeDee contributes. 'True--he needs to work on his posture,' Thelma says. 'You guys,' I say. 'I'm serious,' Thelma says. 'What if you get married? Don't you want to go to fancy dinners with him and be proud?' 'You guys. We are not getting married!' 'I love his eyes,' Jolene says. 'If your kids get his blue eyes and your dark hair--wouldn't that be fabulous?' 'The thing is,' Thelma says, 'and yes, I know, this is the tricky part--but I'm thinking Bliss has to actually talk to him. Am I right? Before they have their brood of brown-haired, blue-eyed children?' I swat her. "I'm not having Mitchell's children!' 'I'm sorry--what?' Thelma says. Jolene is shaking her head and pressing back laughter. Her expressing says, Shhh, you crazy girl! But I don't care. If they're going to embarrass me, then I'll embarrass them right back. 'I said'--I raise my voice--'I am not having Mitchell Truman's children!' Jolene turns beet red, and she and DeeDee dissolve into mad giggles. 'Um, Bliss?' Thelma says. Her gaze travels upward to someone behind me. The way she sucks on her lip makes me nervous. 'Okaaay, I think maybe I won't turn around,' I announce. A person of the male persuasion clears his throat. 'Definitely not turning around,' I say. My cheeks are burning. It's freaky and alarming how much heat is radiating from one little me. 'If you change your mind, we might be able to work something out,' the person of the male persuasion says. 'About the children?' DeeDee asks. 'Or the turning around?' 'DeeDee!' Jolene says. 'Both,' says the male-persuasion person. I shrink in my chair, but I raise my hand over my head and wave. 'Um, hi,' I say to the person behind me whom I'm still not looking at. 'I'm Bliss.' Warm fingers clasp my own. 'Pleased to meet you,' says the male-persuasion person. 'I'm Mitchell.' 'Hi, Mitchell.' I try to pull my hand from his grasp, but he won't let go. 'Um, bye now!' I tug harder. No luck. Thelma, DeeDee, and Jolene are close to peeing their pants. Fine. I twist around and give Mitchell the quickest of glances. His expressions is amused, and I grow even hotter. He squeezes my hand, then lets go. 'Just keep me in the loop if you do decide to bear my children. I'm happy to help out.' With that, he stride jauntily to the food line. Once he's gone, we lost it. Peals of laughter resound from our table, and the others in the cafeteria look at us funny. We laugh harder. 'Did you see!' Thelma gasps. 'Did you see how proud he was?' 'You improve his posture!' Jolene says. 'I'm so glad, since that was my deepest desire,' I say. 'Oh my God, I'm going to have to quit school and become a nun.' 'I can't believe you waved at him,' DeeDee says. 'Your hand was like a little periscope,' Jolene says. 'Or, no--like a white surrender flag.' 'It was a surrender flag. I was surrendering myself to abject humiliation.' 'Oh, please,' Thelma says, pulling me into a sideways hug. 'Think of it this way: Now you've officially talked to him.

He told me that when we first met, he had said to a friend about me: “If I get that girl’s number I will never ask another girl for her number again.

He stops walking and grasps both of my hands to stop me. He narrows his eyes at me. "You’ve never been tickled? Ever?” His lips curl in a wickedly sexy smile. “You’re a tickle…virgin?” I nod and tilt my head down, looking demure. He makes it sound so erotic. I finally find my voice. “It wasn’t a virginity I ever focused on.

He turned and quickly removed his pants. My eyes grew huge, since he wore nothing underneath. I started to stammer, trying to avert my gaze,his sex all but riveting my eyes as I stared, blatantly helpless.“We will not make love. You’re in this bed as a friend. Why make things difficult?” I was hot all over; his body was perfect, strong, welcoming and oh-so-alive.

Hey, where are you going?" His voice, confused yet curious, called after me. "Hey. Why didn't your mother name you Maybe, or We'll see, or What's-Your-Number? That way, we could call our first born Absolutely.

He wasn't good with this sort of thing - with the back-and-forth dance between man and woman. He wasn't even sure if they were dancing, or if she was merely being polite.

He was universally charming, as only a writer in pursuit of a publisher can be.

I am a mathematician and I can confidently say that the best figure ever produced is your phone number.

His manner invited easy confidence. The preliminary stage of becoming acquainted was one which he always endeavored to ignore when a pretty and engaging woman was concerned.

Honestly, he'd said more perverted things to my face. To my boobs. Did he really think he was school-ing me in being sexy right now? Really? You're completely unimpressed? Zzzzzzzzzzz, I wrote back.

Hurry up, before there's no more night left.

If I have only one coin left in the world, I will buy a rose to propose to you.

I Am Not Sherlock, But I Will Share Happiness With You And Lock you In My Heart For The Rest Of My Life.

I can see how your mother would have a point. Having a debate with a politically minded woman can be intriguing and even entertaining but to share a house with her and have her always campaigning and protesting at the dinner table,” he slanted his gaze down toward me. “That could be very tiring indeed.

“Chloe isn’t flirting with that guy,” Simon said. “Course not.” “I mean it. She’s—” I glanced back at him. “I’m not blind. She’s only paying enough attention to him to be polite. He’s the one flirting, which is bugging her and that’s why I’m pissed off. She’s trying to eat her fries and he’s interrupting.” Simon chuckled.

If beauty had religious and spiritual importance, there would have been your temples all around the world.

If I catch you making eyes at Hunter Chenier tonight, it's over between us.' She looked over her shoulder. 'That a promise?

I can't say I remember this bit in the book,' she commented when he was finished and she was sweeping an applicator along his collarbone and pressing it lightly into the hollow beneath. 'They call it “artistic licence”. ' 'Not just the producers trying to shoe-horn in a scene involving you in a wet shirt?' 'Why would they want that?' There was a soft gleam of white teeth as his lips parted in a smile.

I do not demand attention from a man however, when it is directed at me...I insist it is directed at ONLY me.... I do not share well...

I don't know if anyone's ever told you this", he begins. He doesn't blush, and his eyes don't dart away. Instead I find myself staring into a pair of oceans - one perfect, the other blemished by that tiny ripple. "You're very attractive." I've been complimented on my appearance before. But never in his tone of voice. Of all the things he's said, I don't know why this catches me off guard. But it startles me so much that without thinking I blurt out, "I could say the same about you." I pause. "In case you didn't know." A slow grin spreads across his face. "Oh, trust me. I know.

If sleep wasn't necessary, I would have used those 8 hours just to gaze at you.

If sleep wasn't necessary, I would have used those 8 hours to gaze at you.

I genuinely don’t know how the dating scene works now. People can manipulate their image totally with filters on dating sites, so you don’t know what they really look like. If you try to chat someone up, it’s seen as harassment. Society is fragmenting more and more at an alarming rate.

...I know that if you ask me to jump I will say how high. So I will stay away from you and hope that you never ever say jump.

I get the uneasy suspicion that you're holding something back, Mr. Reading," she said. "Or were you simply going to cast more aspersions on my threadbare wardrobe?" "I'm afraid you're so pretty that I hadn't even noticed your wardrobe, Miss Harriman. Your sister doesn't have the advantage of your beauty." "If that's supposed to make me feel better it's failed," she said, finally getting angry. "My sister is very striking, and only shallow gentlemen would fail to realize that." "I'm very shallow, Miss Harriman. You enchant me. Your sister terrifies me." "Good," she said. Then realized how it sounded. "I mean, good that my sister terrifies you, and I would certainly wish that I could do the same." He looked at her. "In fact, you do terrify me, Miss Harriman, for quite different reasons." "I can't imagine why." His twisted smile was far from reassuring. "I think you would prefer I not mention it to you," he murmured. "I don't understand." "You don't need to.

I hardly have a typo when I am drunk and texting! But, I will have enough typos when I am emotionally charged with love, lust, poetry and hope, and texting!