Best 13 quotes in «inked quotes» category

He wrapped her hair around his fist, tilted her head back, and kissed her. Hard. She moaned into him, and he pulled away. "Possessive much?" she asked on a laugh. "Just making sure these hooligans know you're mine." Her brow rose. "Really? Yours? Talk about caveman." "I'm a Gallagher, baby, I'm as caveman as they come.

After a few seconds of scraping, I realize what he has isn’t a trail, it’s a whole forest! Ack! Weren’t all men supposed to shave their chest and stuff nowadays? Whatever happened to having fuzz-free Hollywood heroes as role models? At least my embarrassment is completely foregone by the irritation at his lack of upkeep. The only thing distracting me now is that heady mix of musk, shaving cream and a distinctly…male scent. And God knows that is one seriously jeopardizing distraction. Especially with a whizzing needle in one’s hand.

Even though being a good speller has lost its ranking in school, we can hope there is one group of artisans that still finds spelling important…the tattoo artist

He's lost everything once, and now, he wasn't sure if he had anything left to lose.

I'll tattoo your heart with words from my soul, and ink from my pen.

I'm also getting a piece of chocolate cake... "Can I have a bite?" he asked, his voice smooth and sexy. A bite of what? she wanted to ask, but didn't. She wasn't ready for that level of flirting. "Get your own slice, Gallagher." "I can do that, Blake. I'm in the mood for something sweet it seems.

He grinned at her intently before leaning over the counter and running his thumb along her jaw. It took everything inside of her not to lean into that touch. When he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, she made a little sound that caused Graham to growl. "Later," he whispered as he pulled back.

It's how we work," his brother said simply. "I plan. Jake refines. Owen organizes. And you growl and grunt.

She tells me she is good at breaking hearts and I cannot stop thinking of getting inked with such a beautiful scar.

O' melancholy,hectic chill for human soul,herewith dismal presence,any spirit does descent.

This woman could make a saint sin.

She wouldn’t want to be caught on his bad side—assuming he had a good side—yet the naughty bad boy vibes were like an undercurrent pulling her in. Don’t-mess-with-me meets I-dare-you-to-resist.

When the pieces fell around him, he'd pick them up. It was what he was good at, after all. Restoring what was once lost, what could never be perfectly whole again.