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As her eyes scanned his face, he feared that she saw everything, right down t the core of him. Where his obsession with her was the strongest. -Butch and Marissa

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Everything
Obsession
Right
Strongest
Core
Saws
Eyes
Face
Scanned
Faces
Butch
Eye
Feared

More quotes by J.R. Ward

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In the center was a tiny handprint in red paint.
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Wow, she breathed. I know, right? Hung like a horse. If you're really nice-and you live through this-I'll promise not to tell V. About my size. She laughed a little, No, that you assumed I'd look at you in any fashion other than professionally.
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When she didn't say anything more, he frowned, thinking this was the pair of them in a nutshell: Standing three feet away from each other and being separated by miles.
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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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Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me.
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Times have changed and so have heroes and heroines, but the core of what makes readers happy has remained the same: Does the material touch you, resonant with you, stick with you? Do you feel yourself in the pages, see yourself walking in another person's shoes, hear the voices as they speak? Are you in love with the way they are in love?
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The pair of them were staring at the computer screen like two dogs watching animal planet: very focused, but incapable of turning up the volume or changing the channel. -Manny and Butch
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Can you drive any faster? Tohr demanded. I got the pedal to the medal The angel looked back. And I don't care what I have to mow over
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In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.
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Tore up from the floor up. Followed by a big outtie. John Mathew
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Vishous's chest expanded. . . and his diamond stare slowly swung to Butch. There was a heartbeat of intensity. Then V reached out and repositioned the cross so it once again hung over Butch's heart. You did well, cop. Congratulations, true?
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He [Vishous] was all need, no ease.
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Marissa laughed, utterly delighted with her mate. Later. Food first. Butch settled back immediately, like she'd called his lust to a heel and it behaved because it wanted to be a good boy. As she left, the cop's eyes followed her with rank hunger and adoration. V shook his head. You are a total sap.
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Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.
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When he frowned again, she was fairly sure that the nomenclature did not please him, and she found herself wishing she had been birthed to other syllables.
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Man, some open doors were not welcoming, and that was so the case here—less hi-how’re-ya, more come-in-so-your-skin-can-be-used-to-make-a-super-hero-cape-for-one-of-Hannibal-Lecter’s-patients.
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Trust me, true? Butch barked a laugh. Last time you said that i ended up with a vampire cocktail, remember?
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“Doesn't have to be easy to be right.” In that case, we're meant for each other.
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Ah, now, don't get all mushy on me. We ain't dating. Butch
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Besides, the mhis that surrounded the compound could scramble anything from GPS to Santa Claus.
J.R. Ward