Quotes & Sayings About Jericho Barrons

Where are you? Touch me.
I slip my hand into his, and for a moment he just stands there, looking down at where I am, then he closes his eyes and laces strong fingers with mine. I hear exactly what he's not saying in them: You better bring your ass back to me, woman.
I reply with mine, Always.
He laughs softly then somehow finds my face and kisses me, light and fast, and I taste him on my lips, need him again, hard and fast and soon. — Karen Marie Moning

I'm sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody's does, and you go on. It's how you go on that defines you. — Karen Marie Moning

I'm not helping you, Ms. Lane. I'm entertaining the notion that you might be of use to me. If so, I need you alive. — Karen Marie Moning

Your heels are damaging my rug. It's an eighty-thousand-dollar rug."
I say, "You like me in heels. Money doesn't signify anymore. And at least I'm not burning holes in it."
"A wiser woman wouldn't remind me of that time. I'm still pissed about it. — Karen Marie Moning

You don't get to make my decisions for me. It's my life and only I know what I need and what I'm willing to go through. I don't want to live without you. I felt that once. I never want to feel it again." I'd been lost, purposeless, denied Heaven. It was as if his frequency and my frequency made such an exquisite song together that without it I wasn't alive. — Karen Marie Moning

For what other reason would you have me save you? Because I like you? Better to be useful than liked. — Karen Marie Moning

-I'm going to kill the kid. - Barrons says faintly.
Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bodly laught. -Get in line — Karen Marie Moning

I hope they change my drugs soon. Whatever I'm on isn't working. — Karen Marie Moning

Get your own fashion adviser," Barrons growled. "Maybe I decided I like your style." "Maybe you thought if you were more like me, she'd fuck you, too. — Karen Marie Moning

Jericho Barrons was my poison now. — Karen Marie Moning

Leave it alone, I'm handling this," Barrons told Ryodan.
"I suggest you do a better job."
"And I suggest you go fuck yourself. — Karen Marie Moning

Have you been in a fight? No, let me guess; you saved a wounded dog, again?" I said dryly. That was the excuse he'd used last time. "I had a nosebleed." "Nosebleed, my petunia." "Petunia?" "Ass, Barrons. As in you are one. — Karen Marie Moning

Being touched by Jericho Barrons with kindness makes you feel like you the biggest, most savage lion in the jungle, lying down, placing your
head it its mouth and, rather than taking your life, it licks you and
purrs. — Karen Marie Moning

I whirled and locked gazes with him, shucked my pride, doffed my prickly alpha stubbornness and said, You are my world, Jericho Barrons. Not him. Never him. — Karen Marie Moning

Four: If you try to force yourself into my head, I will force myself into your pants. — Karen Marie Moning

Nobody home but She for Whom I Am the World. Can't go on like this, can't keep doing it.- Jericho Barrons — Karen Marie Moning

This lion that I'd sauntered up to wearing my flashy peacock feathers hadn't snapped the head off my skinny, brilliantly colored neck, he'd only licked me and waited for me to grow claws. I had neither flashy feathers nor claws now. I'd become yet another thing.
A steel fist inside a velvet glove.
Strong enough that I was no longer afraid to be gentle. Powerful enough that I could be vulnerable. Scarred enough that I could understand and thread lightly around the deepest scars of others. — Karen Marie Moning

Was that the sum total of my exsitence? I didn't get the erudition of 'I think therefore I am.'
Instead I got 'I am, therefore I want to fuck Jericho Barrons. — Karen Marie Moning

Like is an emotion. Emotions" - he raised a hand, made a fist, clenched it tightly - "are like holding water. You open your hand, there's nothing there. Better to be a weapon than a woman. — Karen Marie Moning

I was no longer sexually vulnerable to the death-by-sex Fae Prince.
Jericho Barrons was my poison now. — Karen Marie Moning

Why should I let you take it?" "Because you owe me." "Why do I owe you?" "Because I put up with you. — Karen Marie Moning

He pulls me around and kisses me. "You're Mac," he says. "And I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters. Never will. You exist in a place that is beyond all rules for me. Do you understand that?"
I do.
Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me. — Karen Marie Moning

Do you think love just goes away? Pops out of existence when it becomes too painful or inconvenient, as if you never felt it?"
I looked at him. What did Jericho Barrons know of love?
"If only it did. If only it could be turned off. It's not a faucet. Love's a bloody river with level-five rapids. Only a catastrophic act of nature or a dam has any chance of stopping it - and then usually only succeeds in diverting it. Both measures are extreme and change the terrain so much you end up wondering why you bothered. No landmarks to gauge your position when it's done. Only way to survive is to devise new ways to map out life. You loved her yesterday, you love her today. And she did something that devastates you. You'll love her tomorrow. — Karen Marie Moning

You want to fight or fuck, Mac?"
I bounced from foot to foot, wired with fury and sexual energy. I may never understand why I always feel them together around him but I sure as hell can enjoy it. "Both."
"Think you can take me?"
"Going to damn well try."
"Think you'll survive it?"
I stabbed a finger in his chest and smiled up at him. "I think I'm gonna own it. Jericho."
He growled low in his chest. "Bring it the fuck on, Mac."
I brought it. — Karen Marie Moning

I didn't want to hide the memory from you. I wanted to cram it down your goddamn throat. I wanted to force you to face it, to want it, to want me, to be willing to fight for what was possible between us with the same single-minded devotion as you fucked. Well, Ms. Lane, you've got your precious memory back. Will you throw me away now? — Karen Marie Moning

Even I don't know what you're doing, and I know everything. — Karen Marie Moning

We're translating the Kama Sutra, Barrons said, with interactive aids. — Karen Marie Moning

Stop staring at my dick," he growled.
Oh, yes it was definitely an illusion. "Barrons loved me staring at his dick,"I informed it. "he would have been happy if I'd stared at his dick all day long, composing odes to its perfection. — Karen Marie Moning

Someday I'm going to push Jericho Barrons as far as I can and see what happens. — Karen Marie Moning

There are currently three places to obtain food in Dublin, where the prices vary according to whim: Chester's, the Fae, and the black market. If you ask me, they're all black. Of course nobody does ask me because nobody sees me because I lay low all the time and I've got a boyfriend who isn't much for talking.
I snort. I just thought of Jericho Barrons as my "boyfriend." I doubt that cataclysm was ever a boy and he certainly can't be called friendly.
It's official. I'm losing it. — Karen Marie Moning

Little testy tonight?"
"That woman's boobs do not belong in your face."
"It's not as if I can see yours at the moment."
"Well, you're damn well going to feel them. Soon."
"One hopes," he murmurs. — Karen Marie Moning

I have to talk to him," I said flatly. "I forbid it." Every cell in my being bristled. I practically shouted, "You what?" "For. Bid. It." "You did not just say that to me. — Karen Marie Moning

I'm asking the questions tonight. One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator
and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons. — Karen Marie Moning

Sun, moon, and stars, I told him. He inclined his head. Of all the years, this one with you has been my finest. Fire to my ice, Mac. Frost to my flame, Jericho. Forever, we said, and it was a vow far more powerful and binding than any ring or piece of paper. — Karen Marie Moning

One minute you think you've got the world by the balls, the next minute you don't know where the fuck the world's balls are."
"Sure I do," I say irritably. "Right next to the world's big fat hairy asshole, upon which I seem to be stuck in superglue lately, waiting for it to have its next case of explosive diarrhea. — Karen Marie Moning

You're being a bloody fool." "As if you haven't been a time or two. Jericho, I'm holding your hand right up till the last. We'll sit up high on Dani's water tower, watch the world blink out and blink out with it. I'll be staring into your eyes at the end. And we'll smile. And I'm okay with that." I was more than okay with that. It felt right somehow. I'd found my soul mate. And whatever adventure was coming next, I was meeting it with him. Or drinking deeply of oblivion without him. I couldn't leave him. It was no longer possible. I wasn't sure it had ever been. — Karen Marie Moning

Open your eyes and say my name."
I squeeze them shut more tightly.
"It would make my cock hard to hear you say my name."
My eyes pop open. "Jericho Barrons," I say sweetly.
He makes a pained sound. "Bloody hell, woman, I think a part of me wants to keep you this way."
I touch his face. "I like how I am. I like how you are, too. When you are ... What is that word you used? Cooperating."
"Tell me to fuck you."
I smile and comply. We're back in territory I understand.
"You didn't say my name. Say my name when you tell me to fuck you."
"Fuck me, Jerricho Barrons."
"From now on, you will call me Jericho Barrons every time you speak to me. — Karen Marie Moning

Then we're on the same page. Same paragraph, same sentence," I snapped. "Same bloody word," he agreed flatly. — Karen Marie Moning

Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears. I'd seen many things in his eyes in the time that I'd known him: lust, amusement, sympathy, mockery, caution, fury. But I had never seen this.
Hope. Jericho Barrons had hope, and I was the reason for it.
I would never forget his smile. It had illuminated him from the inside out. — Karen Marie Moning

Sometimes, Ms. Lane," he said, "one must break with one's past to embrace one's future. It is never an easy thing to do. It is one of the distinguishing characteristics between survivors and victims. Letting go of what was, to survive what is. — Karen Marie Moning

Since the moment I laid eyes on Jericho Barrons, I wanted him. I wanted him to do things to me that pink and clueless MacKayla Lane was shocked and appalled and ... okay, yeah, well, utterly fascinated to find herself thinking about. — Karen Marie Moning

God Said: Let there be light!
I said: Say please. — Karen Marie Moning

Don't do it. I let you push me pretty far sometimes, but not this time. I will not have you put your" - it took me a moment to find the right words - "sorcerer's brand on me, so you can hunt me down whenever and wherever you please. And that, Jericho Barrons, is non-negotiable."

Well done, Ms. Lane. Just when I think you're all useless fluff and nails, you show me some teeth."

You win. This time. I won't tattoo you. Not today. But in lieu of that, you will do something for me. Refuse and I tattoo you. And, Ms. Lane, if I chain you up one more time tonight, there'll be no more talking. I'll gag you. — Karen Marie Moning

If he were any other man, I might have suspected him of substance abuse, of being coked up or something. But Barrons was too much a purist for that; his drugs were money, power, and control — Karen Marie Moning

He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?"
"Jericho"
"Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight.
My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck? — Karen Marie Moning

I'm obsessed and addicted and ripped-down-raw in love with Jericho Barrons. — Karen Marie Moning

You're grumpy and broody and secretive all the time. You're no joy to live with, I can tell you that!"
"I smile sometimes. I even laughed about your ... hat."
"MacHalo," I corrected tightly. "It's a brilliant invention, and it means I don't need you or V'lane to keep my safe from Shades, and that, Jericho Barrons, is worth its weight in gold: not needing either of you for something! — Karen Marie Moning

Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain ... Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering. That's the hard thing. — Karen Marie Moning

The four Keltar Druids brought their wives and children. They breed like it's their personal mission to populate their country in case somebody attacks again, as if anybody wants the bloody place. — Karen Marie Moning

The corners of his mouth twitched then he gave up the ghost and just flashed me one of those rare, full-on smiles that always made me catch my breath and stare. He's so damn beautiful and his smiles are sunshine in a black velvet sky, improbable and stunning. — Karen Marie Moning

You have me in your mouth, you don't get anybody else. Or you don't get me. - Jericho Barrons — Karen Marie Moning

I want to be Jericho Barrons when I grow up. — Karen Marie Moning

Barrons, Jericho: I haven't the faintest fecking clue. He keeps saving my life. I suppose that's something. — Karen Marie Moning

If he'd been any other man and i'd been any other girl, I'd have called the narrowing of his heavy-lidded dark eyes lust. But he was Barrons and I was Mac, and a blossoming of lust was about as likely as orchids blooming in Antarctica — Karen Marie Moning

He moves in, standing close without touching. He doesn't need to. I sometimes think our atoms are so glad to see each other that they send little messengers back and forth, ferrying desire, strength, and love between the islands we are. — Karen Marie Moning

And here we go. She's bristling and my hackles go up. Bloody hell, I feel fangs coming on. Tell you what, Ms. Lane," Barrons said softly, "Anytime you want to have a conversation with me, leave the myriad issues you have with wanting to fuck me every time you look at me outside my cave, come on in, and see what you find. You might like it. — Karen Marie Moning

Barrons's hold tightened further. "Give me one good reason not to kill him. Ms. Lane," he growled roughly around thick, long black fangs. "Because I asked you not to, Barrons. That's good enough. You killed the other princes, and I was grateful. I wasn't ready then. I was still afraid of what I'd become. But this last prince is mine to kill or not to kill. And I say no. At the moment. And although Cruce is incapable of understanding that word, I know you know that a no from me means no. And you will honor it," I said in a voice that brooked no resistance. It was one of the defining differences between the two proud, dark, violent males. And if he didn't honor it, he wasn't the man I believed he was. — Karen Marie Moning

Try a rocket launcher. Think maybe you could manage to hit me with that? — Karen Marie Moning

What I know, brother, is you break every goddamned rule for Mac."
"Back at you, Ry. Difference is, I'll help you do it."
"Lor has never been Pri-ya." Ryodan shakes his head in disgust. "The princess can't turn us. Son of a bitch, Mac's ass is - "
"Mine," Barrons says flatly. "You will never go there. You have a problem with Mac, you work it out with me. I am her shield, I am her second fucking skin. — Karen Marie Moning

Do you think a woman can give a man everything while still withholding her heart? We are not made that way! - Fiona — Karen Marie Moning

I looked him up and down. Once before I'd seen Jericho Barrons wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It's like sheet-metaling a W16 Bugatti Veyron engine - all 1,001 horsepower of it - with the body of a '65 Shelby. The height of sophisticated power sporting in-your-face, fuck-you muscle. The effect is disturbing.
He had more tattoos now than he'd had a few days ago.when I'd last seen him wearing nothing but a sheen of sweat, his arms were unmarked. They were now sleeved in intricate crimson and black designs, from bicep to hand. A silver cuff gleamed in his wrist. There were chains on his boots.
"Slumming, huh?" I'd said
You should talk, said those dark eyes, as they swept my black leather ensemble. — Karen Marie Moning

In bed, I steal moments of tenderness when sex has finally exhausted me to the point where I'm too bone weary to fret anymore about the enormous capacity for evil that's taken up squatter's rights inside me. I touch him, put all those things I don't say into my hands as I trace the red and black tattoos on his skin, the sharp planes and hollows of his face, bury my hands in his dark hair. He watches me in silence when I do, eyes dark, unfathomable.
I sometimes wake up to find he's pulled me close to him and is holding me, spooned into my back with his face in my hair, and those hands that don't speak like mine don't speak move over my skin and tell me I'm cherished, honored, seen. — Karen Marie Moning

He calls me his Queen of the Night. He shows me the wonders in this incredible city. He encourages me to find my own way, and to choose what I think is right or wrong.
And the sex, God, the sex! I never knew what sex was until him! It's not soft music and candlelight, a choice, a deliberate action.
It's as involuntary as breathing, and as impossible not to do. It's slammed up against a wall in a dark alley, or flat on my back on cold concrete because I can't stand one more second without him. It's on my hands and knees, dry-mouthed, heart-in-my-throat, waiting for the moment he touches me, and I'm alive again. It's punishing and purifying, velvet and violent, and it makes everything else melt away, until nothing matters but getting him inside me and I wouldn't just die for him - I'd kill for him, too.
Like I did tonight. — Karen Marie Moning