Head Rub Quotes & Sayings

I slip her shirt over her head and she tries to cover herself, but I move her arms out of the way and kiss up her neck while I talk about all the things that are no longer just mine.
'Will, stop.' She laughs and attempts to pull my hands away from her bra. 'You can't take off my bra, we're in our driveway. What if they come outside?'
'It's dark,' I whisper. 'And it's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off.' I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. 'And I want to take off our pants. — Colleen Hoover

He says that it is good luck to rub the head of a dwarf," Haldon said after an exchange with the guard in his own tongue.
Tyrion forced himself to smile at the man. "Tell him that it is even better luck to suck on a dwarf's cock. — George R R Martin

I feel his fingers slowly rub against my jawline as he lifts my head up. Our eyes meet, and before I can take a breath, his mouth covers mine. — Brooke Cumberland

Yesterday, when we were packing, Julius asked me,
"If you could rub Tulip out of your past life, would you do it?"
And I had to shake my head. I can't regret the times we had together. Sometimes I worry I won't have times like that again, that there will be no lit nights, no incandescent days. But I know it's not true. There can be colour in a million ways. I know I'll find it on my own. — Anne Fine

The dragon flew up and settled in the crook of Mina's hood, and quickly became invisible again.
"I don't trust that thing," Jared shot back.
"Relax, I find him quite cute. Isn't that right, Ander?" She held up a finger and felt the invisible dragon rub its face against her.
"Great, you've named it, now you're gonna want to keep it. But I'm telling you that thing better be house-trained." He turned to the bookshelf and began to pull open the book to open the hidden exit door.
Mina felt Ander leave her shoulder but didn't let Jared know he was missing. She saw Constance's teacup float mysteriously above Jared's head. She clapped her hand over her mouth to contain the laughter. A second later the cup turned over, spilling lukewarm tea on Jared's unsuspecting head.
"Oh, it better not have just peed on me!" he screamed. — Chanda Hahn

There is his right leg over my right leg, my left leg over his right leg, his left arm under my back, my right arm around his head, his right arm across my chest, my left arm across his right arm, and my right hand stroking his right temple. Now it becomes difficult to tell what part of what body is actually mine and what part his. I rub his head as it lies pressed against mine, and I hear the strands of his hair chafing against his skull as though it is my own hair chafing against my own skull, as though I now hear with his ears, and from inside his head. — Lydia Davis

Jules and I smiled a lot. So much, that I found my cheeks actually hurt when I finally rested my head at the end of the day. I would rub the muscles in them, readying them for their inevitable workout the next day. — Fisher Amelie

He smiled then, a slow smile that sent the blood racing through her veins. Lora felt the throbbing inside her intensify until she was sure she would not be able to stand it another second as he slowly, oh, so slowly, lowered his head. His target was her left breast. Lora felt his hot mouth close on the straining nipple, felt him tug the crest of her breast into his mouth to rub it with the rough wet surface of his tongue, and cried out in a frenzy of need.
And in that instant he took her.
She climaxed at once as he squeezed inside, enormous and hard and fiery hot and filling her to bursting. — Karen Robards

I bunch Rachel's hair in my fist. The silky strands rub the spot between my fingers and I press my lips to her head. My heart hurts and soars and hurts again, all at the same time. I said I love her. Love her. — Katie McGarry

She shook her head. What was the point of anger? There were occasions when Mma Ramotswe, like all of us, could feel angry, but they were few - and they never lasted long. Anger, Obed Ramotswe had explained to her once, is no more than a salt that we rub into our wounds. She had never forgotten that - along with the things he said about cattle, and Botswana, and the behaviour of the rains. — Alexander McCall Smith

The walls of the bookstore have wood panels up to just above her head, but beyond that is blue wallpaper. Maya can't reach the wallpaper unless she has a chair. The wallpaper has a bumpy, swirling pattern, and it is pleasing to rub her face against it. She will read the word damask in a book one day and thinks, Yes, of course, that's what it's called. In contrast, the word wainscoting will come as a huge disappointment. — Gabrielle Zevin

Watch this." Hayden
"Oh this is so weird." Hayden in Dragon form.Then he slapped his tail into the wall. "Ow! Have to watch that." He jerked it back and hit himself in the head with the barbed end. Instantly he returned to being human so he could rub his unintended injury. "Oh my God! Is that blood? Look at that! I'm bleeding." Hayden
"Oh my God! only my idiot twin could knock himself out with his own tail. How stupid are you?" Edena — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Voiceover work definitely requires it's own specific muscle. And because you're not seeing what you're recording, and all these things are going on, you really have to use your imagination and stay focused and kind of be able to tap your head and rub your belly at the same time. — Keri Russell

Once he reached the farm he followed a barely used dirt road that led towards the sandstone cliffs. He heard the dog scrabbling across the rocky ground. The huffling of her breath. Some of the rocks were quite large and he turned and watched her stumble into them. In terrain like this she could easily break a leg and yet she lurched on, determined to find him. When she finally reached him she touched his leg with her nose, before settling down a few feet away, blind head looking out of over the dry Limpopo below. He wished he could pluck out her eyes and hold them in his hands like marbles. Rub them together, make thunder, bring rain. Instead he nudged the safety catch off his rifle and shot her. — Lisa Fugard

Tonight, you're going to learn to influence two elements simultaneously."
"I can't believe you ruined a bottle of avise wine."
"I told you magic was a conversation - "
"You also said it was an ocean," said Lila. "And a door, and once I think you even called it a cat - "
"Well, tonight we're calling it a conversation. We're simply adding another participant. The same power, different lines."
"I've never been able to pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time."
"Well then, this should be interesting. — Victoria Schwab

How do you know this is Paige?" I ask, pretty sure this is another fantasy. It's one thing to have Dad's tracking device. It's another to actually be tracking Paige, considering she needs to have the transmitter on her.
"The devil tells me." She lowers her head, looking troubled. "If I promise him certain things," she mumbles.
"Okay." I rub my forehead, trying to be patient. There's a certain art to getting information out of my mom. You need one foot in reality and one foot in her world to get a better picture of what she's talking about. "How does the devil know where Paige is?"
She looks up at me as if I'd asked the dumbest question in the world.
"The transmitter, of course. — Susan Ee

Are you gonna use tongue this time?" she whispers.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a step back, completely thrown off by her comment. I rub my palms down my face and groan.

"Dammit, Six. I was already feeling inadequate. Now you've just put expectations on it."

She's smiling when I look at her again. "Oh, there are definitely expectations," she says teasingly. "I expect this to be the most mind-blowing thing I've ever experienced, so you better deliver."

I sigh, wondering if the moment can possibly be recovered. I doubt it. "I'm not kissing you now."

She nods her head. "Yes you are."

I fold my arms over my chest. "No. I'm not. You just gave me performance anxiety. — Colleen Hoover

I told my dad 'Yeah, I'm going to be a drummer', and he said 'Well, if you can rub your stomach at the same time as you pat your head at the same time you're standing on one leg and kicking the other one out in a circle and say the pledge of allegiance'. And I did all that just like bam, you know? — Tre Cool

She found him standing before the water staring unseeing at its frozen surface. He was shivering. She watched him doubtfully for a moment. 'Po,' she said to his back, where's your coat?'
'Where's yours?'
She moved to stand beside him. 'I'm warm.'
He tilted his head to her. 'If you're warm and I'm coatless, there's only one friendly thing for you to do.'
'Go back and get your coat for you?'
He smiled. Reaching out to her, he pulled her close against him. Katsa wrapped her arms around him, surprised, and tried to rub some warmth into his shivering shoulders and back.
'That's it exactly,' Po said. 'You must keep me warm.'
She laughed and held him tighter. — Kristin Cashore

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

But here lies the rub: she's all I think about. She's the only person I want to spend time with. I'm fascinated by every little thing she does. And the fact of the matter is, I'm in love with her. Heartbreakingly, soul-wrenchingly, earth-shatteringly in love with her. It's nothing like I've ever felt before. And I need her to love me back more than I need to take my next breath. I can't imagine a greater agony than this big, pulsing, fierce love I have for her being unreciprocated. I would rather take a hundred blows to the head out on the field, suffer a thousand concussions, than not have her beside me for the rest of my life. — L. H. Cosway

And I want cabana boys named Raoul to rub
warm, fragrant oil all over me, from head to toe, all over my throat and chest and my legs and arms. I
want - "
Theo pushed the chair back on the deck and it made a loud scraping sound. He grabbed Lucy's face
and kissed her hard, then rose up and placed her on her feet, taking her hand.
"Where are we going, Theo?"
"Shh." He stroked her hair as he led her inside. "The name's Raoul. — Susan Donovan

She writes that one of the moments that she felt most useful was when her mother had a headache, and she would stroke her head and rub her forehead. And I think Eleanor Roosevelt's entire life was dedicated to two things: (one) making it better for all people, people in trouble and in need, like her family. — Blanche Wiesen Cook

I start paying attention to all my movements. How one arm complements the other. And I start thinking about everything I do with two hands. Driving. Golfing. Keyboarding. Even writing really takes two hands. The pen's held in one; the paper's anchored with the other. My mind wanders all over everyday things. Opening a water bottle. Getting dressed. Making a sandwich. Washing dishes. I imagine life with only one hand and realize that it would be hard. In a different way, but still hard ... I rub my hands together, spreading out the soap. And as I massage both sides of my head, I'm thankful for my hands. Thankful to have both of them. — Wendelin Van Draanen

I hold the bottle out into the rain and watch as the steady flow slowly fills it. When there is enough, enough that Beth can clearly see, I close the bottle and hand it to her.
She raises a skeptical eyebrow, but accepts the bottle.
"It's our rain Beth."
Her head barely shakes to show her confusion while I rub the back of my neck and search for my courage. "I told you I loved you in this rain and when you doubt my words, I want you to look at this bottle. — Katie McGarry

Varian rubbed the back of his head where his lump was growing significantly. "Not that I particularly want to defend Merrick, but those little rocks did happen to hurt. Thank the gods for armor."
Merewyn gave him a sweet, sympathetic pout. "Poor baby." She reached up to rub his sore spot, but honestly he'd much rather have her rub something else that was bothering him. The touch of her hand made his entire body break out into chills. Not to mention that the smell of her so close played total havoc with his hormones.
He honestly wanted to curl up beside her and start purring like a cat.
More than that, he had a vicious need to nibble her body until he was drunk on her scent. And there was a thought that made him glad he was wearing his armor again since it kept his erection hidden from the ones around him.
Stepping away from her before he actually did purr, he looked at Merrick. "What other nasty surprises do we have in store for us? — Kinley MacGregor

...there's a great deal which I don't understand
in people. In a human being everything should be beautiful: the face, the clothes, the soul, the thoughts. . . .Often I see a beautiful face and clothes, so beautiful that my head gets giddy with rapture; but as for the soul and thoughts,
my God! In a beautiful outside there's sometimes hidden such a black soul that no whitening can rub it off... — Anton Chekhov

Stu stops munching, looks up at me from under his shaggy hair.
"So, can you read?" He slides a section toward me.
I cock my head toward the paper. The letters are small, blurry drawings. The alphabet might as well be Chinese or Arabic. Strange that I can't read or speak, though I still have language inside my head. Words are a consolation, but not a tool.
"Guess not. You want me to read stuff out loud to you?"
I would, but not right now. If I wanted to show interest in the newspaper I could cross the table and rub against his shoulder. Instead I gaze at him over the bowl of milk.
"It's so weird," he says in a hesitant voice. "You don't look like a cat. When you stare at me, you look like Eliza."
That's the nicest thing he could have said. With a happy lightness to my step I move between the bowls, over his napkin ring and spoon, until I stand on the edge of the table and nip at his prickly chin. This is my way of saying: Hi, there. I like you. — Simone Martel

I'll learn all the katas and be the ninjing-est ninja that ever ninjed." Bubbles whined, so I bent down to rub his silky little head. "Is it the c-word, Bubbs? Don't you worry, we love the doggas as well as the katas." David laughed. — J.L. Merrow

In response, Tom's cock grazed Jon's bare stomach and left behind a slick streak. Jon grinned and sat back on his own heels, grasping his cock in one hand to rub it against the head of Tom's. The first mate let out another low sound, closing his eyes as he thrust his hips further forward. Jon obliged him for a moment; taking the wide head in one hand, he thumbed along the underside, teasing Tom as he stroked his own cock. They'd been at this for the better part of an hour. — Bey Deckard

Ghost shook his head as he sat on the very edge of the bed, poised to take flight if need be. The spiral under his hair felt warm, almost painful, but he resisted the urge to rub it. It never helped when he did, and he was not sure what Gerry would do if the man saw it. The Witch had a symbol she called a triskele, the ink a vivid scarlet still, but no male that had ever come for healing bore a mark like hers, or like his. He had never found the words to ask the Witch about it, about why he was marked like a witch. — Morwen Navarre

Stop looking at me like that," I say, frowning and rubbing at my chest. He has this habit of making my heart sore, making my lungs feel like there's not enough air.
He tilts his head attractively, which only makes matters worse. "Like what?"
"Like you're molesting me with your eyes," I blurt out.
His answering laugh is long and deep. I can barely handle the affection in his gaze. "Okay, I'll try to stop. But if it all gets to be too much for you, this apartment happens to have a very nice bathroom. You can go rub one out again to take the edge off. I'll come listen, too, if that will help."
There he goes again, pushing me.
I do a slow blink at him before coming out with a rather masterful comeback. And when I say "masterful," I mean shit. "Why don't you go and rub one out?"
He cocks an eyebrow. "I don't rub out, darlin'. I jack off. — L. H. Cosway

I shake my head and rub the bridge of my nose. "There's a whole lot more at stake here than just my happiness, so I'll let the doctors do whatever tests they want and answer any questions they have. But after that we save the world. And then we move on, okay? — Kara Swanson

As I tried to rub away the goose bumps, I noticed a door that looked different from the others. The door looked older than the rest and had a plaque that read: Mistress Lillie White, Head of Paranormal Societies. I hesitated before opening the door. Paranormal Societies? I'd been a fan of the paranormal for years, had even written extensively about werewolves and vampires in my urban fantasy novels, but even I didn't believe much of what I researched about the paranormal. — Cora Maxine

Winny and I lived in a house that ran on static electricity. If you wanted to run the blender, you had to rub balloons on your head. If you wanted to cook, you had to pull off a sweater real quick — Steven Wright

As for the topsy-turvy tangle known as soixante-neuf, personally I have always felt it to be madly confusing, like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time. — Helen Lawrenson

The primary math of the real world is one and one equals two. The layman (as, often, do I) swings that every day. He goes to the job, does his work, pays his bills and comes home. One plus one equals two. It keeps the world spinning. But artists, musicians, con men, poets, mystics and such are paid to turn that math on its head, to rub two sticks together and bring forth fire. Everybody — Bruce Springsteen

Don't think that this conversation is over." Kat eyed the two of us.
"I'll make sure no hellion harms a hair on her head until we get the full story." Nikki smiled.
"I am never stealing fruit for the two of you ever again." I begrudgingly replied.
"Oh I really doubt that it was stolen." Nikki beamed.
"You're just as bad as Barakiel."
"I guess he's been bound to rub off on me some, but I am way prettier." She spoke as I moved past her towards the door, yanking it open. — Yelena Lugin

She broke off a piece of bacon and offered it to the cat who sat staring holes through her.
"For him, this is makeup sex. That's all you get," she said when Galahad inhaled the bacon then affectionately butted his head against her calf.

"Just FYI, if you let another man rub up against you, and I sniff it out, you won't be able to buy me off with bacon." He handed her the syrup pitcher so she could drown her French toast.
"So noted. — J.D. Robb

Hollandaise, I would like to pour over my head and just rub all over myself. Eggs Benedict is genius. It's eggs covered in eggs. — Wylie Dufresne

Together they crawled through the attic space, looking for the source of a roof leak they'd discovered in the last bathroom. Jax was out in front,
braving the spiderwebs. Maddie was behind him, working really hard at not looking at his butt.
And failing spectacularly.
So when he unexpectedly twisted around, holding out his hand for the clipboard she was now holding, he caught her staring at him.
"I, um - You have a streak of dirt," she said.
"A streak of dirt."
Yes." She pointed to his left perfectly muscled butt cheek. "There."
He was quiet for a single, stunned beat. She couldn't blame him, given that they were both covered in dirt from the filthy attic. "Thanks," he finally
said. "It's important to know where the dirt streaks are."
"It is," she agreed, nodding like a bobble head. "Probably you should stain-stick it right away. I have some in my purse."
"Are you offering to rub it on my ass? — Jill Shalvis

She shut her eyes: the sweet word "promiscuity" came to her mind and suffused her; she enunciated silently to herself: "promiscuity of ideas." How could such contradictory attitudes follow after one another in a single head like two mistresses in the same bed? In the past that nearly infuriated her, but today it entrances her: for she knows that the contract between what Leroy used to say and what he's professing today doesn't matter in the slightest. Because one idea is as good as another. Because all statements and positions carry the same value, can rub against one another, nestle, snuggle, fondle, mingle, diddle, cuddle, couple. — Milan Kundera

(Brett) "Making friends?"
She jerked, then her spine straightened into posture nuns would be proud of and she turned her head. "He's hard to resist, really." Another belly rub. "You're late."
He crouched down to sit on his heels, and his knees spanned to either side of her arms. Reaching around, he scratched Beans behind the ears. Brett was positive the dog actually sighed with happiness. "I've been here, just didn't think to look for you on the floor. — Jeanette Murray

Why would he go to that?" Reagan asks Pete, and she looks at him like he's grown two horns. "To prove that he's ov - " Pete grunts and shuts up when Reagan elbows him in the stomach. I would have gone for his nuts, honestly. "The invitation was for all of us," Pete grumbles. "We should at least go and eat all their food and drink all their drinks. Just saying." "Did you want to go?" Sky asks me. I shake my head. "Not really." "You said it's an old friend, right?" she asks. I nod my head. "Sort of." "I think you should go." "You could take Sky with you," Pete says. "Rub that shit - " He grunts again when Reagan hits him on the back of the head. "Go for his nuts next time," I tell Reagan. "Good idea," she says as she shoots daggers at him with her eyes. "Your nuts are mine the next time you open your mouth," she warns, pointing a finger toward his crotch. "My nuts have been yours since the day I met you, princess," he says. — Tammy Falkner

As she relaxed against his chest, he pulled her in closer. Turning her face into his shirt, she breathed in the calming scent that was him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into the fabric.
One big hand stroked over her head, down her long ponytail to rub her back in soothing circles. "No, I'm sorry. You've told me before it made you uncomfortable and I pushed. That was an asshole move. You're entitled to your feelings and I shouldn't fight against them. I'm sorry." He dropped a kiss on her temple.
And with that little apology, she stepped off the cliff of denial and fell headfirst into love with Brett Wallace. — Jeanette Murray

Cassidy continued to rub his chest and groaned at Ollie pleadingly. "I don"t like it. Make it stop."
"It"s just love, sweetie. It won"t kill you. I promise."
"Love totally sucks ass!"
Ollie shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps I"m wrong. Maybe you"re having a heart attack."
Cassidy glanced back up, hopeful. "You think?"
Ollie shook his head. "You"re one sick bitch. — Ethan Day