Quotes & Sayings About Tanned Skin

He was still a kid inside. His body had grown, stretched, towered, tanned its skin, hardened its muscle, darkened its tawny shock of long hair, tightened its lines around jaw and eyes, thickened fingers and knuckles, but the brain didn't feel as if it had grown in sympathy with the rest. It was still green, full of tall, lush oaks and elms in summer; a creek ran through it, and the kids climbed around on its convolutions shouting, This way, gang - we'll take a short-cut and head them off at Dead Man's Gulch! — Ray Bradbury

The most she could hope for was the chance to run away and let her love die a slow, natural death.

"Go to Hell," she said.

"Not without you." His sexy mouth tipped into a boyish grin, white teeth gleaming against tanned skin. — Aleah Barley

I don't think sun-tanned skin is any more attractive than white skin, or any healthier, for that matter — Marilyn Monroe

Merripen emerged from a hallway leading away from the entrance room. He was in his shirtsleeves with no collar or cravat, the neck of the garment hanging open to reveal tanned skin gleaming with perspiration. With his black hair falling over his forehead, and his dark eyes smiling at the sight of them, Merripen cut a dashing figure. "You're three hours behind schedule," he said.
Laughing, Amelia pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and gave it to him. "In a family of four sisters, there is no schedule. — Lisa Kleypas

Kaden leaned against the doorframe, running his fingers through his dark hair. He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. His upper body was tanned and cut to perfection. A sparse patch of dark hair covered the center of his chest while a thin line ran down the middle of his stomach muscles. Oh, sweet baby Jesus, his stomach. She'd seen professional athletes on television with an eight-pack but hadn't thought normal people could actually achieve them. Her fingertips tingled with the urge to run her fingers over each of his pecs. — Stacey O'Neale

Tally yanked her hand away and stuck it behind her back. "God. I am so sorry." She'd touched him. Felt the heat of his tanned skin, felt the crisp hairs at his groin ... felt ... oh, man.
"Nice try, but no cigar. Want to go for two out of three?"
Tally closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "Oh, this day just gets better and better."
"It's certainly looking up for me." With an amused glance, the pirate hitched his shorts back over the sharp angle of his hipbones. There'd been so sign of a tan line. — Cherry Adair

Turning Lillian to face him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll procure the necessary items, and work out the proportions," he said. His expression was sober, but his dark eyes were warm as they gazed into hers. "In the meanwhile, I will leave the situation in your capable hands."
Tenderly Lillian traced the edge of his shirt collar, letting her fingertip touch the tanned skin of his throat. "You'd better hurry. If St. Vincent wakes to find himself at my mercy, he'll probably expire on the spot."
They exchanged a brief grin and Westcliff left the room. "Arrogant, high-handed creature," Lillian remarked, her smile lingering as she watched the earl's departure. "God, I adore him. — Lisa Kleypas

The best beauty advice I ever received is to keep skin hydrated and limit harsh exposure to the sun. If you are set on the tanned look, there are plenty of great creams that will give you a healthy-looking glow. — Erica Durance

Do you need me to take your temperature?" "What?" What the hell was he talking about? "What are you - " The words died on his lips, and his jaw dropped when Dex stepped into the doorway. "I said, do you need me to check your temperature, Mr. Brodie?" "Sweet Jesus." It took some effort for Sloane to close his mouth, but eventually he managed it. Dex strutted into the room dressed in nurse's scrubs made of white latex so tight it was all but painted on his body. The V-neck top exposed his collarbone and emphasized the curve of every muscle, from his lean sculpted torso, to his muscular legs, and the prominent outline of his hard dick. The white was a stark contrast against his tanned skin. Holy hell, his partner looked like something out of a porn magazine. Wait. — Charlie Cochet

I followed the older woman out to the foyer. Taking the stairs, I scanned each painting that lined the walls. I stilled as I found a portrait that could only have been Nathaniel. He looked young and brash, no more than fifteen. His suit was painted in a regal colour, it set off his tanned skin and sky blue eyes.
"Handsome devil was he not?" Bess chuckled. "Or should I say, 'is he not'?"
I fought the urge to blush as I trailed after the housekeeper. — Freedom Matthews

His skin's so tanned he could be Turkish or something — David Mitchell

A tanned skin is something more than respectable, and perhaps olive is a fitter color than white for a man,
a denizen of the woods. "The pale white man!" I do not wonder that the African pitied him. — Henry David Thoreau

Tall, way taller than her five foot five frame, his body bulged with muscles covered in tanned skin. He possessed layered down brown hair with gold highlights, vivid turquoise eyes and chiseled features, including a strong straight nose
surprising because with a taunting mouth like his she expected he'd gotten it broken more than once in his life
a square chin, and wickedly full lips that now quirked into a grin.
-"Enjoying the view?" he taunted.
-"Deciding what part to carve off your body first," she replied."Do you have a name by the way? Or should I just refer to you as 'that asshole'?"
-"You can call me Remy, but when I get your thighs around my neck, feel free to call me God. It totally pisses Lucifer's brother off, which means brownie points for me. — Eve Langlais

And he has to be handsome, unbelievably handsome, impossibly handsome with a strong, square jaw and powerful cheekbones and tanned skin and beautiful eyes with lush, thick lashes. He has to be clever and very wealthy but hard-working. He has to be virile, fierce, ruthless and rugged. — Kristen Ashley

For the first time, she studied Nick's face. Lowered eyelids hid his beautiful green eyes, making his long lashes stand out against his cheeks. He had the kind of fair skin that freckled and then tanned only after repeated days in the sun. His jaw rested on the violin. Without his hat, she noted his prominent cheekbones. The bump on his nose gave his face character, and she wondered how he'd broken it. — Debra Holland

He wore jeans and a thin white singlet which clung to his broad chest. His tanned biceps bunched as he hammered away, and his skin glowed with perspiration under the warm sun. Harriet's mouth went bone-dry. A rush of heat boiled over her, licking her skin, surging inside her breasts, her thighs. Her response was instantaneous. She had no control over it. One look at Adam's body and desire ignited in her. — Coleen Kwan

Looking down she arched her back, giving him more. His tanned complexion against her milky, slightly freckled skin was visually stark and sexually exciting. She watched as his mouth claimed her other nipple, stroking it with his tongue, and her vision blurred as he rhythmically rocked his erection against her sex.
Hot, damp, desperate, she braced herself with her hands on his knees behind her and met him thrust for thrust, pushing hard. Breathing as heavy as he was, she trembled with the flash fire of passion overtaking them both. — Jennifer St. Giles

There were some things that hadn't changed about Sydney, like her light-brown hair that had just enough natural curl to make it look like waves of caramel icing on a cake. And her beautiful lightly tanned skin. And the freckles across her nose. She'd lost weight but still had a stunning figure, petite in a way that always made Claire, who was four inches taller, feel heavy and clumsy. — Sarah Addison Allen

She was considered timid and morose. Only in the country, her skin tanned by the sun and her belly full of ripe fruit, running through the fields with Pedro Tercero, was she smiling and happy. Her mother said that that was the real Blanca, and that the other one, the one back in the city, was a Blanca in hibernation. — Isabel Allende

I found Ivanka in the same place, gazing at the hill and jumping up and down. I had never seen her so excited, and chills went through my body when she turned to look at me. Her normally-tanned skin looked as pale as milk, and her eyes were radiant. "Look now, please!" she begged. I slowly turned and looked up at the hill. When I saw the figure, my heart whirled with fear and wonder but my brain struggled to process it. No one ever climbed that hill, but what I saw was unmistakable - there, among the rocks and brambles, was a young woman. — Mirjana Soldo

the sun had tanned her so that the rich velvety blackness of her skin glistened and she felt so much herself on those days of Carnival, soaked so deeply with a sense of her own beauty, that after the festival, she continued to keep her hair in the same fashion and wear her skin with the same pride, the result being that men took her for a foreign woman — Earl Lovelace

He looks a bit like Robert Pattinson - if you genetically spliced him with Buzz Lightyear. He has dark, quiffy hair and wide-spaced eyes, though his skin is tanned as opposed to diamond sparkly white. He has a very square jaw with a dimple in the center of his chin but alas no jet
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THE SOUND
SARAH ALDERSON
pack. I note that his eyebrow is cocked and the smile on his face is half sneer, half smirk as if he's laughing at Eliza but she doesn't seem to realize.
I shake my head. I'm making a lot of assumptions here and the only two that I can safely claim are true are the ones about him being neither a vampire nor a space ranger. — Sarah Alderson

Magnus? Magnus Bane?"
"That would be me." The man blocking the doorway was as tall and thin as a rail, his hair a crown of dense back spikes. Clary guessed from the curse of his sleepy eyes and the gold tone of his evenly tanned skin that he was part Asian. He wore jeans and a black shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a raccoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked a ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded them thoughtfully. "Children of the Nephilim," he said. "Well, well. I don't recall inviting you. I must have been drunk. — Cassandra Clare

It doesn't matter what she looks like. It doesn't matter if she's long or short legged. It doesn't matter if she's pale or tanned, if her hair is black or brown or red or blond. It doesn't matter if she's pretty or not. It matters that she feels the sun on her skin. — Nicola Yoon

I went through a real punk stage-I had braids, red hair, pink hair, green hair, I cut it into a Mohawk, the lot. Then about five years ago, I dyed it dark and stayed out of the sun to get pale, because I hated looking like everyone else, all blonde hair and tanned skin. — Katie McGrath

He gripped her hips, and standing up, slowly pushed volumes of silk with him. Blue fabric puffed and pillowed between them. His hand traced a slow caress the length of her from knee to hip. Edward's nostrils flared, as did his eyes, when his roving hand slipped behind her, grappling bare skin. She quivered from tantalizing male touch exploring forbidden flesh. Lydia read Edward's face, the flush of tanned skin and mouth unable to close, as knowledge seeped into his brain: she'd said her vows, eaten dinner with the utmost decorum, and chattered politely with all and sundry in this secret state of undress. Edward groaned and jammed her body hard against his. "You're naked under your skirt. — Gina Conkle

They were average specimens of national manhood, slim and gaunt with deeply tanned skin from riding in jeeps and on motorcycles. — Viet Thanh Nguyen

My father is standing at the sink wearing a too-tight long-sleeved red T-Shirt, a pair of too-high jeans and sporting the type of orange glow that belongs only on Chernobyl victims. Plus his hair looks like an oil spill.
'Hey you,' he says, washing what looks to be some carrots under the sink. Are they carrots or are they parsnips reflecting the sheen of my father's tangerine skin? Hard to tell.
'You've fake tanned yourself again,' I say - it's a statement, not a question. 'Too much?' he says, innocently. 'I just didn't want to be one of those pasty office workers and I thought it wouldn't hurt to back up last week's application with another hit.'
'Dad, you look-'
'Sun kissed?'
'Radioactive. And what the hell happened to your hands?'
- Cat — Rebecca Sparrow

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

We spent afternoons kicking around in the sand, picking through the seaweed for shells, making headdresses of washed-up fishing ropes and hats from Styrofoam cups. Beach rats, we were called.

We stopped brushing our hair, and it hung in tangles spun by the salt air. We sprayed Sun-In across our heads and let it turn our hair orange in patches. Our skin peeled, and we didn't much care.

We woke up to the feel of sand in our sheets. We covered ourselves in baby oil and iodine and let the sun bake our skin. We smelled like Love's Baby Soft perfume, like summer all year long. We were tanned, with freckles across our noses. — Ilie Ruby

He had sleepless eyes, his mouth a little swollen, the deeply tanned skin somehow burnished. Kestrel thought that she, too, must look like this: polished by desire, the way a river stone holds a luster from having been made so smooth. — Marie Rutkoski