Quotes About Romance

You know what you are, Sam Brody? she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. A big, fat tease. They both knew there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. They also both knew exactly what she meant.

She whipped around and found Hud standing there staring at her. He was in ski patrol gear today, looking official. And officially hot.

There were some men who just knew how to kiss, the kind of kiss that could send a woman reeling. The kind of kiss that could take away problems and awareness and … and everything. The kind of kiss that could shatter her into a trillion little pieces. The kind of kiss that somehow both calmed her body and soul even as it wound her up for more. Aidan was that kind of kisser.

Fifty Shades of Grey is only romantic because the guy's a billionaire. If he was living in a trailer, it'd be a Criminal Minds episode.

He made it hard for a girl to not fall head over heels.

With a soft laugh that turned her on even more, he brushed one last kiss to her temple. Lock up, Willa. Dream of me. And she knew she would.

The kiss ignited like a rocket flash. Not that this surprised her. Everything pertaining to Mark seemed to burn hot and fast. Frustration, lust… His mouth was rough, hot and hungry on hers as he pulled her closer, taking control. She heard herself moan, kissing him with helpless desperation. If dessert was her usual drug of choice, it'd just been replaced because she couldn't seem to get enough of him.

Wrapping his hand up in her ponytail, he gently but firmly tugged until she lifted her face to his. "If I'm going to be in your bed, Sophie, you're mine for the duration.

Her fingers danced over the sculpted landscape of his sleek back and then came around to his chest, where she could once again feel the beat of his heart, not nearly so steady now.

Half the people in Lucky Harbor were in love with him. The other half were men and didn't count.

I took one look at you," Hud said to Bailey, "and control went flying out the window. You tore down the brick wall around my heart one smile at a time.

The kiss started out gentle, but quickly got serious and not so gentle. His lips parted hers, their tongues touched, and she heard herself moan. His hot mouth left hers and made its way along her jaw, her throat, where he planted open-mouthed kisses that made her shiver for more. If she hadn't been sitting, her knees wouldn't have held her up, because he kissed away her annoyance, her good sense, any ability to think, everything.

What else?" With a shiver, she tightened her grip on his hair. He didn't care if she made him bald, as long as she didn't let go. "That you know my sweet spots." "You're one big, sweet spot.

I'm not really into hurrying," he said. "What are you into?" "Slow. Long. Hard. Hot. Dirty…" His teeth sank into her earlobe. "You still in?

At her touch, he froze. Still turned away from her, he tipped his head back, eyes closed, and said her name in a low, husky, desire-filled whisper.

Scary movies and books were too much for her—she read only romance.

The kiss was hot and wet and deep and amazing, and by the time he lifted his head from hers, she could hardly remember her point, much less her name.

So lost in her he couldn't remember his own name. Only hers…

It's crazy…" she whispered against his mouth, "what you do to me." "Tell me," he said. "Tell me what I do to you." "You look at me like I'm the best thing you've seen

I'm all sweaty," she said again, even as her hands fisted in his hair. "That's okay," he said silkily, his mouth brushing her temple. "We're going to get even more so.

What is it with you and the caveman thing?" she asked. And why, oh why, do I like it so much?

She stilled in the early-morning sun and slowly turned to face Parker, who'd followed her out. He wore his clothes with the same ease he'd worn nothing at all. And dammit, she really needed to stop thinking about that.

They took the elevator up with another couple who were lip locked for the entire ride. And not just lip locked but hand and leg locked too, really going to town, running their hands over each other like they were searching for ticks.

After high school, he'd purposefully gone for the sweet, girl-next-door type, because it would never last. Not when deep deep down he craved the edgy, tough, would-take-on-the-world-if-she-had-to type.