Quotes & Sayings About Exotic Eyes

Oh my gosh, he smells good, like some exotic but comforting spice, nutmeg or cardamom. Slowly Damian lowers his head to mine and I think my chest might explode, my heart is tap-dancing so quickly.
He's going to kiss me.
I've imagined this and now it's really happening, I am like a block of wood. I can't move. I can't breathe. I close my eyes as the lightest feather of a breath , then lips, brushing over my lips. His breath is sweet and the taste of coffee barely lingers in his mouth. I feel as though my whole body has turned to liquid, into a river of millions of droplets, rushing apart and then back together.
"You have the softest lips," he whispers as he pulls back to look at me.
"So do you," I murmur. Oh, was that a stupid thing to say? I turn my face into his jacket and breathe in his scent. — Lisa Ann Sandell

Hey Sydney, she said, giving me a small, crooked smile as she entered the room. Her flashing, dark eyes were friendly, but they were also assessing everything in the room, much as Eddie's gaze was. It was a guardian thing. Rose was about my height and dressed very casually in jeans and a red tank top. But, as always, there was something as exotic and dangerous about her beauty that made her stand out from everyone else. She was like a tropical flower in this dark, stuffy room. One that could kill you. — Richelle Mead

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. — Joss Stirling

He met my gaze then. We were sitting very close. The irises of his eyes were amazingly clear and brown, like some exotic spice dissolved in brandy. You need a challenge, he had told me, and I found it right there in his gaze, along with the promise that not only was I going to lose but I would enjoy it.
-Ella's thoughts — Lisa Kleypas

And then I saw her, who I could have only assumed with Aura Tsang, a very petite women, with the exotic features of those you associate with an Asian background complete with slick dark hair but the most amazing piercing blue eyes, the type that any Aryan would have be proud of. She seemed to have the persona that made her a person of the world,Yet, there was the energy that she was giving off, a energy of a powerful and brave woman who could and would take on the world and yet she had the gentlest smile complete with dimples. I was transfixed by her and I felt that my heart would burst into a thousand of pieces if she spoke to me, which of course she would and it did. — Beverley Price

Are you still running that bar?" Maureen's voice dropped to a shocked whisper on the last word and Hope rolled her eyes, working the pick through Maureen's thick hair.

"The Cue Club? Yes, ma'am, I am." Angel leaned forward with her best devilish wink. "But I'm thinking of changing the name to the Den of Iniquity and getting some exotic dancers. You know, strippers."

Miss Maureen's eyes widened, pencil-thin brows nearly reaching the salt and pepper curls falling onto her forehead. — Linda Winfree

The first thing we saw at the pet store was this scary white cat sitting on his own pedestal. He fluffed out his fur in a huff of attitude. His weird eyes were like lasers, way more expressive than human eyes. It felt like he could read my soul. His eyes were all, Yeah. I know you. I know everything you're thinking. The cat was acting all exotic and important. Which I guess is what happens when you're put on your own pedestal. — Susane Colasanti

An elderly diner from a neighboring table had been dying for an excuse to stare at the exotic woman with rubies around her neck, and now Laksha had provided her one by laughing so loudly. She noticed the woman's stare and waggled her finger between us and explained, "We were just talking about goatfucking." The woman's eyes bulged in shock - and so did those of her dinner companions - but rather than scold Laksha for being so rude, they hastily returned to attacking their enchiladas with their dentures, eyes studiously contemplating plates of melted cheese and red sauce. — Kevin Hearne

Gerry reached up to smooth a bit of that snowy mane. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk to reveal a witch's mark, a spiral of olive-green stones that seemed to be a part of Ghost's very forehead, shining against the translucent skin. Gerry had seen such marks before, peculiar glyphs burned into a witch's skin in vibrant jewel-tone inks to offer protection or enhance their power, or so the witches claimed. This was the first time he had seen actual jewels used, though. He thought it was beautiful, exotic like all of Ghost, with that white hair and those ice blue eyes. Gerry returned to admiring the peaceful face resting on his shoulder. — Morwen Navarre

The tinkle of wind chimes announcing the return of our fairy guests made us both look up. Our chance to be alone was going to be shorter than either of us had hoped.
I sighed and brushed an errant dragon scale from Eadric's tunic. "Someday when we have lots of time, remind me to tell you what you mean to me."
Eadric tilted my head back so he could gaze into my eyes. "I can tell you what you mean to me with just one word."
Let me guess," I said, smiling up at him. "Maybe I make you happy because you no longer have to enter kissing contests to find the best kisser? Do I bring excitement into your life because I can wisk you away to exotic lands on my magic carpet? Or do you find me delightful because I can conjure food whenever you're hungry?"
No, that's not ... Wait, what was that last one?"
I laughed and shook my head. "Never mind. So tell me in one word, what do I mean to you?"
That's easy," said Eadric. "Everything! — E.D. Baker

The shade of the sky changed ever so slightly in her peripheral vision. She raised her eyes from her toes to the horizon, to witness the sun's last dance in the daylight as it began to descend slowly, magically into the distant sea. Exotic pastel hues of orange and fuchsia were now painted across the fading expression of the day. It was a calm yet isolating vision to take into her heart, for it made her feel exceedingly small in the grand scheme of things. — Kim Cormack

His name was as exotic as his looks. The deadly combination of lush chocolate brown hair, those intense pale blue eyes and his lithe figure that just screamed he would look like a god naked, was too much for her. — Jennifer Ashley

Kitty, I am sorry if I misled you but..."
"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes and slid next to him placing her mouth on his ear. Evan groaned as he felt her fingers on the tent at his pants. The scent of her skin hit his nostrils like sweet, exotic perfume and right then he longed to bury his head in her shoulder, to eat her out and make her cum before he fucked her ass. "I know what you need and all those filthy things you crave to do with her. Punish her, claim her as really yours, fuck her till she screams, make her beg on her hands and knees. — Lilah E. Noir

What a luxury a cat is, the moments of shocking and startling pleasure in a day, the feel of the beast, the soft sleekness under your palm, the warmth when you wake on a cold night, the grace and charm even in a quite ordinary workaday puss. Cat walks across your room, and in that lonely stalk you see leopard or even panther, or it turns its head to acknowledge you and the yellow blaze of those eyes tells you what an exotic visitor you have here, in this household friend, the cat who purrs as you stroke, or rub his chin, or scratch his head. — Doris Lessing

He can come up with the most exotic things I've ever seen or heard of every time he blinks his eyes. — David Eddings

Maybe i would become a mermaid ... i would live in the swirling blue-green currents, doing exotic underwater dances for the fish, kissed by sea anemones, caressed by seaweed shawls. I would have a doliphin friend. He would have merry eyes and thick flesh of a god. My fingernails would be tiny shells and my skin would be like jade with light shining through it I would never have to come back up
— Francesca Lia Block

Ali wrinkled her forehead and cocked her head to the side. Clearly, she hadn't prepared herself for me to be pleasant. After a moment, her eyes narrowed. "What exactly did you and Lake did yesterday?" she asked, like we might have held up a gas station and gone on a crime spree across the country, all in the span of just a few hours.
"We went to Mexico, had some tequila, eloped with a pair of drug smugglers, and took part-time jobs as exotic dancers. You know, same old, same old."
Ali snorted.
"I'm torn on stripper names. It's either going to be Lady Love or Wolfsbane Lane. Thoughts?"
Ali threw a onesie at me. "Brat. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I met a guy, very exotic to me - he was blonde with blue eyes - and I just had a fling that turned out to be love. I moved to San Francisco to spend a week with him and get him out of my system; I'm still here 26 years later. — Isabel Allende

She danced with complete abandon. She never felt so light and free. She could stretch her arms forever, touch the heavens and pull down the stars. She would give him the stars to keep in his pocket, she thought. They would bring him good luck. She jumped and laughed and drew giggles from some of the other girls. She felt high, though she never before experienced a drug high. But then what was she thinking? He was her drug, and she felt high on the dark, rich honey. Honey that matched the color of his eyes. She could drink him to overflowing and never be satisfied. She was filled with the honey even now; it coursed through her limbs - a powerful, exotic, demanding potion that ordered her to dance. And so she did. She danced. — S. Walden

I put a sour cherry pastille on my tongue, but the combination jarred. A meaty, protein taste was called for. With a cool skin, sticky sweet fragrance in the nostrils, the aleatory drip of timeless water echoing in your ears, a limbo beyond the muscle spindles... you become a spiced mummy in a cool chamber beneath the Nile. This salt-surfeited breeze tingling every corpuscle of my skin set me adrift on a cool back eddy near a basser sea... but the wave lap and sibilance of the palm leaves was like the rustle of a costly veil... in what exotic world did a vortex of primary colours drain into the eyes?... did it all make me a taffeted plankter drinking substance from the spectrum of a fractured sun?"

-"Cancerous Kisses of Crocodiles — William Scott Home

She had made Matthew want to smile. With her luminous skin, her exotic cinnamon-colored eyes and quicksilver expressions, Daisy Bowman seemed to have come from an enchanted forest populated with mythical creatures. — Lisa Kleypas

As they approached a puddle, he laid his hand against the small of her back to steer her around it, and her stomach flipped over.
Stupid, traitorous stomach, performing acrobatics for the likes of Dom Manton. Why couldn't it do that with Edwin? He, at least, wanted to marry her.
But sadly, Edwin didn't have smoldering eyes the exotic color of the finest jade. Or hair cropped unfashionably short, which only emphasized the carved masculine lines of his face. Or a body that looked so amazing in blue superfine it made a grown woman want to weep.
She would not weep over Dom's body, curse it! — Sabrina Jeffries

Her honey-coloured hair fell in heavy wavesbelow her shoulders and as she stared up at him her eyes, clear, speckled amber, seemed to tilt at the corners; her brows were black and swept up in arcs, and she had thick black lashesh. There was about her a kind of warm luxuriance, something immediately suggestive to the men of pleasurable fulfillment- something for which she was not responsible but of which she was acutely conscious. — Kathleen Winsor

She leaned back, closing her eyes and blowing out a thin wisp of smoke. "He was always a good-looking man. Your eyes are from him, the same blue, but you are slimmer of build and have your grandmother's exotic face rather than his rounder, friendly one. He was a bit of a bounder, as men of his looks are apt to be."
I grinned at this, adding to my mental picture.
"He married as often as ... " she blinked, laughed, "well, as often as I did, I suppose, though my reasons were infinitely better. — Angela Misri

Eyes speak louder than words; life is precious; hate is poison; God is the best of all possible friends; silence and time are valuable treasures; happiness can be just as powerful in pretend; and soft licorice is a temptation in any color, especially exotic black. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Isabelle had been trained to wake up early every morning, rain or shine, and a slight hangover did nothing to prevent it from happening again. She sat up slowly and blinked down at Simon. She'd never spent and entire night in a bed with anyone else, unless you counted crawling into her parents bed when she was four and afraid of thunderstorms. She couldn't help staring at Simon as if he were some exotic species of animal. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly open, his hair in his eyes. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. His t-shirt was pulled up slightly. He wasn't muscular like a shadowhunter. He had a smooth flat stomach but no six-pack, and there was still a hint of softness to his face. What was it about him that fascinated her? He was plenty cute, but she had dated gorgeous faerie knights, sexy shadowhunters ...
"Isabelle," Simon said without opening his eyes. "Quit staring at me. — Cassandra Clare

Only two percent of the world's population have green eyes."
Kell said it so Gethin would turn and look at him full on. He did. Moss green. Lagoon green. A tiger's eyes. He wished he had the perfect words to describe the colour. Exotic. Exciting. Sexy. — Barbara Elsborg

Because she could feel what he felt. And along with the gratitude, the sheer satisfaction and relief, were other emotions. Appreciation, joy, wonder, and-oh, dear God, LOVE ...
Gabriel loved her.
She could see herself in his mind, an image so cloaked in glamourand ethereal grace that she could scarcely recognize it. A girl with red-gold hair like a meteor trail and smokey-blue eyes with strange rings in them. An exotic creature that burned like an eager flame. More witch than human.
Kaitlyn — L.J.Smith