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Yanking his inner manwhore back to the land of polite conversating, he forced his hands to stop

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Yanking
Polite
Forced
Inner
Land
Stop
Hands
Back

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Sometimes words were less valuable than the air that carried them when it came to getting close.
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You are a manipulator. I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer.
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He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.
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But Tudor mansions on manicured grounds didn't look right with their grand front doors wide open to the night. It was like a debutante flashing her bra thanks to a wardrobe malfunction.
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You are so beautiful, he mouthed. But of course she couldn’t see his lips. Guess he was going to have to show her.
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Too late Bella. Now, it's too late. Show me.
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I am very comfortable with conflict, be it of the legal or mortal kind. My father was a mediator, a bridge maker. I am a grave maker.
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Still, it would have been great, just once, to have a man stare at her with total adoration. To have him be... enthralled. Yes, that was the word. She would have loved for a man to be enthralled by her.
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You're the reason I get out of bed every night. And you're the reason I can't wait to come home every dawn. Not the war. Not the Brothers. Not even Butch. It's...you.
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You never realized how thick your fog was until it lifted.
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Gallows humor is part of having a doctor in the house. Deal with it.
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[...]you know what they say about messengers, right? Excuse me? Too much bad news will get you shot.[...]
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Destiny had a 518 area code..who knew. - Ehlena
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You want to poof it or ride back with me?
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The warrior (Zsadist) rolled his black eyes. Come on, man. What does it matter to me? You, Tohr. Britney Spears.
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You are in a prison with no bars. I worry about you.
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In his fantasy, he kissed his best friend again, pulled back, and… “I love you,” he said into the spray of the shower. “I… love you.” As he closed his eyes against the pain, it was hard to know how much of what ran down his cheeks was water, and how much was something else.
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[Devina] “You know, Adrian, you ever get bored with being a Goody Two-shoes, you could come over to my side.” “Because you have cookies, right.” Those black eyes returned to his own. “And so much more.” “Well, I’m on a diet. Sorry—but thanks for the invite.
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My twin's not broken. He's ruined. Do you understand the difference? With broken maybe you can fix him. Ruined? All you can do is wait to bury him.
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If sex were food, Rhage would have been morbidly obese.
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