Best 1065 quotes in «hot quotes» category

Her eyes widened. I assumed in alarm, but who the hell knew what was going on in her stubborn head. I took the coffee cup from her hand and rested it on the grass next to mine. I leaned in toward her slowly. Her eyes remained steady on mine. Just as I was so close I could feel her warm erratic breath on my face, her hand landed on my chest. “What are you doing?” she whispered. Maintaining eye contact I smiled, reached out, held the back of her head and pulled her closer still. “What I should have done ten years ago.” ~ Preston, A Perfect Moment

He’s kissing me everywhere, squeezing me, running his fingers over places no one else has touched

He smirks, shaking his head and letting his eyes wander. I watch him carefully, wondering what I can say to get him to leave. “I’m not leaving until you answer some questions. Plus, I’m holding your sketchbook hostage, so you might want to cooperate.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I guess there isn’t much I can say. “This isn’t a hostage negotiation.” He chuckles half-heartedly as his eyes take me in, almost sizing me up. “I guess I should introduce myself.” He holds a hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nathan.” I stare at his hand for a moment. “Taylor,” I reply, meeting his eyes again without taking his hand. He lets his hand fall back to his side. “At least I got you to say something non-hostile.” “I haven’t been hostile,” I object. His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, haven’t you?” “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I snap. “Leave and don’t come back.” I move passed him, heading for my apartment. He can’t follow and annoy me if I lock the door. “Where are you going?” he demands. I look back over my shoulder and roll my eyes at him, indicating the answer should be obvious: anywhere he isn’t. Once inside, I slam the door behind me. “That was totally not hostile!” he calls after me, sarcastically. I quickly head for my bedroom door, slamming it, too.

He slammed her door shut and spun her so she was facing him. “One more for the road.” She stared at him with a perplexed expression but didn’t back away. “I want another taste,” he said, feeling his heart race. He leaned her against the car and crushed his lips against hers. This time she ran her fingers through his hair, making him moan. He wanted to touch the curves of her body through the thick fabric of her dress, but he forced himself to concentrate all his efforts on her sexy, soft, pouty lips. When he released her, they were both breathless. Her lips were chapped, and those golden eyes were on fire with a carnal sexuality. There was so much electricity between them that, if harnessed, they could power the whole damn city.

He’s so pretty it hurts.

He tangles his hand in my hair, and the other cups my jaw. Although I have this all planned, his lips feel shockingly sweet, swollen and soft, and more like home every time

He stares at me—taking me in—with his lips slightly parted. I struggle to hold myself in place as we gawk at each other. I want so desperately to run, but something is holding me back, keeping me in place.

He was sort of beautiful. In his own dark, depressing way, but still. She was going to miss that stupid fucking beautiful face.

He was tall—6’ 3” or so—with haunting green eyes that seemed to smolder despite his lazy smile. His eyes were a great contrast to his thick, shiny, dark hair. And not that I’d ever seen it personally but judging from the way his t-shirt clung to his torso, he had a body that completed the entire handsome package. He was every inch a rock star. He was charming, playful and confident. He was practically irresistible. His only flaw was that he knew it.

He wrapped his lips around her finger and sucked hard as he slowly pulled the digit free, and that secret entrance deep between her thighs clenched like the mouth of a drawstring purse.

His eyes darted over the surface of my face. Like a moth to a blaze he was hesitant, seeming to crave my warmth but not its inevitable burn. He explored me from a distance with his unspoken desire, with the fear that touching me would set him to flame. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to prove very much the opposite.

His muscles flexed as he stood, and Rosa couldn’t prevent herself from watching with veiled admiration. He was certainly a very beautiful man. She looked away in embarrassment, worried she might say or do something inappropriate.

His hands go to my waist—my waist! And they feel so right. I like this closeness. Maybe I like it too much. A guy has never been this close to me. Never. And I can’t believe it’s happening, even if it is to keep from being arrested. My heart beats frantically. Isaiah is hot and scary and hot. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be anywhere near a girl like me? It’s the adrenaline rush. That’s what it is. I like how he feels because I’m still experiencing the adrenaline rush from Isaiah’s NASCAR driving skills. His arm shifts, and I love how that movement causes his muscles to flex. Stop it, Rachel. It’s not real. Focus.

Hot water makes stress, makes you embarrassed… cold makes you to refresh, calm, relax… but mainly dead people are cold and the alive are hotter.

However, I have an enormous desire to change his way of life and try to re-educate him with the ingredient called ardent affection.~Emily

How I wish I was like the water, Flowing so freely with every drop Let my every emotion wonder, No need to start, nor even stop How I wish I was like the fire, Burning with every flame up Leaving a trace of hot desire As a Phoenix raises its' wings up How I wish I was like the earth, Raising each flower from the ground Seeing the beauty of death and birth And then returning to the ground How I wish I was like the wind, Hearing each whisper, sound and thought A lonesome and wandering little wind, Shattering all that has been sought Oh, how I wish I was where you are, Not separated by empty space, so far It seems like we're galaxies apart, But we find hope within our heart And how I wish I was all of the above, So I can come below and yet forget, The beauty of angels which come down like a dove And demons who love with no regret.

I didn't want anyone else to see you. I wanted you all to myself, and I wanted to know what you'd feel like in my arms. I didn't plan it any more than you planned to strip but you did, and I reacted

Hush baby,I got you. No more talking.

I blink rapidly, breaking our reverie and force myself to focus on something,anything, other than his beauty. Or his body. A body I want pressed against mine, limbs and tongues twisted and tangled, our flesh contortioned into X-rated abstract art...

I almost feel bad for declining, but I feel more terrible that I can’t stop looking at how his chest rises and falls with each of his frustrated breaths.

I do not want to discourage you, but if you really feel something for Larsson TIGER, try to forget him! He is not the right man for you. In fact, he is not a right man for any woman in this world." She stands and walks to the bathroom saying, "Larsson TIGER only thinks about tigers, money and fun.

I felt dry as if someone had skinned me. I was not the bones and meat, but the cast-aside skin. The heat had hollowed me.

I don't want to dig him or his sexy self. But I keep losing my clothes when I'm with him.

“Echo and I have class together.” Ashley brightened and pressed a hand to her belly. “Really? Which one?” “Calculus.” “Physics,” I added. “And business technology.” “Español.” Had he purposely made his voice all deep and sexy? His hand moved up a fraction of an inch and squeezed my leg, exerting delicious pressure on my inner thigh. I twisted my hair away from my neck to release some of the heat. Noah either choked on his own spit or stifled a laugh. Thankfully, my father missed the show.

I felt drunk on Chase and high on summertime. Why did that sound just like a country song?

If he knows where to put it and how to use it, who am I to argue?

I freeze, my feet suddenly glued to the floor. It takes me a minute to gather the courage to turn around, but when I do, I immediately wish I hadn't. The boy is standing in the doorway at the end of the hall. Why is he here again? I barely allow myself time to ask the question before I move. Panicked, I turn and run back downstairs as fast as I can. "Hey! Wait!" he calls after me. I don't stop.

If the weather is summer in your mind, even the coldest winter will be hot for you! If the weather is winter in your mind, even the hottest summer will be cold for you!

I half hoped he would be shirtless, but then wanted to smack myself at the ridiculous secret confession.

I grip Colin harder, kissing him longer, unwilling to let him go. This is what I want; this is what I’ve wanted since his damn phone interrupted us this morning, his mouth, his body claiming mine. I’m on fire, every muscle in my body attuned to his, my groin clenching with delicious need. When the voices grow louder his hold loosens. “Don’t stop, please,” I beg into his mouth. Diving into me once more his tongue slays me, erases every thought of the outside world until the passion has left us breathless and we have to break away if only to live. His forehead presses to mine as we gasp together, the cold air barely cooling the heat raging between us. -Midnight, A McKenna Chronicle

If you add your hot passion to the cold attitude of another person, it becomes lukewarm. Don’t stand on the toes of dwarfs; stand on the shoulders of giants!

I glanced again. He was still watching me. Look, let me just say it: He was hot. A nonhot boy stares at you relentlessly and it is, at best, awkward and, at worst, a form of assault. But a hot boy... well.

I grab the nearest lamppost when my knees threaten to give out, panting for breath as the words rip through me

I have an unforgettable destiny for this girl's virginity." ~Larsson TIGER

I head in the direction of the Eiffel Tower when I exit the alley, relieved to be out of the dark.

I held his energy in my hand. When it was firm, when it was rising, I let it go, eased it down to his inner thigh, watched it spring back up

Il clitoride, adesso. Ti prego.

I know you're saying something profound, but it's hard to focus when your tits are out.

I know how you feel about me. I feel the same way. You never have to worry that you don't tell me enough, okay?" There he went again, being all perceptive to the point of being creepy psychic mind reader guy. "You're creepy psychic mind reader guy." He raised an eyebrow. "Creepy?" "In a hot way." "There's a hot way to be creepy?" "Slide your hand south and creepy will certainly become hot.

I likened her to the slender PSYCHÉ and judged that the perfection of her face ennobled everything unclean around her: The dusty hems of her bunched-up skirt, the worn straps of her nightshirt; the blackened soles of her bare feet [...] All this and the pungent air! Ô this night, sweet pungent night! "HÉBÉ" may come but a season. But this girl's season would know a hot spring and an Indian summer.

I’m going to put you on the ground, now, Willa.” He clutches a fistful of my hair and whispers hotly against my ear. “Then I’m going to get between your thighs and fuck you. I told you this was inevitable, didn’t I?

Lonely. My heart grips as the word crosses my mind. So many different feelings come with the word, not just loneliness. The word went beyond its definition. Loneliness has a deeper meaning to those who truly know what it means to be alone.

I'm friends with a guy who is friends with a former Playboy model. So I guess you could say I'm 1 degree away from 212 degrees.

I missed talking to you, and playing with you, and touching you, and seeing you smile. I missed just … sitting next to you. I’ve never missed anyone or anything that much

I'll teach you how to come with a man inside you. Not a boy, Addison, a man.

I made a tactical error tonight with Wyatt." She paused "Horizontally." Sara laughed. "Again?

I'm a hot..and cool guy.

I'm being pulled under - father and farther from the surface. My lungs continue to scream for air. Panic is building inside me, threatening to combust. I can't break free. Help! I can't break free! I open my mouth to scream.

I’m fifteen and I feel like girl my age are under a lot of pressure that boys are not under. I know I am smart, I know I am kind and funny, and I know that everyone around me keeps telling me that I can be whatever I want to be. I know all this but I just don’t feel that way. I always feel like if I don’t look a certain way, if boys don’t think I’m ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’ then I’ve failed and it doesn’t even matter if I am a doctor or writer, I’ll still feel like nothing. I hate that I feel like that because it makes me seem shallow, but I know all of my friends feel like that, and even my little sister. I feel like successful women are only considered a success if they are successful AND hot, and I worry constantly that I won’t be. What if my boobs don’t grow, what if I don’t have the perfect body, what if my hips don’t widen and give me a little waist, if none of that happens I feel like what’s the point of doing anything because I’ll just be the ‘fat ugly girl’ regardless of whether I do become a doctor or not. I wish people would think about what pressure they are putting on everyone, not just teenage girls, but even older people – I watch my mum tear herself apart every day because her boobs are sagging and her skin is wrinkling, she feels like she is ugly even though she is amazing, but then I feel like I can’t judge because I do the same to myself. I wish the people who had real power and control the images and messages we get fed all day actually thought about what they did for once. I know the girls on page 3 are probably starving themselves. I know the girls in adverts are airbrushed. I know beauty is on the inside. But I still feel like I’m not good enough.

Im Hunter. The guy who has sex like an animal. If you're with me. I'll fucking tear you to pieces" -Hunter (fierce)