Cab Mates Quotes

I really do like tea!" James shouted from the bottom of the steps. "In fact, I love it! I LOVE TEA!" "Good for you, mate!" yelled the driver of a passing ransom cab.

So?" she said, giving me a slow, wicked smile when we accelerated forward. " You told Will you found a woman who likes to have sex in public?" "Not in my cab!" the cabbie yelled so loud we both jumped and then broke into laughter. He pumped the brakes, jolting us. "Not in my cab!" "Don't worry, mate," I told him. I turned to her and murmured, "She doesn't let me fuck her in cars. Or on Tuesdays." "She doesn't," she whispered, though she did let me kiss her again. "Shame," I said into her mouth. "I'm good in cars. And especially good on Tuesdays.

They pictured themselves dashing around Manhattan, latte in one hand, cell phone in the other, adorably breaking a designer heel while hailing a cab, and falling into the arms of a charming, disarming soul mate with winningly floppy hair.

Yes,yes," Cordelia said,starting back up the stairs. "I really do like tea!" James shouted from the bottom of the steps. "In fact , I love it! I LOVE TEA!" "Good for you, mate!" yelled the driver of a passing hansome cab.

They drain you sometimes. They really do. "What's it all about then mate? What's the secret of life? You should know. You're a fucking cab driver." Yeah, right. (As if I'll learn the secret of life talking to arseholes like you all night). "Got any saucepan lids, mate? I've got two. I hate them. Bastards, they are. Ruined my life. I hate the bastards." I keep quiet "Don't try and rip us off, mate. I've got a key between my knuckles." (Whatever). The life of a cab driver. Glimpses into other people's lives.

They drain you sometimes. They really do. "What's it all about then mate? What's the secret of life? You should know. You're a fucking cab driver." Yeah, right. (As if I'll learn the secret of life talking to arseholes like you all night). "Got any saucepan lids, mate? I've got two. I hate them. Bastards, they are. Ruined my life. I hate the bastards." I keep quiet "Don't try and rip us off, mate. I've got a key between my knuckles." (Whatever). The life of a cab driver. Glimpses into other people's lives.

When did I give him the impression I was ready to go home with him? Was there a switch I flipped between talk of seesaws and soul mates? And he was evidently a manwhore. Only a manwhore would toss me in a cab and assume I wanted to go to his apartment for sex. Sex. I did not want that at all. Lots of sex. Good sex. Dirty sex. Hot sex. Matthew looked like very good sex.

He took his hat off and put it on top of the truck cab, his eyes never leaving hers. “Can I satisfy my curiosity about one last thing?” he asked, his voice gruff in a way she’d never heard it before. Then she noticed his attention, his focus, was on her mouth now. Heat flared through her so fast she couldn’t control it. Like a wildfire fueled by a raging wind, it consumed her, ravaging any hope she had of containing it. “What would that be?” she said on a choked whisper, though she had absolutely no doubt she knew the answer. She blamed a year of not having to manage her defenses around him for not being able to rally them now. Truth was, though, she wasn’t sure she would have, even if she could. “This.” He closed the whisper of a distance between his mouth and hers, only he didn’t go for the alpha-male, take-all, conquering kiss. That might have swept her off her feet, quite literally, for at least the time it took for it to begin and end. No, what he did decimated any chance she had of being simply swept away, able to write off the moment later as nothing more than a mindless, primal response. No, what he did was make love to her mouth. She hadn’t even known it was possible to do such a thing. His kiss wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t desperate, or, worse, a sad good-bye. It was a slow, deliberate, and confident wooing. That last part being the most heady, and the most dangerous. It was a kiss that didn’t ask for her complete and utter participation; it simply, by its most intimate nature, demanded it. He didn’t lay claim. He made love to her mouth with his, like he’d known this, all along, and just hadn’t had the chance to show her yet. He drew her in, sharing with her the experience of utter communion that was the two of them, together. He kissed her slowly, intently, and so utterly sensuously, that she was kissing him back, fully partnering him in this communion of so much more than mere lips, tongues, and breaths, without it even being a conscious decision on her part. His tongue slid in along hers as if it had found its mate and was simply happy to be home, curled up again, sated and content. But that beautiful sweetness was all mixed up with the pulse of something darkly sensual, making her crave the discovery of what every part of him communing in this way with every part of her would be like. So deeply satisfying and urgently primal. She was in trouble here. Real trouble. Because somewhere along the way she’d forgotten he wasn’t a man who called anything quits, and he surely hadn’t come all this way to turn around and head home without making damn sure she knew exactly what she was turning away from.

Taylor—” I started. “No.” she shook her head. “Maybe it would be better if I left. I have to start fending for myself, Victor. Have to get out in the world and live on my own.” “No, you don’t.” I pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. The protective possessiveness was rolling over me again, an instinct too strong to deny. “Look at me,” I demanded. She turned toward me, her arms crossed protectively over her breasts. “What?” “Taylor… God, how do I say this?” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Look, I don’t mind letting you drink from me. I thought I would but I don’t, okay? And I don’t want you going anywhere—you belong in my house with me—nowhere else.” “Victor—” she started to protest but I held up a hand to stop her. “When the three months is over, you can go where you want and do what you want. But until then…” I leaned forward, looking intently into her eyes. “Until then, Taylor, you’re mine. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Mine to nourish. Just like the vows we took said—vows I don’t intend to break. Do you understand? Mine.” The last word was a low growl, more animal than human. It came from deep inside me—from the wolf wanting to protect its mate. She looked at me for a long time and I could hear her heart racing in the silence of the cab. Probably, I was scaring her to death but I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t stop myself from laying claim to her. She was mine, damn it. Mine. “All right,” she whispered at last, nodding. “I get it.” “No.” I shook my head. I needed more than just a simple acknowledgement that she’d heard me. “Say it, Taylor,” I told her. “I want to hear you say that you’re mine.” “I…” she licked her lips nervously. “I’m yours, Victor,” she said in a trembling voice. “Only… only yours.” “Good.” I nodded, feeling something inside my chest loosen. But there was something else to clear up. “And I want to hear you say you’ll drink from me every time you’re thirsty,” I told her. “Every Goddamn time.” “I…” For some reason she hesitated, her eyes wide as she looked at me. Why was this a problem? She needed my blood and I wanted her to take it—no, I needed her to take it, damn it! “Say it,” I demanded. I tried to make my voice a little softer but I couldn’t help the intensity of my gaze as I looked at her. “Say you’ll drink from me, baby,” I urged her. “I want you to.” “I… I’ll drink from you,” she whispered at last. “Good.” At last, I felt satisfied. Turning back to the road, I started the truck again. “I’m glad we cleared that up.