Him And Her Laura Quotes & Sayings

The truth is Fort Endeavor needs you." Confused, she shifted in her seat, darting a look at him. "I need you," he amended quietly. "Not just your services as scrivener. I need your goodness and gentleness and strength. Sometimes I think you're the only one I can trust, even above my own officers. — Laura Frantz

She'd found him. She'd helped him. She'd saved him. He was hers. And they'd taken him away, ripped him from her arms, literally. — Laura Kaye

I made a terrible mistake marryin' Piper. It was you I said my vows to on my weddin' day - your face was in my mind. And that night 'twas you I - " "Nay!" She covered his mouth with her hand, unable to hear it, but he only held her tighter. She cried until the front of his linen shirt was damp with her tears, and when she pushed away from him he would not let her go. "There's never been another like you," he whispered. "And never will there be. — Laura Frantz

Simon hated her for that. Perhaps it was automatic. Her appearance alone made her different from him, and human beings had always feared and hated anyone who was different. Two thousand years of history saw it being repeated over and over, the perpetual struggle of one race, or tribe, or creed, against another ... each one thinking they were right, superior, morally justified, or chosen by God. Simon saw himself as normal, Laura as abnormal. — Louise Lawrence

You shouldn't come here alone, nekanoh." Startled, she turned. Red Shirt stood behind her, his hazel eyes on her and everything else at once. Was he remembering how she'd nearly drowned? "Nekanoh?" She echoed the strange word back to him. "It means 'friend' in Shawnee." Did he say that to soothe her, in case she felt frightened alone with him? Standing on the bank beside him, she was struck by how tall he was. Why, she didn't even reach his shoulder. Even outdoors he was physically imposing, dominating the woods as well as the cabin. "I didn't hear you," she said, then flushed at her foolishness. It was his habit not to be heard. A flicker of amusement seemed to lighten his intensity. "I know. I've followed you since you left the barn. — Laura Frantz

As I told you, I'm not the settlement midwife. I've not birthed one baby." "But you are an herbalist." "I suppose I am. The woods and Ma Horn have been my teachers since I was a girl." She looked away from him, embarrassed. Here she was, considering him a quack, and he was unraveling her own lack of expertise fast as a spool of thread. "I'm finding the settlers here a superstitious lot. I dinna doubt you are much the same." She sat up straighter. "What do you mean?" "Axes under the bed tae cut the pain of childbirth. Garlic charms and spells. Boiling beaver tails tae cure snakebite. No' tae mention the misuse of useful herbs." Her own face clouded. "I do none of those things." He looked doubtful. "Prove it." "How do you expect me to do that?" His steely eyes held a challenge. "Work alongside me. — Laura Frantz

The clock is ticking. I should be leaving right now. But what I want to do is take Cicely in my arms and press her up against me hard enough to make her not care that I'm messing up her lipstick. I want to pick her up and carry her back through that doorway. We're only a few strides from the couch, only one rip away from ruining that expensive fabric, the dress she must have bought to wear for him. — Laura Bradley Rede

The flame in her was slow and deep-he was going to incite it with the fire in himself; he was going to make a blaze to burn down cities, to lay waste cathedrals and castles and plain meetinghouses-to make a world where it was only him, and only her, and this bed, and one flesh. — Laura Kinsale

willingly." "I don't believe that." Joe shrugs noncommittally. He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. "If he killed her, chances are we'll catch him. But so far, there's no physical evidence pointing in his direction. You're going to have to face the possibility that we may never know who killed her, or why, or how. A transient may have come through town, saw an opportunity, killed her and left. The killer could be in Florida or Illinois or out of the country. — Laura Reese

Easy wasn't sure how long he sat there holding her, he only knew that at some point the tremors in her body stopped, her hold loosened, and her breathing evened out. She'd fallen asleep. In his arms.
That she'd found solace in him - a man who had no solace for himself - was the sweetest fucking thing he could ever remember experiencing. And it made him feel strong in a way he hadn't in what seemed like forever. — Laura Kaye

Alexander leaned down,whispered in her ear,"If he touches you,"he said,lapping at the sensitive skin of her lobe,"I swear I will hunt him down and rip out his heart. — Laura Wright

Yes,love."He leaned down,his hands splayed on her ankles,up he raked to her knees,her inner thighs until he had her legs spread so wide her cunt wept for him."You in me and me in you.For hours,forever."

~Alexander Roman — Laura Wright

"I think," she said, tipping her head to give him better access, "that at least once in a lifetime, every girl should be pressed up against a wall and kissed stupid by a sexy man. — Marie Force

God, it was quite possible that Derek was the strongest man she'd ever known. Her gaze ran over the T-shirt that did nothing to hide the muscles of his shoulders and arms, then downward to how those blue jeans hung on his lean hips. He was definitely the sexiest man she'd ever known.
And she wanted him. — Laura Kaye

She had given up something for which she had long yearned for the mere possibility of a love, and a life, with him. With him.
Yet, she had no idea how he felt about her. How powerfully love and admiration and pure, simple awe flowed through him for her. — Laura Kaye

Once, complaining that his mother tried to do things that blind people should not attempt, like lighting candles at Christmas, he said, "My mother wants to have her blindness and eat it, too." I imagined Phil's mother spooning blindness into her own open mouth like devil's food cake. But without texture or weight. Bittersweet and rich. Another time he said, regarding his father's late support checks, that calling him in Texas wouldn't help, it would just make the checks even later. "It's a vicious circus," Phil said. When I asked if he thought that perhaps writing a letter, explaining their situation - the mortgage payment late again, the electric company calling - might help, he said, "I'm virtuously certain it wouldn't," looking martyred and older than his years. — Laura Kasischke

The heat building inside her burst into flames.Her ass clenched,her breasts tightened into sensitive buds and she felt her pussy cream right before him. — Laura Wright

Laura made a great chili. She used lean meat, dark kidney beans, carrots cut small, a bottle or so of dark beer, and freshly sliced hot peppers. She would let the chili cook for a while, then add red wine, lemon juice and a pitch of fresh dill, and, finally, measure out and add her chili powders. On more than one occasion Shadow had tried to get her to show him how she made it: he would watch everything she did, from slicing the onions and dropping them into the olive oil at the bottom of the pot. He had even written down the recipe, ingredient by ingredient, and he had once made Laura's chili for himself on a weekend when she had been out of town. It had tasted okay-it was certainly edible, but it had not been Laura's chili. — Neil Gaiman

You're different than you used to be. A few months ago you wouldn't have followed me onto this porch." The compliment, if it was that, brought tears to her eyes. "I - I'm sorry for treating you so badly. I'm ashamed now of how I snubbed you - acted afraid of you - " "It's common enough." The admission startled her - made her feel grieved and defensive and tender toward him all at once. She longed to lay a reassuring hand on his sleeve but checked herself. There was no self-pity in his manner, only truth telling, and she sensed he didn't want her sympathy, just her friendship. And her forgiveness. "A half blood belongs to no one, red or white," he said. "You belong to God," she said softly. — Laura Frantz

He started to list the coin vanishes he had mastered, which reminded him of the coin he had tossed into Laura's grave, and then, in his head, Audrey was telling him that Laura had died with Robbie's cock in her mouth, and once again he felt a small hurt in his heart. — Neil Gaiman

In the morning, he had to shake her awake. When she saw him leaning over her, shirtless, his dark hair loose and disheveled, her first feeling was one of wonder. She'd dreamed she was asleep atop her feather tick, not the hard ground, and certainly not with a husband. "You're beautiful awake," he said with a knowing smile. "But you're even more beautiful asleep. — Laura Frantz

I know it's hard when other children are called home but we can find purpose and good in all things when we can see things from the Lord's perspective. There is goodness to be found and lives are still touched and changed for the good when little ones go home to Heavenly Father. My sister was 7 when she returned to him. Her passing gave me the strength to be who I am today. Every experience we have had in our lives has made us the strong women we are today.
The Lord is strengthening those families as they pass through these trials just as He does us. — Laura Lane

His demanding tongue tasted so damn good, and his piercing bit deliciously against her lip from the aggressive way he pursued her over and over. His hands tugged and massaged at her hair and neck. He just surrounded her. The difference in their height made Caden lean down over her. The way he forced her head back commanded her to open up to him. With the metal handle of the door pressing into her back, she felt completely enveloped in him, in his ardor, his scent. The world dropped away. There was just Caden. — Laura Kaye

Laura looked up at him with dead blue eyes.
I want to be alive again," she said. "Not in this half-life. I want to be really alive. I want to feel my heart pumping in my chest again. I want to feel blood moving through me - hot, and salty, and real. It's weird, you don't think you can feel it, the blood, but believe me, when it stops flowing, you'll know."
She rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with red from the mess on her hands.
Look, it's hard. You know why dead people only go out at night, puppy? Because it's easier to pass for real, in the dark. And I don't want to have to pass. I want to be alive. — Neil Gaiman

Hey, Megan?"
She peeked one lid open. "Hmm?"
"Can we have ice cream for breakfast?"
Her mouth curved into a grin. She couldn't think of anyone, save maybe Kate, who could draw a smile from her so quickly. But he was just unexpectedly adorable. "Maybe. If you're a good boy." She cringed. Why the hell did she say that? Was she ... flirting with him? Restraining a grimace, she chanced a look at him.
His dark gaze shifted from playful to scorching. "And what would that entail?"
Heat shot through her body, and unfamiliar desire pooled in her belly. Flustered, she kicked off the top cover. "Not asking questions like that, to start. Now go back to sleep. It's too damn early to be awake."
She heaved a deep breath to calm her racing heart .
"if you say so." Even with his eyes closed, a smile continued to play around his lips. — Laura Kaye

A ripple of amusement passed through the gathering. Cass held out his hand and Roxanna held her breath. Would he even charm a mute child? Pensive, Abby studied him before extending her own small hand. He took it, and the music began again, but not before he'd stood her little feet atop his polished boots. Around and around he danced with her, holding on to her hands, her feet firmly planted atop his own. — Laura Frantz

His groan was laced with both pain and pleasure.But that was okay.It was as it was supposed to be.Her eyes filled with tears."I will never keep myself from you.I will never discard your love like trash."Her voice caught with emotion."And I will never starve you."
Alexander's eyes glittered with feelings."I can't ... "
"You can.You have to."She tipped up her chin and kissed him,soft and loving and hungry,her tongue slipping inti his mouth,playing with teeth,the tips of his fangs. — Laura Wright

I had heard this dog barking over the music earlier, but this was the first time I had seen him. He was a giant, brown Great Dane who was either annoyed or excited by everything that was going on. He made a beeline for the girls who had just stepped back onto the sidewalk. Ruby was the first of them to spot him coming at them and began to scream and run backwards. The rest of the group froze in place. The dog was barking like crazy as it charged at them. He circled Ruby once and then pounced on her. Ruby screamed and swatted at the dog with her bucket and then took off down the sidewalk.
"Ruby!" I screamed, "Don't run!"

- The Stable House — Laura Smith

As he observed her in musing silence, a novel thought occurred to him. It slipped through his mind so subtly that it seemed to mingle like smoke with his physical perceptions, with the way the dim light through the stained-glass window fell across her hair in little iridescent rainbows, and the scent of old tobacco and dust lingered in the room. He wondered - absurdly - if this was what she had come for - simply to sit in the stillness and be alive and share it with him.
Something inside, something tiny he hadn't even known was there, seemed to unfold, to spread tentative petals open like a desert flower sensing rain.
She turned and looked up at him, her great unblinking eyes full of forest wisdom. He thought foolishly: Let me stay here. I need this. — Laura Kinsale

Know your lover and what delights him or her, but also what he/she considers inappropriate. After all, you want to whet their appetite and create excitement, rather than make them upset. — Laura Ramirez

And she does not feel jilted, even one year on. Ben was weak or, fatal combination, weak and good. Jilting implied, if not malice, then aforethought and he was considerate to a fault and not a planner. As he had confessed all those months ago he was not the powerful one in his marriage, not when Chloe was near enough to influence him.
As the weeks wore on laura realised
that whatever offstage battle had taken place, she had lost. Chloe might not love him more, but her love it seemed, had proved the most tenacious. And, who knew, perhaps she had surprised them both with her strength of feeling. Perhaps it had taken such a crisis for him finally to fall in love with her and he had woken to the novel wonder of her as a man returning from a fever would be astounded at the mundane pleasure of grapes or daisies. — Patrick Gale

He dropped his arms on the bed and peered over at Jenna.
She lay on her side facing him, hand tucked under her chin, not looking the least bit settled or relaxed.
"Whatchu need?"
"You." She spoke the word without and hesitation, any doubt, any seeming self-consciousness. — Laura Kaye

She was around two. She and Laura went down in a shipwreck. I heard Henry didn't eat or sleep for days. He searched for them for weeks, but there was never any sign of them. There were no survivors." "How sad," she whispered. He touched her chin and turned her liquid eyes toward him. "Don't cry. It happened a long time ago. I'm sure Henry is over it all by now." "Love like that never dies." He smiled. "Such romanticism. No wonder you read poetry." "Does he ever talk about them?" He released her chin and shook his head. "Clara would be in tears if he did. The servants tell how he raved like a madman when he heard the news. Molly said she'd never heard a grown man cry like that. — Colleen Coble

Even through all of this, sometimes I wanted to lift up her chin and say, "Don't you see that is your dog?" Don't you see how we didn't want to have to love you, Laura? Don't you see how you have to love things forever anyway, no matter if it shakes, or drools, or barks in the middle of the night, or throws up food, or dies, because even in death, he is still your dog? You picked him out of a group and said, that is my dog, and the dog you picked shakes and drools and barks in the middle of the night, but you named him. And for that reason you should never want to give him up, you should always be grateful since your dog is one of the few things in life that you actually can choose as your own. — Alison Espach

The flowers were opulent, full-blown, topple shower petals at a touch. He thought that she might topple that way, falling all at once into his hand, a soft drift of blossom between his fingers. The roses bowed their extravagant heads, nodding, but she was all stiff prim and black, back in her bonnet, so that he could not see her face unless she looked directly at him. — Laura Kinsale

What second love could she [Olympias] make out of her ruined first love? The second love that most women make out of their first love for husbands grows from a mutual and tacit sadness in both husband and wife that he is only in rare moments the man both would like him to be. — Laura Riding

I love you," she whispered against his chest.
He hugged her tighter, and then drew in a deep breath. "And Iiiiiiiiiii-ee-iiii will always love yoooooooou," he sang, or rather butchered, the old Whitney Houston song.
Impossibly, Emilie burst out laughing. "Oh, God, that's horrible Derek." She pushed out of his arms, grasped one of the pillows from the edge of the bed, and planted it over his head. He continued to warble from under the cotton, and Emilie couldn't stop laughing.
Their playfulness quickly escalated into a pillow fight, and then a wrestling match, and of course she ended up underneath him.
Win-win in her book. — Laura Kaye

He felt certain that if she'd have let him, he could have levitated with her in his arms and they could have made love on the ceiling. He could have unzipped his body and wrapped her in his skin. He could have buried himself in her neck and slipped into the place between her shoulder and her throat, and been soldered by passion to her forever. — Laura Kasischke

Laura shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face. "Even Nick won't try to convince Mama! I refuse to talk to him." I shook my head, trying to shut my trunk. Overloaded, it wouldn't close.

"Don't do that - he's your brother."

"And I hate him. I hate everyone! I just want to run away from home . . . or set it on fire. Or set Miss Verinder's house on fire! Oooh, we should do that, Evelyn! — Tarun Shanker

The only upside to that ice-cold bath was that Ike has gotten wet and tossed his shirt, and Jess thought she might be willing to be sick more often if it meant getting to see him shirtless. Because, holy bad-ass tattooed biker on a stick, he was so freaking hot. Cut muscles, ink everywhere, two insanely delicious indents low on his waist. And scars Jess has no idea how Ike had gotten.
All that goodness and Jess couldn't even see the big Ravens tat that she knew covered Ike's broad back. But she'd seen it before, back at Hard Ink when Jeremy occasionally did a new piece for Ike. She'd seen it enough to know that she'd love to have a good reason to dig her fingers into that tat ... — Laura Kaye

When the nurse leaves, Doctor Rose mouths, "Act like you're in pain." Then she mimics a painful expression in case Summer doesn't understand. On the contrary, Summer's an expert at interpreting body language and reading lips. It's all thanks to her observant nature while enslaved on the Cosmos. Who else could tell that Peter's discomfort is due to him wearing the same pair of underwear for a week straight? Ah, yes, she always knew when day six and seven approached. She watched the crew member with much amusement as he waddled, pulled wedgies, and scratched his bum relentlessly. Not that anyone else cared to know that little nugget of information. — Laura Kreitzer

It wasn't every day a witch came to see him.
Darius deCompostela gave up on the paperwork he'd been trying to fill out and leaned back in his chair. Semantics. Technically, Georgia Clare hadn't come to see him. She'd come to see MacMillian. Most people did, often with barely a sideways glance in his direction. Usually, that chafed.
Not this time. For one thing, her reluctance to speak with him didn't seem to have anything to do with, well, him.
For another thing, he didn't do witches. — Laura Oliva

Javier opened her makeup kit, held it edge to edge with the dressing table, and swept everything
every vial, brush, tube, and bottle
into the kit with his forearm.
Laura gaped at him. "That stuff is worth hundreds of dollars."
He shrugged, then shut the kit. "That's how SEALs pack makeup. — Pamela Clare

Sara lay back on the cold rock floor and beckoned for him."I'll stay in here until you're starving," she said passionately,"until you understand you can trust me,that I give to you unconditionally,out of the purest love.I'll stay here until this cage becomes a place of peace,of pleasure-not torment."Her eyebrow lifted."I will stay in here until you can't resist me. — Laura Wright

My giving story started with my parents - my late mother, Frances Arrillaga, who dedicated her life to philanthropic and community service, and my father, John Arrillaga, whose daily generosity of heart, mind, and hands-on contributions make him one of the most extraordinary philanthropists I know. — Laura Arrillaga-Andreessen

She had to lift both hands to illustrate what she meant, but he just let her carry his hand with her, not about to let go. She pushed the free hand toward the one he held, apparently trying to gesture closeness. "Warm," she said again. And then she did something that undid him to the last faint whisper of his soul: she gave his hand a squeeze with fingertips that could just barely reach around his, apparently using him to indicate what she wanted to say. He meant warmth. He meant this word she couldn't find. — Laura Florand

In the hearts of fans everywhere, his protectiveness is where his true appeal lies. Edward feels both pleasure and pain in Bella's company: his heart cries out for her love while his need for her blood, the scent of which intoxicates him, and he must fight the urge to kill her to savor it. His agony would end if he were to fulfill her request to turn her into a vampire, but he refuses. He fears it would mean giving up her soul, and he has made it his mission to safeguard her, body and soul. Even when it seems he is bound by a promise to make her a vampire, he will only do it if she marries him, sanctifying the act in his mind.
This magnificent creature, who could have one of his on glorious kind, chooses plain, mortal Bella; puts her on a pedestal; and is willing to protect and honor her. What woman could ask for more? — Laura Enright

Her mum is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, when Summer exits. "Gage left from here a few minutes ago," she says, tone neutral. "His hair was ruffled." She gestures with her hand above her head.
The haze Gage left Summer in vanishes. She frowns.
Her mum sighs and steps forward. Smooths her daughter's hair. "If he hurts you," she says in a mild tone, "I'll kill him. — Laura Kreitzer

Zenia," he said, "I'm not good at it - tea and cakes. I have no patience with it."
She looked directly at him. "I suppose you would prefer to eat on the ground with your fingers?" Her dry remark seemed to take him aback. He looked at her with a faint frown. "Shall I sprinkle some sand on the butter," she asked, "to put you more at ease?"
He tilted up one corner of his mouth. "No." He lifted his cup, extending his little finger with an exaggerated delicacy. "I can play, if I must. How does your dear aunt do, Lady Winter? I hear she has the vapors once an hour. I have a receipt for a rhubarb plaster - most efficacious! Of course, if you prefer a more permanent cure, nothing can surpass a fatal dose of arsenic. — Laura Kinsale

David held up his hands. "Hold it. This is going nowhere. You two are both afraid, and being afraid makes you angry, and being angry makes you lash out."
"Thank you, Dr. Laura," I said snippily.
"I'm not afraid of her," Hunter said, like a six-year-old, and I wanted to kick him under the table. Now that I knew he was actually alive, I remembered just how unpleasant he was. — Cate Tiernan

Louie's mother, Louise, took a different tack. Louie was a copy of herself, right down to the vivid blue eyes. When pushed, she shoved; sold a bad cut of meat, she'd march down to the butcher, frying pan in hand. Loving mischief, she spread icing over a cardboard box and presented it as a birthday cake to a neighbor, who promptly got the knife stuck. When Pete told her he'd drink his castor oil if she gave him an empty candy box. "You only asked for the box, honey," she said with a smile. "That's all I got." And she understood Louie's restiveness. One Halloween, she dressed as a boy and raced around town trick-or-treating with Louie and Pete. A gang of kids, thinking she was one of the local toughs, tackled her and tried to steal her pants. Little Louise Zamperini, mother of four, was deep in the melee when the cops picked her up for brawling. — Laura Hillenbrand

Laura had warned him not to expect much. It was a good thing. "Have you and Kate been smoking grass in here?"
"That's all she ever does on her lunch hour.We really have to get her into a program." Thrilled with herself, Margo spread her arms. "So,what do you think?"
"Uh-huh.It's a building, all right."
"Josh."
"Give me a minute." He walked past her into the adjoining room, came back, looked into the bath, gazed up the pretty, and potentially lethal, staircase. He wiggled the banister, winced. "Want a lawyer? — Nora Roberts

He was stunning,incredible,unlike anything she had ever seen before.Around her,the crowd noise dissipated to a dull hum,but she barely noticed.Her gaze was slowly traveling the length of him,taking in his predatory stance and powerful muscle and tanned skin. — Laura Wright

I want to see your stockings," he growled. "The plain white ones."
Her lips parted, as if to make a refusal, and then she blinked. Her puzzled look only made her more adorable to him.
"Yes, I was driven demented in your closet." He bent down to kiss her. "I'm passionately in love with your hosiery. — Laura Kinsale

My mother plants her hands on her hips, peevish. "Is that the best welcome you can come up with? Why don't you come over here and give your father a hug?" Hug him? Touch him? How can she even suggest it? — Laura Wiess

And it was like being torn apart and put back together, all at once. He hated her pain, but he adored that she wasn't hiding herself from him, and that she was letting him be there for her. — Laura Kaye

Pale eyes, and a pointy nose. A gingham bonnet covered her hair. "Hello," she said to Cora. Both the man and the woman crouched low, their faces level with hers. Cora could not cough or pretend to be slow: one of the agents was right there, watching. The man asked her name, and she told him. He asked her age, and she said she didn't know, but that she'd just lost her first tooth. Both the man and the woman laughed as if Cora had said something terribly funny, as if she were one of the children singing the Jesus song, trying hard to be cute. She gave them a hard look, but they continued to smile. The man looked at the woman. The — Laura Moriarty

Woman is the symbol to man of the uncleanness of bodily existence, of which he purifies himself by putting her to noble uses. She thus has for him a double, contradictory significance; she is the subject of his bawdry and the subject of his romance. — Laura Riding

Good with languages," she murmured. With everything she learned about him, he got more and more interesting. Or more mysterious, depending on how you looked at it. "So, good with languages, shovels, and igloos. Anything else?"

The smug look he tossed at her was so wicked it shivered right down her spine. Walked right into that, hadn't she. She shook her head and, looking away to hide her blush, moved her cardboard forward one spot. Without a doubt, he would be good at...other stuff. Jesus. — Laura Kaye

As he plods behind Cameron and Summer, he can't help but stare at Summer's exposed, glistening skin. His thoughts aren't depraved or even mildly in the splasher. In fact, he focuses on the marks of cruelty crisscrossing her back, stomach, and shoulders. He trudges along, drenched, feet swollen, constantly searching for even a hint of a breeze, all while being forced to stare at the alarming network of burns traversing Summer's delicate skin. This latticework of hate reveals a brutal truth - one he can scarcely comprehend. Yes, he's glimpsed and felt her scars before, but this is the first time he's really, truly seen the severity and extent of her life as a slave. With each step, he must digest the monstrosities of her past, leaving him utterly devastated. — Laura Kreitzer

He holds her for an eternity. Time cascades into the void of the past. She inhales his scent. Full of man and strength and yearning. And she wonders why she ever doubted their relationship. Why she let Julian's soothing touch coax her into loving him too. Gage is everything. Gage is hers. — Laura Kreitzer

Jules lips quivered, and I feared she was about to cry. Then she asked, "He bit off more than he could chew, didn't he?" She made a motion as if she was biting into a tough piece of steak.
Gabriella's lips sealed shut as she tried to hide her grin, though she failed at it when Andrew asked, "Was he eating?" He turned desperately to Gabriella, confused.
Jules wasn't about to cry, she was trying not to laugh! She giggled then, the sound tinkling and odd in the outlandish setting.
Andrew straightened and shook his head at Gabriella. "Did you see him eat? — Laura Kreitzer

His tender tone turned her heart over. She obliged, tilting her head back slightly and looking up at him in the firelit darkness. When he bent his head and his mouth met hers, she gave a little sigh, her lips parting slightly in surprise and expectation. He kissed her with the same sure decisiveness with which he did everything else, his mouth trailing to her cheek and chin and ear, returning again and again to her mouth and lingering there, his breath mingling with her own.
She felt adrift in small, sharp bursts of pleasure. Was this how a man was suppose to kiss a woman? Tenderly ... firmly ... repeatedly? His fingers fanned through her hair till the pins gave way and wayward locks spilled like black ribbon to the small of her back. In answer, her arms circled his neck, bringing him nearer, every kiss sweeter and surer than the one before. Soon they were lost in a haze of sighs and murmurs and caresses. — Laura Frantz

Tears glinted in her eyes. "I want no secrets between us, Silas."
"No secrets," he echoed, his mouth near the gentle curve of her ear. "Then you should know I can hardly breathe for thinking of you. You're the most maddening lass I've ever known, and every day without you near is an agony to me." Taking her face between his hands, he moved to kiss her, but the sound of approaching horses gave him pause. — Laura Frantz

I have never thought you weren't good enough for me. The fear I always had, deep down in my heart, is that I'm not good enough for you."
Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the room but he didn't seem to notice.
"You see, I was never the one who could make you laugh." He glanced at Lawrence, then back at her.
"I was never the one who made coronets of rosebuds for your hair and told you that you were pretty."
He swallowed hard, and his chin lifted a notch, telling her as clearly as any word how difficult it was for him to reveal himself this way.
"I always wanted to say those things, do those things, but I couldn't, for a gentleman is not supposed to behave that way. A gentleman is not supposed to fall in love with the chef's daughter. But right now, today, I don't give a damn what gentlemen do. I'm just a man, and the only thing I care about is you. — Laura Lee Guhrke

That's stupid," Luke says sharply, totally out of character, and shoots Laura a look that makes her flush red. "First of all, she's not ugly-pretty, she's just normal pretty. What a dumb thing to say. And second, she's different from the average girl 'cause she doesn't even need makeup."
Silence. Luke looks down at his arm and twirls the leather strap around his wrist. I nudge him, and when he looks up at me, I mouth Thank you, not trusting my voice since an unexpected lump has found its way to my throat. — Alecia Whitaker

He tilted her face upward as if he meant to kiss her. Shocked, Maria resisted, glancing toward the people at the table, some of them are smiling, some disapproving, some thoroughly appalled.
She looked back at him, doubtful.
"Does a gentleman kiss a woman in front of other people?"
He tilted her head back.
"This one does," he said and captured her lips with his. — Laura Lee Guhrke

A glacial chill rushes through Gage. He whips around just in time to see arms clutch Summer around the middle and drag her into the dark. Panic seizes him, and he takes off after her, regardless of the chaos brewing behind him. Her cry of surprise echoes all around them, drilling into his bones. — Laura Kreitzer

She feels him scoot closer, the heat of him radiating off his chest and absorbing into her skin. His legs straddle her from behind, and he places delicate kisses along her shoulder, her back, the very center of her spine. Each time is like an electric current surging through her, soul stirring and lovely. — Laura Kreitzer

For some reason, he didn't want her to look back at him with rejection or reciprocal challenge. He definitely didn't want her to look at him as if she was mentally gauging her ability to kill him to defend herself. He wanted her to look at him like she looked at his chocolate, as if she was absorbing strength and happiness. And was in no hurry to leave it. It turned his heart all funny to think of being — Laura Florand

Colton Brooks kissed in an all-consuming way that stole her breath, demanded her surrender, and blocked everything else until the only thing she saw or heard or felt or knew was his lips, his tongue, his hands, his body.
Him. — Laura Kaye

Captain Jack said he'd take some of you if he couldn't have all of you," he said, the mirth in his eyes making light of her ire. "And you let him?" "Seems a small price to pay to keep you." "When? How?" she sputtered. "Near dawn, with his scalping knife." "While I slept? — Laura Frantz

You're in love with me? Why have you never said anything?" He demanded.

"No one wants to tell someone she loves him, and have him not say it back," her eyes dropped and she said it so softly he had to strain to hear it. — Laura Hunsaker

Oh, God, I'm sorry, she said. She'd just tackle-hugged a freaking god, and now he wouldn't let her go. Despite the fact that she'd apparently committed a major faux pas, Devlin's body felt damn good. All hard, lean muscle up against her. Power and strength evident in the fact that he held most od her body weight in the grip of one arm. And, geez, he smelled fantastic, like the cool earthy spice of a beautiful fall day. She had to resist pressing her nose to his throat and drinking him in. — Laura Kaye

But there's another reason you can't go. You still haven't told me about your trip to Tennessee." A sudden spark seemed to light his keen eyes. "I wanted to tell you, but you didn't come, even when I gave you back your bed." She looked up, full of wonder. "You wanted me to come upstairs?" "You know I wouldn't hurt you ... dishonor you." "I - I know you wouldn't ... but ... being alone with you ... like that ... " She faltered and looked away, a furious blush staining her face. "It's not the proper way," he finished for her. She merely nodded, trying to start sewing again, but instead making a knot of her thread. He said quietly, "Sometimes I think you're still afraid of me." She looked up at him again and wished she hadn't. His eyes held hers with a startling intensity, as if daring her to deny it. She got up abruptly, nearly spilling her sewing onto the floor. "I made some broth," she said. "You'll need to regain your strength. And I'll have to see to your shoulder. — Laura Frantz

The door closed behind her, and Ed just stood there - unable to connect with the present reality. It was as though he had been zapped by a stun gun of words, and the effect had made him momentarily immobile. A few minutes passed, and he broke free from the paralyzing shock. He walked into the bedroom that he and Laura had once shared. Now, like him, it was missing her presence. Pictures had been taken off of the dresser, the scented candles were gone, and her pillow was not on the bed. He walked over to the closet, opened it up, and found that her clothes, and shoes were also gone. He looked around the half empty room, and found himself venturing into a tormenting cycle of confusion. A livid syrup had just been poured out onto a panicked waffle that had been setting on a perturbed plate for several daunting months, and Ed suddenly found himself acquiring an unhealthy appetite for destruction. Tears began to fall down his face, and an inward storm began to rage. — Calvin W. Allison

Shuffled footsteps caught her attention. "Hey," Owen said. She took in the sight of him, dressed in a new borrowed outfit - a long sleeved navy T-shirt and a pair of khakis that had been too long for John. The shirt highlighted the difference in his eyes.
Well, okay, there was the reason she hadn't been thinking about the real world. — Laura Kaye

NO way was she crying in front of Ike. He already treated her like an overprotective big brother as it was. And that was really freaking annoying because it meant her fantasy of climbing him like a tree and having her wily way with him weren't ever coming true. Unrequited lust sucked big hairy donkey balls. — Laura Kaye

He felt her draw a little shuddering breath, and then a wet tumble of water on her cheek. She whispered, "God forgive, Jervaulx - that I sh'dovethee."

That I should love thee.
It broke the spell that held him. Had she said that? He pushed back, gazing at her. — Laura Kinsale

He begins to sing to her, very softly, almost not singing at all, just a whisper of a tune. He spins out the tune like it is a tale he is telling her, until he feels her body relax, until he feels her falling into sleep. He sings to let her know he's there, to stay anchored to the earth, to keep from laughing or crying in amazement that he is lying with Alice in his arms, he sings as if music could keep her alive, as if music could feed her soul, as if music could weave a protective spell around her to survive these days and these weeks and these months and these years, he sings as if he could give her a piece of himself, which will ring inside of her like a bell, like a promise, like hope whenever she needs him; and in his singing, he promises her every single thing he can think of, and more. — Laura Harrington

Abruptly, she let go of his wrists and allowed him to push her to her knees. She looked up, waited for his smile.
And then she punched him in the nuts. — Laura Ruby

He let go of the rope one hand at a time and latched onto Lisa's hands. Her fingernails dug into his wrists, but her grip was strong after a summer of lifting girls into the air. It was a tug of war battle between his friends and Shawn's ghost. The wind died down as Shawn gathered all of his energy to pull on Mike. Even though he was terrified of what was happening, Mike knew that Shawn wasn't trying to hurt him. After all these years, he was still trying to find a way out. Shawn wanted to go home too, and he saw the hope of being rescued falling away.
"Shawn! Please! Let me go!" Mike called over the dying wind, "I'll get you help! We'll get you out! Just please! Let me go!"

- Saving Hascal's Horrors — Laura Smith

And out in the rural, when Mrs. Laura McGhee--who if she thought it necessary, sat on the porch with her Winchester rifle--permitted movement workers to use her farm outside Greenwood for a rally, the sheriff came to warn her against holding it. She told him that *he* was on *her* property, that *he* was trespassing and hadn't ever offered any protection from the terrorists who kept threatening to shoot up her farms, and that he therefore had nothing to offer her now and had better leave, get off her land. And the sheriff left. — Charles E. Cobb Jr.

Ward, do you think we'll have time to ride this afternoon? I'd love to go over some of the old trails with you," Erica asked, smiling at him over the assortment of pastries and wedding cake in the lodge's dining room.
Ward fought the urge to growl his reply that he had an even better idea. He'd love to stuff her into Ralph Cummins's taxi, slam the door, and instruct Ralph to hit the gas and not slow down until he reached Palo Alto, where Erica was currently living. Once the taxi was out of sight, he'd go down to the bottom of the road to Silver Creek Ranch and lock the gates. With a padlock.
Instead, he shoveled in a forkful of the wedding cake Roo had baked and pretended not to hear. He'd been doing a lot of that. — Laura Moore

She gave him a dubious look, as if he wasn't quite right in the head. "Sometimes, Englishman, I do not
understand you. I love you, but I do not always understand you."
She turned and started across the meadow. He remained where he was and watched her walk away,
with her skirts in her hand and the sun on her hair.
"I love you, too," he said, but only after she was too far away to hear. "I always have. — Laura Lee Guhrke

He turned back to her. "And may I have the pleasure of the first dance, Miss Rowan?" She gave him a slightly wide-eyed stare, while his eyes narrowed and crinkled at the corners, full of mischief. Mercy . . . he does work quite a spell. — Laura Frantz

I'm going out with him again tomorrow night," Emilie said after they'd finished eating. "He lives up in Baltimore, so we're going to meet after I'm done at the clinic."
"What are your wearing?" Kelly asked, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
"Just ... " She shrugged and looked down at the white cardigan she wore over a pair of basic black slacks. "Work clothes".
Kelly's eyes went wide. "Oh, no. No, no. Hottie McHotterson deserves more than work clothes. Hottie deserves a little black dress or a pair of fuck-hot jeans and a slinky little top. And heel - sexy, tall heels." She arched an eyebrow. — Laura Kaye

So I leave proof of my existence behind me like a snail trail with the small hope that years of talking at me will someday soften her enough to talk with me, that she'll finally pull the knife from my chest and say yes, we are better off without him. That what happened wasn't my fault and from now on she will thrust herself between me and danger, and shout NO. — Laura Wiess

Sans clothing, Owen climbed over her and settled into the middle of the mattress. Like he was a magnet - or her North Star - Megan's body turned to press into the nook along the side of his tall frame. His bareness managed to be soft and hard at the same time - the skin soft and smooth, the muscles hard and ridged. She inhaled deeply, taking his crisp, clean scent into her, and let out a long exhale that relaxed her into him further. Now. Now she could be content to never move again. — Laura Kaye

Her thoughts pulsated through him, frantic, desperate, pleading for him to stay behind.
"I won't - can't," he murmured. "If you're going, so am I."
She exhaled a laborious sigh and flung her arms around his neck; her warm breath fanned over his skin as she tightened her grip. "If you die, Andrew, I'll track you across multiple dimensions just to say I warned you," she cautioned, voice tender. — Laura Kreitzer

Laura's problem was that she kept casting men in roles they weren't suited for. Like lovely Josh, casting him in the role of decent, kind house-husband, the perfect partner, the modern male, when - what was it that she'd actually loved about him, really? Laura tried to think, and couldn't come up with an answer. He was a great man - kind, funny, clever, hard working - but there was no way he was the man for her, she realised now. Why hadn't she seen it? — Harriet Evans

Hester kept her company by bringing her meals and tea, fussing over Rosebud, washing Morrow's clothes, and doing her hair as if she was the colonel's lady. "Colonel Clark is sure taken wi' you," she said. "Neither man nor beast ever talks back to that man, but you shore put him in his place over that bad business at Fort Randolph. And lo and behold, I think he liked it. But for one little thing." Morrow looked up from nursing Rosebud. "He just can't figure out why a beautiful woman like yo'self would settle for a savage. — Laura Frantz

Jess pushed herself up to sit next to him. "In case you didn't get the memo, it' s my turn to take care of you right now." Ike dropped his face into his hands on a groan, and Jess's cool hand massages his neck. "Oh, my God. You're so hot."
He chuffed out a small laugh. "Why, thank you."
Jess Chuckled. "You realize you don't have to fish for compliments, right? Not from me. Because I will straight-up tell you that the sight of your Ravens tat stretched over all these muscles gives me a lady boner." Her fingers traced the design across his shoulder blades - a spread-winged raven perches on the hilt of a dagger sunk into the eye socket of a skull. The block letters of the club's name arched over the menacing black bird.
He threw her some major side-eye. "I know I'm sick because the perverted part of my brain just heard you say my ink gives you a lady boner. — Laura Kaye

He sat down on the bed and gathered her up in his arms as if she were a child. Like Abby, she thought woozily. Like Papa had with her so long ago. Weak, she succumbed to the heady scent of him, gave in to the unfamiliar feel of his arms and solidness of his chest as he cradled her. — Laura Frantz