Romantic Take Me Back Quotes & Sayings

Hands still in the air, Jordan reached back and gently caressed her cheek. Dying for this woman would be no hardship. He'd die a thousand times over if it would take away her pain.
Since he had every intention of living a long and healthy life with Eden at his side, he sincerely hoped Noah was on his way and dying wouldn't be necessary. — Christy Reece

Come back to me, to my bed. Where we can make love. Every single night. For as long as we both shall live. That's the vow you made. Remember? Well, it's time to prove you meant it. Come back and stay. Forever. That's my offer. Take it or leave it. — Magda Alexander

He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice.
But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart
including your heart
and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while. — Deanna Raybourn

Benjamin felt himself on the verge of a proposal--with an effort he choked back the impulse. "You're just the
romantic age," she continued--"fifty. Twenty-five is too wordly-wise; thirty is apt to be pale from overwork;
forty is the age of long stories that take a whole cigar to tell; sixty is--oh, sixty is too near seventy; but fifty is
the mellow age. I love fifty. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Do you two know each other?" Jason asked.
She jerked her hand away, thankful Trent let go. "No."
"Yes," Trent said at the same time.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason take a few steps back. "Okay then. I'm going to catch up with Sharpe. When you two figure out whether you know each other or not, find me. — Savannah Stuart

[On writing more Sherlock Holmes stories.] 'I don't care whether you do or not,' said Bram. 'But you will, eventually. He's yours, till death do you part. Did you really think he was dead and gone when you wrote "The Final Problem"? I don't think you did. I think you always knew he'd be back. But whenever you take up your pen and continue, heed my advice. Don't bring him here. Don't bring Sherlock Holmes into the electric light. Leave him in the mysterious and romantic flicker of the gas lamp. He won't stand next to this, do you see? The glare would melt him away. He was more the man of our time than Oscar was. Or than we were. Leave him where he belongs, in the last days of our bygone century. Because in a hundred years, no one will care about me. Or you. Or Oscar. We stopped caring about Oscar years ago, and we were his bloody *friends.* No, what they'll remember are the stories. They'll remember Holmes. And Watson. And Dorian Gray. — Graham Moore

Oof!" Adam caught me all right, with the side of his head. I could tell by the feel of his skull on my foot as I kicked him. He grabbed me the best he could anyway, and we half landed, half fell in the pine needles.
He lay facedown on the ground. I flopped him over on his back to make sure he was alive. If he had a concussion, we'd have to call the ambulance, which meant we'd get caught and he'd get sent to military school.
On the bright side, maybe the military school would not take him if he had brain damage.
"I'm so sorry."
"Worth it," he grunted. He rolled onto his feet like a ninja and grabbed my hand.
"Hurry, before they release the hounds. — Jennifer Echols

It's too soon, too fast. We don't even know each other."
"Says who?" Ethan demanded. "Who decides how long it should take? Who makes the rules?"
Erica shrugged because she really didn't know it just seemed like common sense.
He put his index finger under her chin and swept his thumb just under her lower lip. "I do know you." He whispered. "I know you love chocolate and hate roses. I know you are kind and compassionate and generous. I know you feed the homeless and the stray cat that lives behind your apartment. I know you are a hopeless romantic. You are fiercely loyal." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I know you are ticklish; I know what makes you moan; I know what makes you squirm." He kissed her softly. "I know when I am with you I don't want to be anywhere else." He kissed her again and this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Their tongues tangled in a duel that left her breathless. — Melissa Hale

Will you go on a second date with me?"

"We're still in the middle of our first date, Zach. You can't just ask me that out of the blue."

"I already did, and I refuse to take it back."

"What if I don't like you by the end of this date?" I volley back.

"You honestly think that's possible?" His dimples poke through his smile, and I know right then I'm going to say yes. "Say yes, Delia. Be wild. Do something crazy and fun. — Teagan Hunter

She stood there, rooted to the spot, until he murmured, "Relax, this is all part of our cover."
His words were like ice water right in the face. He'd just kissed her as part of their cover. That brief brush over her lips and she didn't want to relax, she wanted to take all his clothes off. Peel that charcoal gray suit off him and kiss every inch of his ripped, naked body.
Instead of indulging in that insanity and getting arrested for public indecency - and tearing open old wounds - she took a small step back. Just like that, she could breathe again. — Katie Reus

I want to take you for pleasure, and hold you in my arms for desire. I want you to know that it is your kiss that I want, not another heir to the throne. You can know that I love you, quite for yourself, when I come to your bed, and not as the York's broodmare."
I tilt back my head and look at him under my eyelashes. "You think to bed me for love and not for children? Isn't that sin?"
His arm comes around my waist and his palm cups my breast. "I shall make sure that it feels richly sinful,"
- Edward IV to Elizabeth Woodville - — Philippa Gregory

Fuck," he murmured, his gaze tracking over her exposed chest and torso. "I was going to say this is going too fast."

"You sure about that?" she murmured.

"I don't want to take advantage," he continued, his voice strained as he sat up, staring down at her as if he didn't know where to start.

Reaching behind her back, she unsnapped her black bra and let it slide down her arms as she sat half up. "Then let me take advantage of you. — Katie Reus

You know when you mix butt and Angel in the same sentence, it becomes an insult," I say and take a big gulp from the can. With his back to me, he says, "Trust me, I would never dream of insulting your butt. I'm sure it's better than anything I'm cooking out here. — Rucy Ban

Okay, more disclosure. I'm not a fugitive at the moment, but I might become one. I don't know if I'm going back for a trial. I can't go to prison and leave the twins alone. We'll leave before it comes to that. I don't want to get you in trouble."
Hilda waved off the words. "I'm an old woman. They ain't gonna take me out of here in shackles. I've seen most of the local officers run around in diapers."
Luanne was pretty sure that didn't mean immunity. She'd seen Chase naked, and that hadn't stopped him from arresting her. She didn't tell that to Aunt Hilda. — Dana Marton

His smile is beautiful. It's the kind of smile that can take away all nervousness and tension in a room, no matter how big. I have no choice but to smile back. — S. Elle Cameron

So all I'm saying is take that tiara back out, place it on your head, and prance around like a goddess. Paint your face, paint those pictures, paint the entire world if that's what you
want. Leave your colorful mark in this school, and together, we'll wear our hearts on our sleeves and make the area explode with spouts of laughter. — Ayla Starr

Max was fascinated by the woman and more than a little curious about what she might be up to. Sarah Johnson had come from a two-parent, affluent home with a squeaky-clean past. She'd been the golden girl, high school cheerleader, valedictorian and had apparently glided through college without making a ripple, coming out with a bachelor of arts degree in literature. She'd married well, had six children and then one winter night, for some unknown reason, she'd driven her car into the Yellowstone River. Her body was never found. Because there were no skid marks on the highway, it had looked like a suicide. Foul play had never been suspected.
That was twenty-two years ago. Now she was back - with no memory of those years or why she'd apparently tried to take her own life.
Max wanted this story more than he wanted a hot cup of coffee this morning. — B. J. Daniels

What are you doing?'
If I texted back too soon, he would think I wasn't doing anything and then he would probably try to come over. I watched another episode before texting him again: 'Watching Kim K. shop for a dress. You?'
He texted back: 'Standing outside your door'.
Shit! — Whitney Gracia Williams