Palmed Quotes & Sayings

What makes you think I'm gay or bi?" God asked avoiding Day's request. "Really? Maybe it's this that makes me think that." Day boldly palmed and squeezed God's rock-hard erection. "Fuck," he hissed. God — A.E. Via

Because of meat."
"It's for his tiger," said the cook.
Arin palmed his face, eyes squeezed shut. "Your tiger."
"He's very particular," said Roshar.
"You can't bring the tiger to the banquet. — Marie Rutkoski

He leaned closer and she swallowed the rest of her words as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. She stared back at him, stunned, her heart thudding against her breastbone. He palmed the nape of her neck, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth this time, turning her legs to jelly.
She pressed her body against his, her skin on fire, desire beating a tattoo through her veins. His tongue stroked hers gently, provocatively, and she reached out and gripped his shoulders with both hands.
After a long, long moment he drew back. "Come home with me?" he asked very quietly, his voice a low husk.
Dear God, I thought you'd never ask. — Sarah Mayberry

There is something I've been meaning to ask you," she said as she handed Zack a bratwurst. It was a little awkward, but if Zack was the man she was going to marry, she needed to know what she was getting into. "Yes?" "That story about the fish. Is it true?" Zack's grin was roguish. "I don't know. What have you heard?" "Something about a hundred pounds of fish dumped on a merchant's fancy desk. Is it true?" Zack took a large bite of his sausage and watched her through laughing eyes as he chewed. How could she consort with a man with such a shocking reputation? She was a safety-and-security girl, and Zack was an untamed force of nature. He finished chewing and sent her a wicked grin. "It was trout," he said proudly. "And we've never had substandard fish palmed off on us since. — Elizabeth Camden

Hatred was easy. The permutations constant over the years: A stranger at a fair who palmed my crotch through my shorts. A man on the sidewalk who lunged at me, then laughed when I flinched. The night an older man took me to a fancy restaurant when I wasn't even old enough to like oysters. Not yet twenty. The owner joined our table, and so did a famous filmmaker. The men fell into a heated discussion with no entry point for me: I fidgeted with my heavy cloth napkin, drank water. Staring at the wall.

"Eat your vegetables," the filmmaker suddenly snapped at me. "You're a growing girl."

The filmmaker wanted me to know what I already knew: I had no power. He saw my need and used it against me. — Emma Cline

A few minutes later, John got up, put his clothes back on, palmed his liquor bottle, and left.
As the door clicked shut, Xhex pulled the duvet over herself.
She did nothing to try to control the shakes that rattled her body, and didn't attempt to stop herself from crying. Tears left both of her eyes at the far corners, slipping out and flowing over her temples. Some landed in her ears. Some eased down her neck and were absorbed by the pillow. Others clouded her vision, as if they didn't want to leave home.
Feeling ridiculous, she put her hands to her face and captured them as best she could, wiping them on the duvet.
She cried for hours.
Alone. — J.R. Ward

God squeezed Day and held him close as he shot his first jet of come. God growled deep in his throat with his teeth still latched on to Day's throat. He stopped biting only to pull the tender flesh into his mouth and suck as hard as he could until he stopped coming inside Day's spasming hole. God stilled and caught his breath, his cock still buried inside his lover. He felt Day lick at the sweat on his neck and unhook his legs from around his back. God slid his hands down Day's back and palmed both of his ass cheeks, lifting him off his cock. Day hissed, and God gently laid him back down on the damp sheets. God was exhausted. He removed the condom and dropped it in the wastebasket beside the bed before dropping down beside Day. "You — A.E. Via

Rough fingers palmed his throat. "Can you forget that, amante?" Soft kisses brushed his forehead, nose and eyes. "I can't. I dare you to try." Pagan moved away, taking his heat with him. — Avril Ashton

AMERICAN HERO
The man stepped right up, feet on top of a case of bottled beer. He placed his neck into a rope noose that was strung from the light fixture. He pulled it tight and leaped to the floor.

He hung for less than a minute, thinking nothing but the pain as he spun slowly in a circle; the spots in his eyes were bright red when he took a palmed razor blade and cut the rope, falling chest-first into the kitchen sink.

Then he packed his lunch for work. — Bill Shields

Baby, you keep doing that and we are going to need Giana to get her ass in here to take care of baby girl." He palmed my ass.
"Giana is already here." She knocked on the counter behind us.
"Thank you, Jesus!" Though, Chris pronounced it Hey-Seuss.
Bending, he lifted me onto his shoulder and took long strides to the staircase. — Sadie Grubor

He laughed, the sound so sweet to her ears because he rarely seemed to do it. "I think it's time I got you fed." He reached a hand down, palmed her ass before squeezing possessively. "Then I plan to eat you. Slowly. — Katie Reus

I hope you like big men, sweetness." My eyes dropped reflexively back to the hand still moving rhythmically between his legs; the blunt knob playing hide and seek as he lazily palmed himself. "Think you can handle all this? I guess we'll find out soon enough 'cause you're getting this cock, all of it, and you're gonna take every fucking inch. — Candace Vianna

He searched for my gaze and the second he found it, I cracked a smile. "There it is." He palmed his chest again and sighed. "All is right in the world again. — Shelly Crane

Gwen found herself in possession, coolly palmed in her thoughts like a dollar coin, of the idea that she was about to bring another abandoned son into the world, the son of an abandoned son. The heir to a history of disappointment and betrayal, violence, and loss. Centuries of loss, empires of disappointment. All the anger that Gwen had been feeling, not just today or over the past nine months but all her life
feeding on to it like a sun, using it to power her engines, to fund her stake in the American dream
struck her for the first time as a liability. As purely tragic. There was no way to partake of it without handing it on down the generations. — Michael Chabon

He palmed his cock and rubbed along the piercings first, pulling them just enough to make him throb. He hissed at the pain and then fought a groan as he imagined Prophet doing this to him . . . The glass door opened, the steam rushed out, and Prophet stood there, watching. Before Tom could say anything, Prophet ordered, "Don't stop now - jerk yourself, since you can't keep your hands off it." "Since when do you fucking tell me what to do?" Tom demanded crankily. Of course, he kept on sliding his hand up and down his cock, partly because fuck, it was good - better when ordered, sure - and partly because the look in Prophet's eyes as he watched Tom doing it was just . . . Fuck. Fuck yes. "Don't come though," Prophet told him casually, and look who had a second wind. "Until when?" Tom gritted his teeth and slowed himself down. "Until I say. Clear enough?" Tom — S.E. Jakes

She scrambled to her feet. She knew her sisters were eyeing her strangely, knew that what she was feeling was undisguised. Right then, she didn't care. She turned and ran for him. Bastian! Standing at the door, so tall and proud.
When he saw her, his lips parted, then he absently palmed the center of his chest.
As she hadn't slowed, he opened his arms - she knew what this meant - but she didn't hesitate to run into them, leaping up and latching onto him. They would have gone reeling if he weren't so strong.
The Valkyrie who'd flown down the stairs at the marked lightning saw her. All around them, she heard gasps. One muttered, "She ran to his arms. I saw it."
"Bastian, I missed you!" Kaderin whispered.
"God, I missed you, too," he murmured, clutching her. — Kresley Cole

Asher," she said, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back until he was lying on the bed and she was lying beside him. "Kiss me." Thanking God for yet another reprieve, he rolled on top of her, bracing on his elbows as he palmed her cheek with fierce tenderness. "You terrify me." She smiled, wiggling beneath him before pushing her pelvis up against his. "I'm harmless." "You're lethal." "I'm waiting." And then his mouth claimed hers, and she didn't have to wait anymore. — Katy Regnery

Jericho stopped him before he left. He slid the ring off his finger and handed it to him. "Take this."
Asmodeus curled his lip as he shrank back from it. "I'm not about to marry your ugly ass, boy. No offense, but you ain't my type. I like my dates with less body hair ... and with female parts attached by nature."
Jericho let out an aggravated growl. "It's not a wedding ring, asshole. It's Berith's ring. You get into trouble you can summon him to help you get out of there."
That completely changed his attitude. "Oh, hey, that could be worth an engagement to you." Asmodeus grinned as he palmed it. "If I'm back in a few hours ... well, I don't want to think about that. I might change my mind about doing this. I'm thinking happy thoughts. Creamed dog innards and rotten steak. Yeah. Yum." He vanished. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I grinned at Jessica James's backside as she walked away because she had a big old brown grease stain on the left side of her skirt where I'd palmed her ass.
"Damn, Duane, you got big hands."Cletus sauntered up next to me, wiping his own hands on a rag.
My grin became a frown and I shot my brother a look. "Don't be looking at Jess's ass."
I'm not looking at her ass. I remind you sir, she is my calculus teacher." Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica's departing form. "I'm looking at the palm print on her ass. — Penny Reid

To burn a CDR of music you like to give as a gift to someone you wish to become closer to is a cold, moist-palmed, mouth-breathing bummer. — Henry Rollins

Mr. Wilson, writing long before he became President, also knew how it came about that this Constitution, which the rich men of the eighteenth century created for the benefit of themselves and their class, was eventually palmed off as a great instrument for popular rule. Concerted, energetic means were taken by the rich men of the day to change public opinion, which, from the beginning, had been hostile to the Constitution. As the result of such efforts, said Mr. Wilson, 1 criticism of the Constitution " soon gave place to an undiscriminating and almost blind worship of its principles — Anonymous

Don't talk. Don't sputter out a solitary protest or it will be your last. Take me to them."

"Who the f**k are you?"

He palmed the man's forehead and slammed his skull against the wall. "I said don't talk, and you want to do as I say. I'm the one thing monsters like you and your kind fear. I'm what haunts your nightmares and hunts you in the darkness. — G.S. Jennsen

This might sound like a dream for a seventeen-year-old boy, and I won't deny enjoying the attention, but professionally it was a nightmare. My game began to unravel. I caught myself thinking about how I looked thinking instead of losing myself in thought. The Grandmasters, my elders, were ignored and scowled at me. Some of them treated me like a pariah. I had won eight national championships and had more fans, public support and recognition than I could dream of, but none of this was helping my search for excellence, let alone for happiness. At a young age I came to know that there is something profoundly hollow about the nature of fame. I had spent my life devoted to artistic growth and was used to the sweaty-palmed sense of contentment one gets after many hours of intense reflection. This peaceful feeling had nothing to do with external adulation, and I yearned for a return to that innocent, fertile time. I missed just being a student of the game, — Josh Waitzkin

Phantasm, a pink-palmed jinn, a ghost from one of the drowned cities. — Diana Abu-Jaber

Move along," Hines said. "Last room down."
I spotted a fish tank halfway down the aisle. Dug into my pocket.
"Hi," I whispered. "Distraction in five. Four. Three ... "
I broke off as we neared the tank.
Hi spun. "Yo, warden. When do we eat around here? I'm hypoglycemic, plus I've got a hernia. And rabies simplex D. Basically, I need a ton of pills or my arms will fall off."
"Boy, you're on my last nerve."
As Hines glared at Hiram, I palmed the flash drive and dumped it into the fish tank. The yellow-and-black rectangle tumbled to the bottom.
So long, friend. Let's hope Shelton's email went through.
"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being very insensitive."
Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"
"Kinda."
"Hi." I nodded. — Kathy Reichs

I was not a classic mother. But my kids were never palmed off to boarding school. So, I didn't bake cookies. You can buy cookies, but you can't buy love. — Raquel Welch

One spring morning timing the lean near-liquid progress of a horse on a track, the dust exploding, the rapid hasping of his hocks, coming up the straight foreshortened and awobble and passing elongate and birdlike wish harsh breaths and slatted brisket heaving and the muscles sliding and brunching in clocklike flexion under the wet black hide and a gout of foam hung from the long jaw and then gone in a muted hoofclatter, the aging magistrate snapped his thumb from the keep of the stopwatch he held and palmed it into his waistcoat pocket and looking at nothing, nor child nor horse, said anent that simple comparison of rotary motions and in the oratory to which he was prone that they had witnessed a thing against which time would not prevail. — Cormac McCarthy

You feel like heaven," he whispered against my lips as he palmed my breast brazenly. "And you taste like sin. I'm drunk on you, Rachel. — Ginger Voight

And then it hits me like a fast, open-palmed, stinging smack in the face.
Having a ghost boyfriend
WAS
weird — Lisa Schroeder

Dex gasped, his back arching at the feel of strong hands kneading his ass cheeks, pushing them apart as the head of his lover's slick cock aligned itself then pushed in slowly, the pressure both painful and exhilarating. God, it had been too long. Dex palmed his erection as he was entered, his lover burying deep inside him inch by inch. Hard muscles pressed up against his back, lowering Dex onto the mattress, his breath coming out ragged as his lover buried himself to the root and started rotating his hips, drawing out then pushing back in painfully slow. Dex moaned, his stomach filled with butterflies, the anticipation building like nothing he'd ever felt before. His whole body was on fire, and he writhed with need beneath the deliciously heavy weight. He couldn't remember Lou feeling like this. Had it always felt this damn good? Dex moaned when lips pressed against his skin beneath his ear. "Easy there, Rookie." Dex's — Charlie Cochet

Nothing seems to please a fly so much as to be taken for a currant; and if it can be baked in a cake and palmed off on the unwary, it dies happy. — Mark Twain

Now, you fuckers," I said as I rolled my head around my shoulders and palmed some knives. "Let me introduce myself. — Jeaniene Frost

I fixed your car," he said, tossing the keys from a jade dish on the little maple end table.
I palmed them and eyed him speculatively. "You fixed my car?"
"I have walked the earth for more than a century. I managed to pick up some skills along the way," he said, before reluctantly adding, "and one of them is finding skilled mechanics."
I smirked, leaning against the wall. "You almost had me there."
"I supervised," he insisted. — Molly Harper

And what is love, Angel? What is love! he yelled. Is it a pressure inside that makes me want to scream when you do this? he palmed his chest roughly, Is it my body in constant chaos when you're around me? Is it murder in cold blood when I even think of you being with anybody but me! he roared. Or maybe it's not being able to think or speak when your life is in danger, or wanting to spend every second - of every - fucking day with you, wanting to never leave your side. Is that love? Is it, Isadore? He drew closer and hit his fist repeatedly against his chest. Is it pain so hard and heavy that I can't fucking breathe unless I smell you, touch you, taste you? His body heaved as his bright green gaze seared her heart. Because if it is, Angel...he held his lips together and shook his head slowly, then I am....slain with an eternal and violent love for you. — Lucian Bane

All that are printed and bound are not books; they do not necessarily belong to letters, but are oftener to be ranked with the other luxuries and appendages of civilized life. Base wares are palmed off under a thousand disguises. — Henry David Thoreau

She set down the glass, palmed the — Lisa Scottoline

I love you so much, Shay Brandenberger. I want you to be my wife because you choose to be, not because of some cockamamie accident. I want to love you the rest of your life. I want to be a father for Olivia . . ." He reached out and palmed the side of her belly, a tiny smile hitching up his lips. "A father for our child. — Denise Hunter

If the Son was begotten by the Holy Ghost, it would be very dangerous to baptize and confirm females, and give the Holy Ghost to them, lest he should beget children, to be palmed upon the Elders by the people, bringing the Elders into great difficulties — Brigham Young

He was dreaming about wee Roger, who for some reason was a grown man now, but still holding his tiny blue bear, minuscule in a broad-palmed grasp. His son was speaking to him in Gaelic, saying something urgent that he couldn't understand, and he was growing frustrated, telling Roger over and over for Christ's sake to speak English, couldn't he? — Diana Gabaldon

I palmed each side of her face and dropped my forehead to hers. "I love you. I love you. I love you. — Aly Martinez

He palmed up the life Alert. Death Alert was more like it: Help, I haven't fallen and I'm standing up-can you come and rectify this problem? - Isaac — J.R. Ward