I Still Want Him Quotes & Sayings

Maybe I could love you someday."
If you ever do," he said, "come and let me know. You know where to find me."
Her teeth were chattering harder. "I can't lose you, Simon. I can't."
You never will. I'm not leaving you. But I'd rather have what we have, which is real and true and important, than have you pretend anything else. When I'm with you, I want to know I'm with the real you, the real Clary."
She leaned her head against his, closing her eyes. He still felt like Simon, despite everything; still smelled like him, like his laundry soap. "Maybe I don't know who that is."
But I do. — Cassandra Clare

I have this clutter of questions all churned together in my mind and they won't stop churning. I've found out too much and not enough. there are too many pieces that could go together too many ways and I can't stop shifting them around. There has to be some way it all makes sense and it doesn't yet."
"You're asking a lot of life if you want it to make sense."
Most of the time, Joliffe was of the same opinion, but he shook his head against it now like against a fly's buzz and said nothing, frowning at the pen he was still twirling.
Basset watched him a moment, then said,
"Well, if you can't let it go, go at it as if you were trying to make a story of all these pieces you have. Shift them around and fill the gaps until they make the sense you want. — Margaret Frazer

You never did ... anything else with Ren?"
I knew he wasn't talking about me painting him and stuff. "Why would I want him when I got you?" And then I got worried, 'cause I wasn't sure if I still had Larry or not. — J.L. Merrow

He is power. Man. And strength. He is charm and desire and indestructible things.
I want to emit an equivalent passion. I want to be strength and desire. But I'm not sure how to match him and still move. It's easy to be confident in the face of average-standing competition. It's hard to pretend you're something greater in the face of someone who's already beyond great. — Krista Ritchie

He was a stranger, an alien creature, impossible to reach or understand. And still she wanted to try. "Tell me what you need."
"This," he whispered, watching her lips move against his palm. "Just this." He rose over her, pinning her against the cushions, and stroked her hair with a tenderness that seemed misplaced among the sultry sensations it awakened in her.
"Do your clients pleasure you?" she asked hoarsely, her head tilting and following his fingers as they massaged her neck.
"If that's what they want. You pleasure me, Billie. The sight of you. The sound of your voice. I want to hear it all sorts of ways. Laughing. Whispering. Moaning. Crying out." He caught her mouth in a lush, hungry kiss, and there was nothing sweet or grateful about it this time. Erotic delight arrowed through her with each sleek thrust of his tongue between her lips, a sultry promise of what he would do to her if she let him. — Shelby Reed

He's gawking at me when I open the door.
"Damn girl," he says, looking me over, "what the hell are you trying to do to me?"
I look down at myself, still trying to wake up the rest of the way and realize I'm in those tiny cotton white shorts and varsity tee with no bra on underneath. Oh my God, my nipples are like beacons shining through my shirt! I cross my arms over my chest and try not to look at him i the eyes when he helps himself the rest of the way inside.
"I was going to tell you to get dressed," he goes on, grinning as he walks into the room carrying his bags and the guitar, "but really, you can go just like that if you want."
I shake my head, hiding the smile creeping up on my face. — J.A. Redmerski

I tend to play characters that I can infuse with certain kinds of humour. Even the baddest guy can be funny in his own particular way. I want the audience to engage with the character on some deeper level so that they leave the cinema still thinking about him. — Samuel L. Jackson

He moves closer and leans down so I will look at him. And I feel sick, literally nauseated by the smell of bourbon on his breath. And yet I still want to fold myself up and put my entire body in his arms. I am loving him and hating him at the same time. — Kathryn Stockett

He holds my gaze, and the look in his eyes is a love letter in itself. When he speaks, his voice is rough. "Will you marry me, Cate?"
I go still, the question hanging in the air. I have never felt more accepted 'for the girl I am, not the girl I want to be' never more loved and respected than I am in this moment. It's a choice, and it's mine to make.
"Yes," I breathe.
Finn slides the simple gold band onto my ring finger. I tilt it, and the ruby sparkles, catching the sunlight. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, sealing the promise. 'I can't wait to make you my wife.'
'Cate Belastra.' I try it out and despite the solemnity of the moment, despite knowing what this will cost him, I can't help smiling. — Jessica Spotswood

I know positively - yes Rieux I can say I know the world inside out as no one on earth is free from it. And I know too that we must keep endless watch on ourselves lest in careless moment we breathe in somebody's face and fasten the infection on him. What's natural is the microbe. All the rest- health integrity purity if you like - is a product of the human will of vigilance that must never falter. The good man the man who infects hardly anyone is the man who has the fewest lapses of attention. And it needs tremendous will-power a never ending tension of the mind to avoid such lapses. Yes Rieux it's a wearying business being plague-stricken. But it's still more wearying to refuse to be it. That's why everybody in the world today looks so tired everyone is more or less sick of plague. But that is also why some of us who want to get the plague out of their systems feel such desperate weariness a weariness from which nothing remains to set us free except death. — Albert Camus

She loved attention. It was like a glass of the best champagne - bubbly and intoxicating - and as with champagne, she always wanted more of it. Still, she didn't want to seem like an easy mark.
"If you must know, I've come to join a convent," Evie said, testing him. — Libba Bray

I leaned in to give him a hug and he stopped me with his hand to my forehead.
"You don't want to do that, son."
I stepped back and gave him a sympathetic look.
"Nam, huh? Still hard for you to get close to people?" I asked.
"No. I'm still not sure you aren't gay and if you try to play grab-ass, it's gonna get real awkward when
I have to snap your fingers in two. — Tara Sivec

What I want to tell you is what I think he would tell you if he could.
Living means taking chances. Risks. Playing it safe all the time is being dead inside, even if you happen to still be breathing. people expected Connor to play it safe all the time. And when he did, he felt dead inside. I saw him take risks, and then he was the most alive person I've ever known. he would ask you to take chances. Sometimes that means getting hurt. Getting an F. Losing a game. Losing someone you love. But if you always play it safe, you lose anyway. — Ellen Hopkins

I want you to trust me," Gabe whispered against her lips.

Lauren closed her eyes and fought the urge to kiss him. "I still don't."

Gabe laughed. "Yeah, you do. You might not want to, but you do. — Kishan Paul

I don't want any money."
I put the wallet away.
She said: "What are you going to do about last night?"
"What should I do?"
"Kill that son of a bitch."
"And fry?"
"You're too smart to fry."
"Maybe," I said. "But, lady, I've been drawing the line at murder lately."
She lay against the pillow, watching me. Her skin was dead white and it made the black eyes look big. She wasn't young, but she was still good-looking. Her shoulders were round and firm. As far as I could tell she was naked under the sheet. I sat down on a rocking-chair. It creaked under my weight.
"But you want to get him, don't you?" she asked.
"I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," she said.
"He's pretty tough for a gal to tackle."
"He knocked out my teeth."
The way she said it, it sounded like a good reason for bumping off a man. Maybe it was, at that. A girl likes to hold on to her teeth. — Jonathan Latimer

...And indeed it did take me a long time for me to find someone I wanted to marry. But I'm so glad I waited. What I know about Pete and me is that the flame will never go out. I do not look up from tossing the salad and think, Oh, God, how the hell did I ever get here? I do not look a the back of his head and think, I don't know you at all. I wake up with my pal, and go to sleep with my lover. He still thrills me, not only sexually but because of the way he regards the life that unfolds around him. I am interested in what he says about me and the children and our respective jobs, but I am also interested in what he says about the Middle East and the migratory patterns of monarchs and the amount of nutmeg that should be grated into the mashed potatoes and the impact that being a thwarted artist had on the life of Hitler. I believe he is a truly honest and awake and kind individual. If we live more than once, I want to find him again. — Elizabeth Berg

So, seeing as you know all the details already, can I count on you to be best man?" Cole watched fear creep over Blake's face. "The ceremony is at night," he added quickly.
"If Mr. Old Timey is still all jacked up from being a bullet catcher, we'll put it off," Kyle added.
Blake smiled and held his arms open to the female ball of fire. "I'll be fine, Kyle. I wouldn't want you to spend one extra day not married to Cole because of me."
Kyle hugged him carefully. "Your being well is one of the only things that could ever make me wait."
Blake answered Cole's question still hanging in the air. "I'd be honored to serve as your best man. — Debra Anastasia

The guitar's still around me. I slip it off and put it down. I want to feel him. To feel his breath on my neck. The warmth of his skin. To feel something other than sadness.
Hold me, I tell him silently. Hold me here. To this place. This life. Make me want you. Want this. Want something. Please — Jennifer Donnelly

Savannah moved gracefully, going directly across the darkened street, heading for the shadows of the square. She was very much aware of Gregori still close to her, his body protective. For a moment she thought he brushed her shoulder with his hand, the sensation was so real, but when she turned her head, he was several feet behind.
Go, ma petite, take Gary to the house.Do not allow the neighbors to see either of you.And place the safeguards carefully.
What about you?
There is no safeguard I cannot unravel. Go now. This time, there was so mistake. He was four feet away, already turning away from her, but she felt his mouth burning possessively on hers, lingering for just a moment, his tongue tracing the curve of her lip. She couldn't believe he could make her want him, burn for him, when he was going off into the night alone to fight their enemies.
The night has always been mine, Savannah.Do not waste your time worrying about me. — Christine Feehan

Maybe I'll get you a painting for Christmas," I said.
"We don't buy Christmas presents for each other," Edward said.
We were both staring at the fireplace as if visualizing that make-believe fire. "Maybe I'll start. One of those big-eyed children or a clown on velvet."
"I won't hang it if I don't like it."
I glanced at him. "Unless it's from Donna."
He was very still suddenly. "Yes."
"Maybe I'll tell her how much you love those pictures of dogs playing poker and she can buy you some prints."
"She wouldn't believe it," he said.
"No, but I bet I could come up with something that she would believe that you'd hate just as much."
He stared at me. "You wouldn't."
"I might."
"This sounds like the opening to blackmail. What do you want? — Laurell K. Hamilton

Every minute with you, Darling Eve, is a minute to treasure."
She slid a glance toward him as she uncoded the seal. "You really do want sex."
"I'm still breathing, so that would be yes. — J.D. Robb

It'll be hard not to tease your folk sometimes."

Brishen couldn't imagine how she might go about such a thing. He had no idea if the Kai and the Gauri even knew the same jokes or found the same things funny. "What do you mean?"

He almost leapt out of his skin when Ildiko stared at him as both of her eyes drifted slowly down and over until they seemed to meet together, separated only by the elegant bridge of her nose.

"Lover of thorns and holy gods!" he yelped and clapped one hand across her eyes to shut out the sight. "Stop that," he ordered.

Ildiko laughed and pushed his hand away. She laughed even harder when she caught sight of his expression. "Wait," she gasped on a giggle. "I can do better. Want to see me make one eye cross and have the other stay still?"

Brishen reared back. "No!" He grimaced. "Nightmarish. I'll thank you to keep that particular talent to yourself, wife. — Grace Draven

Those were the words I thought were going to put everything back together again: but they didn't. I was hurt, angry and lost. I couldn't look at my husband without feeling pain. I didn't want him to touch me, or hold me, or comfort me. It was gone. He stood there, waiting for me to say something, anything that would let him know we still had a chance. — Courtney Giardina

But sleep didn't come. She could hear Jace's soft piano playing through the walls, but that wasn't what was keeping her awake. She was thinking of Simon, leaving for a house that no longer felt like home to him, of the despair in Jace's voice as he said 'I want to hate you', and of Magnus, not telling Jace the truth: that Alec did not want Jace to know about his relationship because he was still in love with him. She thought of the satisfaction it would have brought Magnus to say the words out loud, to acknowledge what the truth was, and the fact that he hadn't said them - had let Alec go on lying and pretending - because that was what Alec wanted, and Magnus cared about Alec enough to give him that. Maybe it was true what the Seelie Queen had said, after all: Love made you a liar. — Cassandra Clare

While I had no intention of hooking up with him, I still wanted him to want to hook up with me.
It was the principle of the thing, after all. — Kimberly Raye

You could not save him." Dretta nodded. "But he saved you. And you, Merros Dulver, you are supposed to save us from these Sa'ba Taalor when they attack. That's what I keep hearing. That you are a hero and will keep us safe from the people that killed my husband." Her voice was calm as she looked away from him to layer slices of roast meat and bread on his plate. When she looked up at him again her eyes were dry. "Keep us safe. Keep me safe. And while you are doing that, I want you to find the bitch that murdered my man and I want you to carve her head from her body." Her voice was still calm; as if she were discussing the crops she might plant on the last lands of her villa. "Bring me her head and prove to me that my husband made the right choice in dying for you. — James A. Moore

It's all right," said the Fool urgently. "You'll be perfectly safe with me." "Yes, I will, won't I," said Magrat, trying to look around him to see where the others had gone. "They're staging the play outside, in the big courtyard. We'll get a lovely view from one of the gate towers, and no one else will be there. I put some wine up there for us, and everything." When she still looked half-reluctant he added, "And there's a cistern of water and a fireplace that the guards use sometimes. In case you want to wash your hair. — Terry Pratchett

She stared at his sharp teeth and swallowed the lump
that formed in her throat. "Um, you look scary when you
show your ... uh ... teeth. They look really sharp."
He didn't get angry. In fact, her words seemed to
amuse him greatly. "The better to eat you with," he
teased softly.
Tammy's heart flipped inside her chest. "That's a bad
joke, right? Please tell me you're just kidding."
"I'm not a wolf."
"I'm not wearing red."
"I still want to eat you. — Laurann Dohner

What is on that memory stick, if you don't mind me asking?"
She was following him back into his apartment when he asked, and realized she still clutched it.
"Something I never want to see again. — Pixie Lynn Whitfield

Placing his snout on the edge of my bed,
Boomer pricks up his ears and widens his smiling eyes
when I turn my head towards him.
I smile at Boomer.
"I guess you want to go for a walk?"
Boomer bobs his head in agreement
and runs around in a circle.

"Okay," I say.
I turn over,
throw off the blankets,
raise my upper body
and swing my legs around and over
the edge of the bed.
I sit on the edge of the bed
with my feet touching the floor
and my hands at my sides,
all holding me up as my upper body
leans over the edge.
I am still half asleep.

I look around to my right for Boomer,
but he is no where to be found.
Boomer went for his last walk
some thirty years ago. — Jeffrey A. White

I loved you. I still love you. Even when I hate you, I love you. I always will. I'm not a smart man, but I know that." ... "Tell me what you want. If you want it, I'll leave. Not for him. I'll never do anything for him. But for you, I'll do it. I'll fucking kill myself inside of him. — Alessandra Torre

Good God!" Avery gasped at the bloody wound on Lucien's head and Cedric's grief-stricken expression.
"You were dueling?" Sir John growled. "Fools."
He relieved Lawrence of Lucien's feet to help carry the unconscious Marquess up the stairs to an empty bedroom.
The second Lucien was on the bed Lady Rochester burst into the room, fire in her eyes. "Is he dead?" she asked, panic creeping into her.
"The blow glanced his skull," Lawrence said. "He may still live."
"May? Oh, he will not die. I want to kill him myself and he will not deny me that."

-His Wicked Seduction — Lauren Smith

Do you want me, Shea?" This time his voice was hesitant, as if for all his strength, for all his power, one word from her would bring him crashing down. He was kneeling at her feet, his beloved face - so ravaged by torment, so beautifully male, so sensually Carpathian - staring up at her. He was lost without her; it was there for her to see. Raw. Stark. His total vulnerability. For just one moment the wind seemed to cease, and the storm held itself still as if the very skies were awaiting her answer.
"You can't possibly know how much I want you, Jacques, even if you're reading my mind. — Christine Feehan

You're still you, and he's still him. People don't change, Clara Belle. Not because they don't want to, but because they can't. Boone is who he is, and you are who you are. I would have warned you not to make the same mistake twice if I'd known you were even considering letting Boone Cavanaugh into your life again. — Nicole Williams

Sorry I was bitchy," I managed to say.
"You had cause, honey."
"My mother's awful."
"Yeah." He wiggled my toes individually. His voice was steam-blended and soft. "That advice she gave you was crap, by the way."
"You heard that? Oh, God."
"You should give me everything I want," Jack informed me. "You should spoil me rotten. And it's too late to play dumb, and you're cute as hell without makeup."
I smiled, my eyes still closed. "What about my glasses?"
"Definite turn-on."
"Everything's a turn-on for you," I said languidly.
"Not everything." Laughter thickened his voice.
"Yes. You're like one of those pharmaceutical commercials where they warn about four-hour erections. You need to go see your doctor."
"I don't find him all that attractive. — Lisa Kleypas

I looked him over for a second and suddenly it clicked. "Still want me to be mean to you?"
His eyes widened. "Yeah?"
"Well, come on then."
A minute later I had an oversized T-shirt that worked as a dress, a belt to shove my weapons into and a too-large leather jacket to toss over it all. I slammed out into the hall, leaving the guy tied to the desk chair by his underwear. Judging by his expression, he'd just leaned a valuable lesson about screwing with strange women. — Karen Chance

My brothers were still catching sparrows when my cousin told me to give him the baby bird. I didn't want to, but I took the squirming bird out of my pocket anyway. I wanted another look at it. It was so small. I don't think it could fly yet. My cousin plucked the bird from my palm and went off with it. I should never have taken it out of my pocket. When he returned, the birds were all burnt to a crisp. Their bones were popping out of their skin. I couldn't even tell which of the birds was mine. I looked at their burnt feathers and blackened skin and burst into tears. I cried for him to give me back my bird, but it was too late. My yelling must have irritate him, because he grabbed the smallest one and shoved it in my face, and said, 'Here it is.' When I took that charred baby bird from him, I felt the world crash down on me. It was the first time I had ever held something that had died. I love you as much as the sorrow I felt. — Kyung-Sook Shin

I want you to live in confidence that when God looks at you, He sees beauty. He sees value. He sees hope. And that even when you're hiding, or when you're so beaten down you can't see anything clearly, He's still hard at work, crafting a beautiful future of relationship with Him and with others. — Tammy Maltby

Give me," she said.
"Don't you mean please give me?"
"You want me to beg?"
That smile spread slightly. "Nah. I just heard you beg plenty."
"I did not beg." But she had. She so had. Still grinning, still naked, he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. "My panties, Mark. — Jill Shalvis

Yes. Eden, I fell in love with you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you fell in love with somebody else. And he gets to marry you. And then probably murder you. But you'd still rather be with him than with me, — Rachel Higginson

I don't want broth, I want an enormous piece of meat." Jessica held the trencher on his lap. "You'll eat broth because that's all your body can take right now - " "I'll eat what I bloody well feel like eating - " "Which is broth," she finished. She was almost nose to nose with him. "Don't push me, Richard." Richard had the overwhelming urge to strangle her. Unfortunately, she was close enough that he caught an eyeful of what his fist had done to her delicate features. He was shamed enough to be grateful she hadn't left him because of it. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "'Twas the fever." "That's why I'm still here. — Lynn Kurland

It would have been only fair to tell him so. To explain, right now, that she was the bloody Titanic whose wake would carry him under, if he didn't jump into the lifeboat and head for the open sea.
Instead, he leaned over to kiss her.
She waited. Hesitated. Then withdrew her head before their lips could touch. For a split second he looked offended, but then he smiled, blinked at the sun, and said, "Well, when it gets to that point, I want to be there."
"When what gets to what point?"
"When you're not looking at everyone else as if they'd just declared war on you. And when you realize" - he pointed across the ravine - "that things may look like the end of the world but the world still goes on, over there on the other side. Maybe just one really large step would cross it. — Kai Meyer

I just want everyone to know that even though Hogan won at Summerslam I still pinned him 1, 2, 3. — Randy Orton

I'm not him - that guy who was your boyfriend. That guy you want.He almost said: I wish I could be. He had wished he could be. That was why he had come to the Academy, to learn how to be that guy they all wanted back. He'd wanted to be that way, be an awesome hero like in a game or a movie. He'd been so sure, at first, that was what he wanted. Except wishing he could be that guy was like wishing to obliterate the guy he was now: the normal, happy guy in a band, who could still love his mother, who did not wake up in the coldest, darkest hour of the night weeping for dead friends. And he did not know if he could be that guy she wanted, whether he wished it or not. — Cassandra Clare

He's been going on about the End of All Things for as long as I've known him," she said carelessly. "And we're all still here. Hey, want to see a really upsetting party trick I can do with two flick-knives and an unwilling volunteer? — Simon R. Green

Keep your shirt on," she said with a laugh at her bad joke. "Your clothes are at the laundry. They'll
deliver them as soon as they're ready."
"And in the meantime?"
"Looks like you're naked."
His jaw worked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I beg your pardon?"
"Beg all you want, you're still going to be naked." Tabitha paused at the wicked image in her mind.
"Come to think of it, a gorgeous, begging, naked man ... that's the stuff of fantasies. Begging won't get
you your clothes, but it could get you something else." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I run my fingers along the thick, fabric wallpaper to steady myself. Putting one foot in front of another feels like learning to walk all over again. My body's still working. Heart's still beating. Lungs still moving. But not because I want them to. They do those things on their own, without me even asking. So why didn't they do it for Eamon ? How could his body just give up on him like that ? Fall apart. It made him seen so fragile, and I don't want to remember him that way. He was the strongest guy I knew. How could he break so easily ? It seems like our bodies would be built better. It just doesn't fucking seem real. — Jolene Perry

So, Zoe told me today that - " "Wait. Are you going to talk like that?"
I glanced down and realized he was referring to the fact that my shirt was sitting on the floor beside me. "My bra's still on. What's the problem?"
"The problem is that I'm distracted. Very distracted. If you want my undivided attention and wisdom, you'd better put the shirt back on."
I smiled and scooted over to him. "Why, Adrian Ivashkov, are you admitting weakness?" I reached out to touch his cheek, and he caught my wrist with a fierceness that was surprisingly provocative.
"Of course. I never claimed strength in the face of your charms, Sage. I'm just an ordinary man. Now put the shirt back on. — Richelle Mead

Where the hell did you get those?" Bronagh asked me causing everyone's gaze to turn my way.

I grinned and proudly held up my flowers. "Mr. Pervert."

The lads all looked to Alec and laughed.

"How badly did you want to hit him?" Nico asked.

Alec growled, "I'm still contemplating going back inside and kicking his ass."

I rattled my head. "Relax, he was just being nice."

"Nice my ass," all four brothers said in unison, which cracked up the girls.

"They all share the same narrow mind," Aideen teased.

I fell into Alec and laughed.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Shut up," Kane deadpanned making me laugh harder. — L.A. Casey

I want to meet him. Perhaps show him my gun collection."
I laugh, realizing my face still isn't dry as the chuckles send tears off the bottom of my chin. "You don't have a gun collection."
"My cutlery, then." He smiles, patting my leg. — Cassie Mae

I almost jumped when the door opened. Alex came back inside, wearing black sweatpants; I swallowed as I saw his chest bare. "Forgot my T-shirt," he said sheepishly. His bag was on the floor near the bed, and I watched the lantern light play on his skin as he crossed to it. Squatting by the bag, he pulled out a T-shirt; I sat frozen, taking in the movement of his back and shoulders.
I stood up, my heart hammering. "Wait. Can I just ... ?" I trailed off as he turned to look at me.
"What?" he said, rising to his feet.
An embarrassed laugh escaped me. I shook my head. "Just
before you put that on, can I ... ?" In slow motion, I went over to him. I reached out toward his chest and then stopped, my fingers hesitating an inch from his skin. "Is
this all right?"
Alex stood very still, a soft smile on his face. "Anything you want is all right. — L.A. Weatherly

I see the way you look at him, and he looks at you. Don't question love, Iris. It may have come to you in an inconvenient form, one that society finds scandalous, but it's a gift from God. A reminder that this institution can't interfere with natural processes, like laughter, prayer, a dream that comes to you in sleep. Or love. Do with it what you want, but know it means God still sees you not as a lunatic but as His child. — Kathy Hepinstall

She shouldn't have been beautiful - she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still ... Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn't hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.
"There's something I've wanted to do since the first moment I saw you," he said. It came out close to a whisper.
"Oh?" He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.
"Don't even think of arguing."
She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.
He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. "I want you to eat," he said. — Courtney Milan

He knows exactly what I need even when I don't. I'm not sure how he knows me so well, but he does. He knows that when I try to push him away, it means I need him even more. And when I say I don't want to talk, it means I really need to. I'm crazy that way and other guys would've given up on me months ago. But Garret's still here and he isn't going anywhere. Just thinking about that makes me feel like the luckiest girl alive. — Allie Everhart

Do not worry about the formula.I allowed one of the members to inject me with it,so we know its components and are working on an antidote now."
"It didn't work?" Gary was appalled. He had spent a tremendous amount of time on that formula.Althought Morrison and his crew had perverted it, he was still disappointed.
"You cannot have it both ways,Gary." Exasperated, Gregori gave him a little shove toward the entrance to the hotel. "You should not want the damn thing to work."
"Hey,my reputation is on the line."
"So was mine.I neutralized the poison." Gregori nudged him again. "Get moving. — Christine Feehan

Can I tell you something?" He tilted his head, moving in closer still, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Do you want to know what my grandma used to say about kisses on the forehead?"
He pressed his lips to her brow, holding the silk soft kiss for a long moment while Isobel stood in place, unable to bring herself to shove him away.
"She told me it's the kind of kiss we save for the dead. — Kelly Creagh

For the record," I do not desire your body. Not that you're hideous or anything, far from it. Even with those scars, your chest is really nice, and I like your legs because they aren't scrawny, and you have nice shoulders and naughty bits, but I've never been one to put physical attributes ahead of more important things."
"Such as?" He had his hands on his hips when he asked the question, which just made me want to giggle again.
"Intelligence, a sense of humor, and oh yes, not being a mythical creature." I swallowed another giggle. "Not that it wasn't a cool form, but still. I like my men without the sort of baggage that must go with being a shape-shifter."
"Is that so?" One eyebrow lifted.
"Yes."
"Then you will not like this." He pulled me against him, his mouth moving into place on mine, his breath hotter than I could have imagined. And then he kissed the very wits right out of my brain. — Katie MacAlister

You'll do," Hemarchidas thought. "Isn't this what we always end up with? What we truly want is unreachable, so we'll make do with what is at hand. I know for you it's different. I know for you it's really me you want. You won't regret it. I'll love you for that, and for who you are. There is still a little part of me that wishes things could have been different. I'll never let you know, feel, or even suspect that, though. I'll make sure at least one of us gets what he truly wants." He noticed Arranulf was studying his face. He gave him a reassuring smile and a light peck on the lips. "It'll be all right, and I too will be all right. — Andrew Ashling

I understand that Call will be your counterweight?"
Aaron looked over at Call as though he was expecting Call to take back the offer.
"Yeah" Call said. "I mean, if he still wants."
That made Aaron give him a lopsided grin. "I want. — Cassandra Clare

Hello,' he said, his voice and smile pleasant.
'You can't touch me!' I sat up and pulled the covers over myself.
'Yes about that. You need to negate the command.'
'Excuse me?'
He looked at me patiently, like he was explaining something to a stubborn child. 'You need to break that command.'
'And why on earth would I ever want to do that?' I glared at him. Lunatic.
'Because I wasn't finished.'
'Oh, no, I really think that you were.' I held up my wrist. It still bore the scarlet mark of his hand and, to my eyes at least, was bright against the light of the lamp. Then, since I was holding up my hand anyway, I flipped him off.
'You're going to need more.'
'Well, that's easy.' I held up my other hand and flipped him off with that one, too. — Kiersten White

If you want some advice - which I'm sure you don't - you guys should lay off on the magic. Christian still thinks you're moving in on Lissa."
"What?" he asked in mock astonishment. "Doesn't he know my heart belongs to you?"
"It does not. And no, he's still worried about it, despite what I've told him."
"You know, I bet if we started making out right now, it would make him feel better."
"If you touch me," I said pleasantly, "I'll provide you with the opportunity to see if you can heal yourself. Then we'd see how badass you really are. — Richelle Mead

I step in to give him a hug, but his hand comes in between us.
His hand.
Because he doesn't want to do any more than shake. With the girl he's made love to. Whose heart is bursting out of her chest.
I'm trembling in a way that makes me feel like I might fall apart any second. His hand touches mine, and I love the warmth of him. Love the way he feels.
My eyes don't live his. He has only some idea that he could be a model for Calvin Klein. This is so weird. I'm supposed to be angry. Hurt. Instead I'm in shock that he still makes me feel this way - like we were something special. — Jolene Perry

Knowing what we know, how much more do we want to give Him something? But He seems to have everything. Well, not quite. He doesn't have you with Him again forever, not yet. I hope you are touched by the feelings of His heart enough to sense how much He wants to know you are coming home to Him. You can't give that gift to Him in one day, or one Christmas, but you could show Him today that you are on the way. You could pray. You could read a page of scripture. You could keep a commandment. If you have already done these, there is still something left to give. All around you are people He loves but can help only through you and me. One of the sure signs that we have accepted the gift of the Savior's atonement is that we give gifts to others. — Henry B. Eyring

Even if I tried to tell myself that I had given him nothing, that the children were mostly mine, that they had remained within the radius of my body, subject to my care, still I couldn't avoid thinking what aspects of his nature inevitably lay hidden in them. [ ... ] How much of him would I be forced to love forever, without even realizing it, simply by virtue of the fact that I loved them? What a complex foamy mixture a couple is. Even if the relationship shatters and ends, it continues to act in secret pathways, it doesn't die, it doesn't want to die. — Elena Ferrante

I remembered Ignifex's smirk and his confident words: I can wait all I want and still have you.
And I thought, Here is one thing he isn't getting. Standing on my toes, I kissed Shade on the lips.
It was just a bump of my face against his. Despite Aunt Telomache's lecture, I had no idea how long to prolong a kiss, and his lips startled me, foreign and cool as glass. But then he caught me under the chin and gently kissed my mouth open. Though his lips were still cool, his breath was warm; as he kissed me. I breathed in time to him, until I felt like my body was only a breath of air mixing with his. — Rosamund Hodge

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 see," she whispered. She withdrew her hand, but Michael snatched it back just as quickly. "I still want to marry you," he insisted. "I love you and will marry you even though there is no house attached to you." He tilted her chin so she was forced to look at him. Tiny crinkles fanned out from his troubled blue eyes, and never had she seen such concern in a man's face. "Do you believe me, Libby? — Elizabeth Camden

But ... maybe I could find something. Maybe there would be one person who'd still want to kiss me when I had a runny nose or would rub my shoulders after a long day of meetings. Maybe I could find someone who didn't seem so scary, who made letting him past the wall seem natural. But all that still could be asking for too much. — Kiera Cass

I felt guilty that I hadn't thought of Kizuki right away, as if I had somehow abandoned him. Back in my room, though, I came to think of it this way: two and a half years have gone by since it happened, and Kizuki is still seventeen years old. Not that this means my memory of him has faded. The things that his death gave rise to are still there, bright and clear, inside me, some of them even clearer than when they were new. What I want to say is this: I'm going to turn twenty soon. Part of what Kizuki and I shared when we were sixteen and seventeen has already vanished, and no amount of crying is going to bring that back. I can't explain it any better than this, but I think that you can probably understand what I felt and what I am trying to say. — Haruki Murakami

The tendency in our spiritual life but also our more general attitude toward love is that our feelings are all that is going on. And so to us the totality of love is what we feel. But to really love someone requires commitment, fidelity and vulnerability. Mother Teresa wasn't "feeling" Christ's love, and she could have shut down. But she was up at 4:30 every morning for Jesus, and still writing to him, "Your happiness is all I want." — Brian Kolodiejchuk

Adam returned his gaze to the cross. The Jesus was hurting. Guilt simmered and then boiled in him. Jesus had a whole world of suffering and horror to worry about and here Adam was in all his punk puniness. He didn't want to add to Jesus's burdens, but...

'Sorry about that. Look, I know you're busy and I don't want to get greedy with your time, but still, if you could just help me... If you could find a minute, please, please, please, dear sweet Jesus, fix me. — Teresa Toten

I couldn't believe I let him see me like this, unable to fend for myself. I fumed in disgust at my vulnerability. I didn't want Evan to think I needed protecting. I pulled back my torment and let the numb blanket envelop me, pushing away the stirred memories, the noise of the crowd, and the trembling that still lay beneath the surface. I stared at the flames licking at the darkness and everything was lost as I sank deeper into nothingness. — Rebecca Donovan

When we got to the Lock-Horne Building on Park Avenue - again Win's full name is Windsor Horne Lockwood III, so you do the math - Dad said, "You want me to just drop you off?" Sometimes my father leaves me awestruck. Fatherhood is about balance, but how can one man do it so well, so effortlessly? Throughout my life he pushed me to excel without ever crossing the line. He reveled in my accomplishments yet never made them seem to be all that important. He loved without condition, yet he still made me want to please him. He knew, like now, when to be there, and when it was time to back off. "I'll be okay." He — Harlan Coben

I understand how not even a priest can resist you when you want him. I can understand how love is something horrible and complex and hurting and something that still happens even if it shouldn't, and can't, and how one can want to be somebody else's world. I get it. And it fucking hurts. — Aleksandr Voinov

But he hadn't appeared that night. Not the next morning, either. By the time she finally crossed paths with him the following afternoon, his mumbled "Merry Christmas" was the extent of their exchange.
It seemed they were back to silence.
I don't want you.
She tried to ignore the words echoing in her memory. They weren't true, she told herself. She was an expert at deceit; she knew a lie when she heard one.
Still. What else to believe, when he avoided her thus?
Although he rarely spoke to her over the next two days, Sophia frequently overheard him speaking of her. Even these remarks were the tersest of commands: "Fetch Miss Turner more water," or "See that her canopy doesn't go slack." She felt herself being tended, not unlike a goat. Fed, watered, sheltered. Perhaps she shouldn't complain. Food, water, and shelter were all welcome things.
But Sophia was not livestock, and she had other, more profound needs. Needs he seemed intent on neglecting, the infuriating man. — Tessa Dare

Is there a reason you are here?" he finally demanded.
With complete nonchalance she replied, "Well,I've brought my trunks. I do believe I'm moving in."
"The hell you are!"
"Nice of you to welcome me in your usual boorish manner" was all she said to that.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. It made not a jot of difference that he'd just gone to Norford and back this morning to bring her here himself. That had been his idea.Her coming here on her own was her idea,and it make him suspicious.
"Don't start your manipulations already," he warned her. "Answer my question."
"Why am I still here? Shall we start with the obvious reason? Because I really am pregnant and once my pregnancy starts to show,I do not want to be in a position to have people ask me who my husband is and not believe me when I tell them that it's you."
"And the not-so-obvious answer?"
"Because you make me so furious that I spite myself to spite you! — Johanna Lindsey

Outcast!" When he'd disappeared into the bushes, Juniper wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Percy. I didn't mean to get you involved. Leneus is still a lord of the Wild. You don't want to make an enemy of him." "No problem," I said. "I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs." Nico walked back to us. "Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well. — Rick Riordan

Most people would not trust a drunken prostitute like Daise. Would you have two weeks ago?'
She blinked at him. 'I don't know.' She hadn't even thought about prostitutes, drunken or not, two weeks ago. 'That could be me on the corner were things different.' She swallowed. 'Or if they go differently, it still could. I would want someone to believe me. — Anne Mallory

As we ride the elevator Gale finally says "You're still angry."
"And you're still not sorry," I reply.
"I will stand by what I said. Do you want me to lie about it?" he asks.
"No, I want you to rethink it and come up with the right opinion," I tell him. — Suzanne Collins

I want the young people to pay attention because, see, back when I first met Barack, we started dating, he had everything going for him. All right, ladies, listen to this. This is what I want you to be looking for. Yes, he was handsome-still is. I think so. He was charming, talented, and oh-so smart, truly. But that is not why I married him. Now, see, I want the fellas to pay attention to this. You all listening? What truly made me fall in love with Barack Obama was his character. You hear me? It was his character. It was his decency, his honesty, his compassion and conviction. — Michelle Obama

I'm taking a shower."
Oh, God. She was killing him. Making him want to laugh out loud. Where had his sense of self-preservation gone? He didn't feel emotion - that was far too dangerous. He shivered beneath the blankets, suddenly afraid for her. For himself.
"You're still cold. I should have thought to rub you down with some warm oil. Lexi makes it and I use it sometimes when I come in from a dive. It warms you up fast. Can you roll over, because I'm not rubbing your front."
"Why not?"
"If you want a massage, turn over. — Christine Feehan

Francisco, I did love you-' she said, and caught her breath, shocked, realizing that she had not intended to say it and, simultaneously, that this was not the tense she had wanted to use.
'But you do,' he said calmly, smiling. 'You still love me-even if there's one expression of it that you'll always feel and want, but will not give to me any longer. I'm still what I was, and you'll always see it, and you'll always grant me the same response, even if there's a greater one that you grant to another man. No matter what you feel for him, it will not change what you feel for me and it won't be treason to either, because comes from the same root, it's the same payment in answer to the same values. No matter what happens in the future, we'll always be what we were to each other, you and I, because you'll always love me. — Ayn Rand

He stripped to his trunks, then dove into the pool. We all watched as he broke the surface and climbed from the water, his muscles slick and wet, his green eyes glowing in the half light of the glass ceiling. I heard Natalie and Sara both sigh, and Harry murmur that it almost made him want to go gay. Coby stretched out on a chaise beside me and asked, So you still sorry you moved here? — Lee Nichols

I want to know, sir-when shall I find God?" "You have found Him." "O no, sir, I don't think so!" My guru was smiling. "I am sure you aren't expecting a venerable Personage, adorning a throne in some antiseptic corner of the cosmos! I see, however, that you are imagining that the possession of miraculous powers is knowledge of God. One might have the whole universe, and find the Lord elusive still! Spiritual advancement is not measured by one's outward powers, but only by the depth of his bliss in meditation. — Paramahansa Yogananda

I am interested in you, Gretchen." When I still won't look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, "I'm interested in you."
His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.
This time I'm not buying it.
My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air.
"Find your own way home," I snap before turning and marching back to my car. — Tera Lynn Childs

Several minutes passed. Krysta looked at her watch.
"We still have a few hours of hunting left and nothing much is happening. You want to make out a little?"
He laughed in surprised delight. "You're a saucy wench, aren't you?"
"Hey, when I want something, I go for it."
His body hardened. "And you want me?"
"Yes." She studied him intently. "Your eyes are glowing."
"I want you, too. — Dianne Duvall

I walked him to the door. "Is there anything else you want me to do? Check your mail? Water your plants?"
"My mail is being forwarded to my lawyer. And I'm watering my own plants."
"So, you feel safe in the Batcave?" The corners of his mouth curved into the hint of a smile. He leaned forward and kissed me at the base of my neck, just above my T-shirt collar.
"Sweet dreams." Before he left, he said good-night to Grandma, who was still in the kitchen.
"What a nice, polite young man," Grandma said. "And he's got an excellent package."
I went straight to her closet, found the bottle of booze, and dumped some into my cocoa. — Janet Evanovich

us. I do not want to be around our pregnant friends, and I become hysterical when someone announces a pregnancy. And Pete doesn't understand it. To try to explain it to him, I used this analogy: We are saving for a house, but we can't afford it. I tell him, "Picture it like this: Even after all this time, we still can't afford the house we want. How would you feel if, while we're scrimping and saving, all of a sudden every one of our friends was handed a house for free? Absolutely free. Wouldn't that feel unfair? — Alice D. Domar

If I order an appetizer is there any chance I can get it quickly? I'm two and a half months pregnant with a Bradford," she said, not mentioning it was twins because the thought was actually starting to scare her and she hadn't told Trevor yet and didn't want him finding out this way. She just hoped the woman understood because she was close to crying. Judging by the slightly startled look on the woman's face she did.
The waitress shook her head. "No, you're right. You probably won't be able to survive the wait," she said, sending Trevor, who was still trying to get the woman to leave, a glare. "I'll bring you out a bowl of clam chowder followed by chicken fingers, they'll only take a few minutes to prepare. Will that work?"
Zoe nodded solemnly. "You are my hero."
"I'll put a rush on your food," the waitress said before walking away.
"Bless you," Zoe said, fighting the urge to kiss the woman. — R.L. Mathewson

I can't sit still and see another man slaving and working. I want to get up and superintend, and walk round with my hands in my pockets, and tell him what to do. It is my energetic nature. I can't help it. — Jerome K. Jerome

Don't you want to take a last look at the place?" he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. "We'll never be here again. Don't you want to remember all the good times? I mean, look at this doormat. What memories . . . Dudley puked on it after I saved him from the dementors . . . Turns out he was grateful after all, can you believe it? . . . And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door . . . ."
Harry lost the thread of his thoughts for a moment and Hedwig did nothing to help him retrieve it, but continued to sit with her head under her wing. Harry turned his back on the front door.
"And under here, Hedwig" - Harry pulled open a door under the stairs - "is where I used to sleep! You never knew me then - Blimey, it's small, I'd forgotten . . . . — J.K. Rowling

Please tell me you have to pee."
"What? No. No, I do not. Don't even ask."
"Oh, come on. I'd do it myself if I could, but I can't. I'm a girl."
"I know. Life is unfair. I'm still not going to pee on Karou's ex-boyfriend for you."
"What? I wasn't even going to ask you to." In her most reasonable tone, Zuzana explained, "I just want you to pee in a balloon so I can drop it on him."
"Oh." Mik pretended to consider this for approximately one and a half second. "No. — Laini Taylor

I think retirement's for old people. I'm still in the business, thank you. I have a young child of nine years old, and I want to live as long as I can to see him grow up. I'm enjoying my life and I want to stick around for as long as I can. — Harrison Ford

Want me to roll you?" Tom asked. "Not funny." But Prophet was rock hard. Tom stalking over to him and crowding him wasn't helping. "You still have that duct tape?" "Yeah. Why?" "Come on, bebe. Let's play gator." Prophet hated the way his body responded yes - eagerly - to that question. "Think you wanna. 'M'I wrong?" Tom's drawl was thick as hell, went right down Prophet's spine, as the man's hand snaked around Prophet's waist and pushed his own hard cock against Prophet's cargo pant-clad one. "Yes. — S.E. Jakes

I glanced up at Zay, then walked over to stand next to him.
"You look good with a baby in your arms," he murmured.
I took his hand, careful with his fingers that were still wrapped in tape.
"Don't get your hopes up, Jones. I'm not the settling-down type."
"Want to bet on that?" he asked.
"Sure." I made a fist; so did he. We pumped three times.
I threw paper. Zayvion threw scissors.
I'd lost. Startled, I looked up at him. "Two out of three?"
Zay grinned. So did I. — Devon Monk

Honestly, I don't quite know how we got to this point. I hated him on sight. I did this only for the money. I thought he was a fucked up mess. I still think he's a fucked up mess.
But so am I. And he's so beautiful, so thoughtful, so vulnerable. We can be a mess together. I want to heal him. I know I can heal him. — Monica Murphy

Caleb had taken his son out of the room to be bathed, and when he returned carrying the squalling bundle his face glowed with delight. "He's mad as hell, isn't he?" Lily smiled despite her weariness. "You would be, too, if you'd just been through a birthing." Caleb kissed her forehead and laid the baby beside her on the bed. "I love you, Mrs. Halliday," he said, "but I think maybe we'd better stop with Joss here." Lily shook her head resolutely. "Oh, no. I want more children, and I'll have them. Doc Lindsay may be an old sawbones, but I think he could handle the task of delivering me of a few more babies like this one." Little Joss was still howling, so Lily picked him up and put him to her breast. Even though her milk wasn't in yet, he seemed to be comforted just by suckling, and Lily smiled at that. He was just like his father. As — Linda Lael Miller

Cam leaned over her, bracing his forearms on either side of her, kissing her sulky mouth. "Just for tonight," he whispered. "Wear my ring, Amelia, and let me pleasure you." He kissed her throat, his hips shunting gently against her. She gasped at the feel of him, hard and swollen behind the black silk. His mouth traveled slowly up to her ear. "I'll enter you, fill you, and then I'll hold you still and quiet in my arms. I won't move. I won't let you move, either. I'll wait until I feel you throbbing around me ... I'll follow that rhythm deep in your body, that sweet pulse ... I won't stop until you weep and shiver and cry out for more. And I'll give it to you, as long and hard as you want. Take my ring, love." His mouth descended to hers in a smoldering kiss. "Take me. — Lisa Kleypas

The man looked up and Tanya was staring at him through watery eyes.
"Now you know. I don't see how it changes anything."
"It doesn't. You're still a diamond in a field of mud."
Tanya smirked.
"And what about you?"
"I don't know what I am."
"What do you want to be?"
"It's not that easy. — Luke Taylor

And do you know the story about Haydn's head? They cut it away from the still-warm cadaver so some insane scientist could take apart the brain and pinpoint the location of musical genius. And the Einstein Story? He'd carefully written his will with instructions to cremate him. They followed his orders, but his disciple, ever loyal and devoted, refused to live without the master's gaze on him. Before the cremation, he took the eyes of the cadaver and put them in a bottle of alcohol to keep them watching him until the moment he should die himself. That's why I said that the crematory fire is the only way our bodies can escape them. It's the only absolute death. And I don't want any other. Jean-Marc, I want an absolute death. — Milan Kundera