Best 65 quotes in «teasing quotes» category

Twinkle twinkle little star, I want to hit you with a car. Throw you off a bridge so high, Hope you break your neck and die.

There was also a package wrapped in pale blue paper and tied with a matching ribbon. Picking up a small folded note that had been tucked under the ribbon, Beatrix read: A gift for your wedding night, darling Bea. This gown was made by the most fashionable modiste in London. It is rather different from the ones you usually wear, but it will be very pleasing to a bridegroom. Trust me about this. -Poppy Holding the nightgown up, Beatrix saw that it was made of black gossamer and fastened with tiny jet buttons. Since the only nightgowns she had ever worn had been of modest white cambric or muslin, this was rather shocking. However, if it was what husbands liked... After removing her corset and her other underpinnings, Beatrix drew the gown over her head and let a slither over her body in a cool, silky drift. The thin fabric draped closely over her shoulders and torso and buttoned at the waist before flowing to the ground in transparent panels. A side slit went up to her hip, exposing her leg when she moved. And her back was shockingly exposed, the gown dipping low against her spine. Pulling the pins and combs from her hair, she dropped them into the muslin bag in the trunk. Tentatively she emerged from behind the screen. Christopher had just finished pouring two glasses of champagne. He turned toward her and froze, except for his gaze, which traveled over her in a burning sweep. "My God," he muttered, and drained his champagne. Setting the empty glass aside, he gripped the other as if he were afraid it might slip through his fingers. "Do you like my nightgown?" Beatrix asked. Christopher nodded, not taking his gaze from her. "Where's the rest of it?" "This was all I could find." Unable to resist teasing him, Beatrix twisted and tried to see the back view. "I wonder if I put it on backward..." "Let me see." As she turned to reveal the naked line of her back, Christopher drew in a harsh breath. Although Beatrix heard him mumble a curse, she didn't take offense, deducing that Poppy had been right about the nightgown. And when he drained the second glass of champagne, forgetting that it was hers, Beatrix sternly repressed a grin. She went to the bed and climbed onto the mattress, relishing the billowy softness of its quilts and linens. Reclining on her side, she made no attempt to cover her exposed leg as the gossamer fabric fell open to her hip. Christopher came to her, stripping off his shirt along the way. The sight of him, all that flexing muscle and sun-glazed skin, was breathtaking. He was a beautiful man, a scarred Apollo, a dream lover. And he was hers.

Tumble me down, and I will sit Upon my ruines (smiling yet:) Teare me to tatters; yet I'le be Patient in my necessitie. Laugh at my scraps of cloathes, and shun Me, as a fear'd infection: Yet scarre-crow-like I'le walk as one, Neglecting thy derision.

We’re your friends. Our job is to tease you mercilessly about your foibles, rag you about your upright, honorable nature, and point out to you when you’re being a complete dolt.

Watch it, nasty boy, or I might jest have you fixed, iffin you not careful.

We're leaving," I told her one July afternoon. "We? You and I? Where are we going, young Master Paul? Do you have your belongings tied up in a red-spotted handkerchief on a stick?

We sat there smiling at each other, shimmied to a standstill, thinking about all the boys that had wanted us that day, and how none of them had got us, not for a minute; how we'd let them pay for drinks and candyfloss and then run away laughing, their cries of 'Slags!' and 'Bitches' ringing in our ears like respect rather than derision.

Why do I spend every moment with you thinking about why I did not go in the opposite direction when I had the chance?

What do you want to talk about until the flight is called?" "Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge." I burst out laughing. "You mean anything that won’t give you an erection?" He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. "Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs." "Just don’t look at me." "I can still smell you." "I could move." "Dare move away from me and I’ll put you over my knee, Wife." "That doesn’t sound so bad.

What? You’re just going to stand there and watch me?” she snapped at him. “You’re not very nice,” he stated, taking a lesson from his brother. “I’m not nice? You’re the one who busted into a bank and blew a man’s hand to kingdom come!” she said. “You shot me, you kidnapped me, you cut off my hair. I’ve got a bruise in the shape of your handprint on my upper arm. But I’m not a nice person?” she fumed. “Tell me, which of the items on that list would inspire me to be nice to you?” Stacy had worked herself into such a rage that she couldn’t stop. “I swear, I’d love to beat the crap out of you!

Why do we have this desire to tease the innocent? Is it envy?

Why, Jack-off... You actually have a sense of humor! You should share that playful side more often. Guys really go for it.

What a pleasant gentleman," Sophia remarked. "Yes," Eliza agreed with a chuckle, "and Dr. Linley is unmarried as well. Many fine ladies in London want his services, both professional and personal. Whoever brings him to scratch will be a lucky woman." "What do you mean by personal services?" Sophia asked, perplexed. "Surely you are not referring to-" "Oh, yes," the cook-maid said slyly. "They say Dr. Linley is skilled in the bedroom arts as well as-" "Eliza," Sir Ross interrupted grumpily, "if you must engage in prurient gossip, please do it in a room where I am not forced to listen." He scowled at both women, his gaze settling on Sophia. "Surely there is something better for the two of you to discuss than 'bedroom arts'." Sophia's laughing gaze met Eliza's. "He is quite right," she said. "We should not lower ourselves to gossip in front of Sir Ross." She paused before adding mischievously, "You can tell me the rest about Dr. Linley when we're in the kitchen.

Why thank you, little lady,' Dan answers, sounding more like John Wayne than me. He flexes his muscles. 'Let me strap on my manly board and show you what I can really do.

You don't have to make fun of it." "Actually I do," I said. "I make fun of almost everything.

You again?" I glanced to my left and there was Ryker. I almost laughed at the irony. Pretty soon he’d think I was running into him on purpose. “What’s his name?” I asked, jerking my chin toward his dark bay charger sporting white socks. “Napoleon,” he said, which surprised me. His response almost sounded human. “And don’t get too close to him. He bites.” I rolled my eyes. That was more like him. “Oh, that’s okay. I bite back.” I could have sworn his lips twitched into what appeared to be a grin.

Yes. Reyn is our resident horse master. He has an excellent seat." I grinned. "I've noticed." Reyn's face tightened and Nell flushed, looking embarrassed. "It's an equestrian term." "Really? I thought you were talking about his ass.

You forgot the magic word. Fuck you.

You heard Alanna. Someone’s got to be on you at all times.” His dark eyes glinted with a hot sort of mischief, his double entendre clear as day.

You're welcome to try

You're a little bit of a show-off. First you get us out of hell. And then you defeat like the biggest, baddest Watcher on the books, and then you go on a high-speed, very high-altitude chase, and then you resuscitate the dead. Are you done? Because seriously, I don't know if I can take any more excitement.

You took so long I got bored.” She widened her smile, teeth showing. “Next time freshen up quicker, princess.

You’ve been one busy worm!

According to horses, a good friend is someone who listens, appreciates your company and teases you, but is protective at the same time.

A bully is nothing more than a bunch of bull with a Y attached to its rear.

Daniel's chocolate eyes studied her, and a wave of heat stung her cheeks. What did he think? He said nothing, just raked her with a gaze that made her feel self-conscious and gangly. He stood and held out his hand. I'd better take my gun. Confusion thickened her tongue. Your gun? I'll have to protect you from the other men. He grinned but the admiration in his eyes was clear.

Ah, now,” crooned Adam, “here we are, then.” With infinite care, as though he were handling a babe, he lifted the sword out, and a sigh seemed to go through him. “Ah, my lovely, it’s been far too long.” “Shall I leave you two alone, then?” Eliza’s lips twitched. She’d never seen such a look of reverence mixed with old familiarity. It was nearly indecent. Adam spared her a glance. “Quiet woman, a man’s relationship with his sword is a sacred thing.” “So I’ve heard.

As much as Milly loved seeing Asa on that tractor, a part of her dreaded the days he came to mow, not only because her father made her go out to him with cookies and lemonade and watched her closely the entire time, but also because on those nights, Bett and Twiss would trick her into talking about Asa, and Milly would fall for their tricks. Milly understood Twiss's reasons for teasing her- Twiss didn't want to lose her- but she never understood Bett's. Bett would start innocently enough. "I heard Milly was talking to someone in the meadow the other day. I heard she baked him a red velvet cake shaped like a heart." "I heard she did more than that," Twiss would say. "With Mr. Peterson." "She likes them old, yep, she does." "Wrinkly," Bett would say. "Hairy." "Pruney!" When Milly could no longer stand the teasing, she'd pull her blanket over her head and say, "It wasn't Mr. Peterson I was talking to, it was Asa! And it wasn't red velvet cake, it was butter cookies! They weren't shaped like hearts, either!" And then the laughter would come, and Milly would know she'd been fooled into giving up another part of herself that she preferred to keep secret. The night she first told them about how much she admired Asa's work ethic (when she really just meant him), Bett and Twiss had made fun of her, and of Asa's slight stutter. "M-M-May I eat one of your cookies?" "Y-Y-Yes, you may." "M-M-May I love you like coconut flakes?" "L-L-Love me like coconut flakes, you may." They laughed when they said the word "love," but that was the word Milly had begun to think about- the possibility of it- whenever she was with Asa and, even more often, when she was without him. The word was with her when she pinned clothes to the line, or scrubbed the linoleum, or baked a pie. Sometimes, when no one was looking, she'd trace an A into a well of flour or hold a mop as though she were holding Asa's hand.

Don’t grumble,” I said. “Or I’ll bake you more cookies.

Don't tease me. Everything wounds me now except perfect kindness.

Don’t tease,” she muttered, trembling with need. “I can’t bear it.” “Sweetheart…” His silky whisper caressed her cheek. “I’m afraid you’ll have to.” “Wh-why?” She caught her breath as he withdrew, giving her only the tip of his shaft. “Because there’s nothing I love more than teasing you.

Don’t worry. I know she’s your sister. I’ll treat her right. In bed and out. I’m willing to listen to any objections you may have, though. No? Nothing? Okay, then.

Dork," I chastised affectionately. But his cheesy exclamation was something I was okay with. I smiled up at him. His hazels danced with mischief. "Okay," I agreed. The mischief turned to triumph. Damn those magic eyes!

He felt a stab of satisfaction at the way her cheeks colored and her eyes darkened with trepidation. Her emotions showed readily on her face. She had translucent skin that colored easily, and it would be tempting to spend his time provoking a reaction out of her. She was a match for him in more ways than one.

He laughs. "No! Aguaje is for girls. If a man eats to much of it, he starts to look like a woman." "That is the most unscientific thing I've ever heard." "Then you haven't met my cousin Jacari." Eio swings the string of fruit back and forth. " Too much aguaje. Now the mothers use him as wet nurse." My mouth freezes in mid-bite, and I stare at him. "You're teasing me." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe.

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.

And then he asked me how I felt about you.” Now I put real effort into wrestling out of his choke hold, eventually succeeding. I pull back and stare at Shane, horrified. “He didn’t.” “He did.” His expression is carefully blank, dark eyes fathomless. “And…you said…” “I said…” “That you’re in awe of me?” “Uh-huh.” “That you admire my work ethic?” “Yep.” “And envy my wicked sense of humor?” “No.” “My fabulous legs?” “Meh.” “You lie!

As we hop out of the truck and head towards the entrance, I tell Cole that it's okay and let him know that he's not the first straight guy that I've been with. He asked, "You've been with other STRAIGHT guys?" "Yeah. So don't worry. You don't ever have to do ANYTHING that you don't wanna do. And we can do whatever you want ANYTIME you want. Or NEVER do it again. Alright?" He laughed, "I KNEW that you were a little whore." I chuckle with delight.

Dragons are among the most ancient spirits. Their origins are not known, but they significantly predate the rise of man. [This author advises the reader never to ask a dragon about the early days of humanity, as they tend to remark that we were much more entertaining as a species before we climbed down from the trees.]

Hey, A-D-D,” she called out to Claire, “come over and try these on.

Hey, ghosts are nothing to laugh at! Whether or not you believe in them, they’re out there. I’ve seen them. I’ve even heard them.

-Humph! Said Ami as she then quickly pulled ahead of me, having grown tired of my silent treatment. However, as she slipped by, I couldn’t resist quickly reaching over and flipping-up the back of her skirt, just enough to see that she had a panda on the back of her panties, my fingers never touching her ass, yet I could feel the warmth underneath. -Nice bear behind you got there! So I said She froze in mid step, and looked as if she was going to turn around, but instead she shuttered as if a tingling electric shock had gone all through her body. I then noticed that the back of her neck to the roots of her hair had turned a lobster red! Though whether that was because of embarrassment or anger or both I’m not sure. In any case, Ami’s hands became tight fists, and then with a growl like a tigress she quickly stomped off. I have actually heard a growl like that since that time. It’s the sound of a female Nepali snow leopard, in heat, just before it pounces on a potential mate.

High school will probably be better. I mean, some kids will still be jerks, but it's not so bad if you have at least one good friend. Someone who gets you.

I caught him by the collar and dumped him into the nearest bin. "That's where people like YOU belong!" I spat at him as his legs wiggled in the air. "In the garbage!" - Chapter 2: Miserable Torture

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.

I jokingly asked if his friends teased him for being a feather thief, but his face clouded at the word thief. “I try to refrain from certain words,” he said. “Thief is one of them. This is going to sound very strange, but I don’t feel like a thief.

He took great pleasure in teasing her; he’d decided that Bee was no name for a person, and that it must just be the first letter of her real name. So every time he came in, he addressed her by a new and awful name that started with B.

... Mary bit her lip. “She is merely saying hello.” Oh, I am, Tottie agreed. I’ve been wanting to say hello to Mr. Jack for an age, personal-like. Her hand glided over his chest and headed down. Such a fine cocky fella, ye are. Shall we see if it’s all just tall tales, then, me lad?

It's part of the marriage vows. Didn't you read the fine print? To have and to harass.

...It also taught me that while cruelty can be fun for a few moments, compassion has a much longer shelf life.