Quotes About Intimacy

The only person I trust with all that I am and all that could be, Heiress, is you.

He gently traced the line of my jaw. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. You have my word." He thought he could protect me. He wanted to. He was touching me, and all I wanted was to let him. Let him protect me. Let him touch me.

Casey was in the bed with Ali. And that was where I drew the line. Because eww.

Hands reached past me to turn on the faucet. I should have jumped. I should have panicked. But somehow, my body relaxed into the person behind me.

Before I could get the word daughter out, Grayson leaned his head down and crushed his lips to mine. He kissed me to save me from what I'd been about to say. For a small eternity, nothing in the world existed outside of that kiss. His lips. Mine. For show.

Because this was our game - yours and mine - before it was anyone else's. Because when you and I kiss, you feel it, the same way I do.

Before, I liked cars, yachts, a door locked from the inside, and you. :)

something about the curve of his lips was more intimate than any touch.

It was always going to be you," I told Jameson. He needed to hear it. I needed to say it, even though always painted over so much. In response, Jameson gave me another crooked smile. "It's times like this, Heiress, that I wish I'd fallen in love with a girl who wasn't quite so good at bluffing.

Jameson bringing me closer to Grayson instead of pushing me away. I held the picture out, and Grayson's fingers brushed mine as he took it.

My right hand holding the blue-green glass, I dropped the towel with my left and reached for him. "Don't," Grayson breathed. He turned to walk past me. "I told you once before, Avery: I'm broken. I won't break you, too. Go back to bed. Forget about that piece of glass and whatever else was in that bag. Stop playing the old man's games"... That felt final in a way that nothing else between us ever had.

Libby moved toward Nash and took his phone from his pocket. There was something intimate about the action--the way he let her, the way she knew he would.

I know that Jamie loves you." Grayson looked at me the way you look at art in a glass case, like he wanted to reach out to touch me but couldn't. "And I've seen the way that you look at him, the way the two of you are together. You're in love with my brother, Avery." He paused. "Tell me you're not

He brought his hands to the side my face, then the back of my neck, and I felt his touch through every square inch of my body. "I love you. I would die to protect you. I would make you hate me to keep you safe because damn it, Avery - some things are too precious to gamble.

I wanted Eve to be different," Grayson told me. "I wanted her to be you." "Don't say that," I whispered... "There are so many things that I will never say.

Do you trust me?" I was standing in a phone-lit passageway, close enough to feel his body's heat on mine. "Absolutely not." "Good." He reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled me close. "Hold on.

I didn't want to think about anything, so I kissed the boy. This time it wasn't rough or frantic. It was gentle and slow and terrifying and perfect . And for once in my life, I didn't feel alone.

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne loved me. He loved me, and I loved him.

I never got the chance to finish that sentence, because the next thing I knew, Mrs. Laughlin was hugging me, holding on to me for dear life.

Mama and I are curled up, pressed against each other like twin commas.

Even when we weren't wandering, even from the floor of your closet, you showed the world to me.

It's about the important things, like the way their face lights up when they laugh, or the way they move as they're walking towards you, or the way their freckles create a map of the stars.

And then she kisses me. It's the kind of kiss that makes me lose track of everything, and so it may take hours or minutes by the time we break apart.

I skim through our notebook, thick with words, and then through our Facebook messages—so many now—and then I write a new one, quoting Virginia Woolf: "Let us wander whirling to the gilt chairs.… Are we not acceptable, moon? Are we not lovely sitting together here Ã¢â'¬Â¦?