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A thong. God bless the thong. He hooked his fingers in the silk sides and tugged, rolling the silk down her legs until it hit the floor, his favorite place for panties.
Jill Shalvis
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Jill Shalvis
Age: 54
Author
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Floor
Bless
Thong
Favorite
Tugged
Legs
Thongs
Fingers
Panties
Sides
Hooked
Place
Silk
Rolling
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When everyone just shook their heads, he unbuttoned his shirt and, oh good Lord, shrugged out of it, bunching it up to slip beneath her head like a pillow. Don’t look at him, she told herself. Don’t look— She looked. Sweet Jesus.
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Chloe? Yeah? I'd be worth the inhaler, he said, then forced himself to walk away.
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Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with.
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Two of my fav pieces of wisdom from Phoebe: - Men are like parking spots. All the good ones are taken, and those that aren't are inaccessible. - Remember, it's always better to be the smartass rather than the dumbass.
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It was not enough. It was too much. It was everything.
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The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the ability to reach it.” – Chloe Traeger
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He handed her the other half of his candy bar. She stared at it like it was a brick of gold. I'm on a diet. But she took it. A see-food diet, apparently. I see food and I eat it.
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How about we give each other everything we can and not blame each other for what we can’t.
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Try asking sometime. Not all women will stand for that 50 Shades crap, you know.
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In his world, people never questioned him. And it was a good place to be, his world. Apparently she hadn't gotten the memo.
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Sisters are the true friends who ask how you are, and then wait to hear the answer.
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Oh boy. His chest was smooth and warm and hard as stone, and she wanted to both touch and nibble. And lick. Could she pretty please lick?
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I’m already yours. Always have been. All you have to do is step into the ring.
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