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A sixty - eight, he wants you to go down on him but he won't return the favor. It would be sixty-nine but he owes you one.

Lisa Kleypas

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Lisa Kleypas
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: November 5
Author
Novelist
Writer
Temple
Texas
Lisa Kleypas Ellis
Eight
Return
Wants
Would
Owes
Sixty
Favor
Favors
Nine

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I've never known anyone more ill equipped for happiness. He wouldn't know what to do with it.
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You think I'd cheat on you? I demanded with all the innocent outrage I could muster. With another guy, no. With a cheeseburger . . . in a heartbeat.
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No one needs to have their way all the time, first of all, but second of all, if you find the right partner, as a couple, you're going to create something together that is going to be better than what you could do or have individually.
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I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.
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You’re far too prickly tempered to be a mistress. You’re far better suited as a wife.
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I figured if I told it to myself often enough, I would start believing it.
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Heath, she whispered, you're all I want. No one else ... no one . . .
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I know when something is too important to be decided by logic.
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Some folks are happier not being saved.
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Then he raised her enough to whisper in her ear, and while his voice was tender, his words were savage. You're my woman, and no man or God or ghost will ever take you from me.
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You're always looking for some new way to tell the same story, but it's how they get to the happy end that is the challenge and the fun for a writer.
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Before I write the first page of a novel, I spend a long time creating detailed backgrounds for my characters. I imagine the experiences that have formed them, what makes them happy, angry, fearful, and what they yearn for.
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I wanted more of those sweltering kisses. I felt terrible about that. But the warm sunny fragrance of him...he smelled better than any human being I'd ever met. Okay I said unsteadily, forget what I said about not exchanging names. Who are you? For you, honey...I'm trouble. -Haven & Hardy
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Some are nice and some aren't. Some are smart, and others are about as bright as a wet match in a dark cave. In other words, pretty normal.
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Annabelle gave him a chiding smile. “If you’re implying that I’m spoiled, I assure you that I am not.” “You should be.” His warm gaze slid over her pink-tinted face and slender upper body, then sought hers again. There was a note in his voice that gently robbed her of breath. “You could do with a bit of spoiling.
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When the pace of our feet matched perfectly, I felt a deep inner pang of satisfaction. I could have gone on walking like that forever, side by side with him. There had been few times in my life I had ever inhabited a moment so fully, with no loneliness lurking at the edges.
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So are you bisexual?” I had asked, and Todd had laughed at my insistence on label. “I guess I'm bipossible,” he had said.
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Fear you? she said without thinking. Good God, I would never do that. Easing her head back, Westcliff looked at her while a slow smile spread across his face. No, you wouldn't, he agreed. You'd spit in the devil's eye if it suited you.
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Great men don't nessarily make good husbands.
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I need you for a lot of things, Hardy. A lifetime's worth of things.
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