Knot So Lucky Quotes

Shut the fuck up and take this dick like a good girl.

People always say when luck meets opportunity, that equals success. But I call bullshit. And today is proof. Because even when you get knot so lucky, you can still hit a jackpot.

Anyway, what was I saying?” he asks while he keeps massaging me. My shoulders do have a lot of knots in them, but I don’t want The Creator to be the one rubbing them out. I want to say something, to tell him to stop, but I’m so scared of offending him. “Oh, right,” he says, remembering his train of thought without my help. “Every kid out there would kill for an opportunity like the one you’ve got. You’re very lucky, Jennetter.

Hey, wifey. Remember me?” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh as I nod and attempt to fix my hair, swiping it out of my face. But he winks and rubs his jaw, tapping a finger to it as he adds, “Good. Now, give daddy a kiss and make it better.

Wild Card, no more flirting with the bench. I’m the starting fucking lineup.

And I’m tempted to keep holding it, but I can’t because that’s the kind of shit that makes the day go from legendary to restraining order.

And remember, what happens in Vegas is now ordered to stay in Vegas.

So, hubby, where do we live?” “In hell, wifey. In. Fucking. Hell.

Whoever’s behind me is wearing the kind of cologne that pisses you off when the face doesn’t match the scent.

I’m not available to babysit anyone’s audacity. You have to take that shit home with you.

Damn. I really got drunk and married this dude, then let the starting lineup for the Raiders rail me every which way. I’ve never wanted to be a role model, but god has his favorites, so it would be selfish of me not to accept this privilege.

The shower cuts off, and his hand slips into mine, our bare bodies walking in step to the tub. I’m helped inside before he lowers himself in, making the water rise almost to the top. I chuckle, floating my hands over the top of the warmth and staring across at him. “This is nice.” This, as in all of this…him, me, the last few weeks.

A notion of character, not so much discredited as simply forgotten, once held that people only came into themselves partway through their lives. They woke up, were they lucky enough to have consciousness, in the act of doing something they already knew how to do: feeding themselves with currants. Walking the dog. Knotting up a broken bootlace. Singing antiphonally in the choir. Suddenly: This is I, I am the girl singing this alto line off-key, I am the boy loping after the dog, and I can see myself doing it as, presumably, the dog cannot see itself. How peculiar! I lift on my toes at the end of the dock, to dive into the lake because I am hot, and while isolated like a specimen in the glassy slide of summer, the notions of hot and lake and I converge into a consciousness of consciousness–in an instant, in between launch and landing, even before I cannonball into the lake, shattering both my reflection and my old notion of myself.

Last night felt good.” He chuckled. “Not watching you jerk off, though that was fucking hot, but before that, when you were sleeping between me and Boris. I liked that.” A knot formed in Hans’s chest, making it difficult to speak. “So did Boris,” Thomas insisted. “I know he did. Then he started worrying about you getting between me and him. He did what he did because he needed to prove I still belonged to him.” “I already fucking know that!” Hans snapped. He lowered his voice. “I know you have your special things I can’t be a part of, like speaking to each other in Russian, and kissing and hugging, and all the things I wish I could do with you….” He stopped himself. He was overstepping again. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve only known you guys for like two months. But I like being here. I’m lucky you haven’t fired me for what I did last night, considering how much it upset Boris.” He tried to turn pull away, embarrassed, but Thomas wouldn’t let go. “Boris and I have things that tie us together—things that do make me his—but despite all that, I think we both want to build something with you too.” Hans huffed out a breath. “I’m not sure how I feel about him now.” “Like I said, there will be bad days. He can’t help it, other than to keep taking his meds and going to therapy. He’s so much better than he was, when I met him in Russia. You have no idea!” Hans settled into the embrace, reveling in the feel of Thomas’s warm, soft skin. Knowing he shouldn’t, he said, “I really wish….” “What?” “I’m sorry. I know you can’t. I just wish we could kiss.” Thomas turned him around and brought their mouths together

Oh man, we’re almost at the halfway mark in this marriage of convenience.” He nods, chuckling. “This marriage is anything but convenient.” “Truth.

Damn, you really do like her,” he says under his breath. So I nod. “Yeah. I do. She’s kinda the perfect girl, just in the wrong lifetime.

Gimme,” she whispers, wiggling her fingers for my beer. “Why didn’t you get your own when I asked if you wanted one?” She smirks. “Why are you acting like sharing isn’t your favorite thing?

Pieces of Me’ got me through some hard times, Eleanor. Have some respect.

You want epic?” I pinch her chin between my fingers, guiding her face over her shoulder, making her twist to look out the window as I let my lips brush her ear and say two little words that detonate like a bomb. “Marry me.

shake my head, looking down at the long T-shirt that says I’d hit that. There was no way I was leaving it behind. It’s the perfect memento from my night of debauchery.

That’s my QB-Wan.

All I do know is that if I ever hear a man make fun of a woman for loving Harry Styles or anything, for that matter…I am going to out them for the fangirls they are. My life is being ruined because this judge is the equivalent of a Swiftie. The Raiders are basically his Taylor, and I’m paying the price for Crew’s betrayal.” “Yeah, that judge is a real antihero…” Mills throws out, making my sister smile before she answers in the exact way I knew one of them would the moment I made a fucking Taylor Swift comparison.

Those Betsey Johnson rhinestone cowgirl boots are my fucking precious, and I’m their Gollum.

I’m dying a slow death, and you’re doing Tay Tay puns. Really? You guys are the worst.

Shut the fuck up. Lies. Holy fuck. Dad’s going to kill you. You’ll need to change your name to Julia Roberts because your ass is sleeping with the enemy.

All I do know is that if I ever hear a man make fun of a woman for loving Harry Styles or anything, for that matter…I am going to out them for the fangirls they are.

glance over at Eleanor, and she’s sitting there like a gangster, riding and probably dying on the inside but still holding strong with an incredibly unnerved demeanor.

You’d think he’d be more understanding of their love story.” Millie laughs harder as she piggybacks off my sister. “Right, but he was basically ‘You’re on your own, kid.’” Samantha’s almost wheezing as she answers. “Exactly, it’s not like she was the mastermind either.

I bet our girl… I bet our girl was wishing…wishing she was… in a lavender haze.

He knew all too well she wasn’t. But ruining Crew’s reputation was better than revenge.

Mills: Oh…P.S.—4, 7, 22, 30 I frown, confused, holding my phone above my face as I whisper to myself, “What the fuck?” Mills: Your horoscope says those are your lucky numbers. And that big life changes will alter the road to your happiness. Bet on red!

Eleanor is not the girl who’s waiting for her prince. Why would she when she’s been running the kingdom.

You two look like there’s gonna be a tiger in the bathroom.

God, I have a weakness for Crew like this—half naked and charming. But it’s fine. I’m on vacation. He’s just my Italy.

I mean…not really, but like, do I have a crush on my future ex-husband?

Why is my pussy being problematic?

If god was a woman, then men would be able to find a woman’s clit.

Good. Now, give daddy a kiss and make it better.

There’s nothing sweeter than meeting your soulmate and finding out he likes it when his friends fuck you too. Now I know why the lord gave me one heart and three holes.

Marrying some rando you just fucked is like a rite of passage in Vegas.

All of them milling about in the middle of the busy casino floor like forgotten Sims players.

Shut the fuck up and take this dick like a good girl.” Yes, daddy.

Holy shit. I got married…” My eyes lock with theirs. “And you two fucked my wife.

Sneak in here again and try to take another picture of my wife…and I’ll break more than just your fucking nose.

There isn’t a person in the world that needs more than an hour with me to know I’m not available to babysit anyone’s audacity. You have to take that shit home with you.

No, we did. I distinctly remember buying condoms that looked like poker chips. Because when they rolled them on, I yelled jackpot.

And those twins were definitely not identical. Unless it’s measured in the ability to find my clit because then, they were the blind leading the fucking blind.

Here’s to the best weekend of our lives, Eleanor Roosevelt. Because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Let’s get slutty, buddy.

Is this the part where I choose which one of you is my favorite version of a one-night stand?” They look at each other, smiling before they look back at me and shake their heads. Mr. Adorable offers a different option with a wink. “Who said you have to choose?

I should really buy a notebook and write the whole night out while it’s still fresh. That way, when I get old, the people at the nursing home can read me my ho tales, so I’ll die happy.

Eww. Why is my pussy being problematic? Vegas is for catching cock, not crushes.

It’s about time you got here. Fuck, Crew. It’s not a good look to make a judge wait.” Law and Order looks at me, adding, “Excuse my French. Hi, I’m Joshua Maroney, your lawyer for the day.” I grin. “I don’t speak French, Stabler, so you’re good. Just make sure your fee is covered by the other guy.

That girl I married: No, YOU listen… There’s nothing sweeter than meeting your soulmate and finding out he likes it when his friends fuck you too. Now I know why the lord gave me one heart and three holes.

Again, I say…I hate football. I’m banning it from my vocabulary. I won’t even read about it anymore. From now on, I’m only reading hockey romance.

Her pussy is my Super Bowl, and I want that ring. So fucking bad.

But I swear I feel like it’s been imprinted on me. Like I’m Jacob and his cock is my Renesmee. I have to stop watching Twilight before I go to bed.

The not-love of my life is seated on the arm of the couch…shirtless…and in gray sweats. When did he get those? He must’ve snuck into the room while I was in the shower. Good god. And I mean that. Because there has to be one. I believe now.

Is she or isn’t she a brotherfucker.

But I swear I feel like it’s been imprinted on me. Like I’m Jacob and his cock is my Renesmee.

Just let me bury everything deep down and pay for therapy later,

Your dick’s been in my ass. You can’t be worried about my armpit.

then dun-dun-duh-dunnn, playa.

I am the epitome of a walk of shame. I expect a trophy. If getting railed and smelling like sex was an Olympic sport, I’d get gold. Because there is no amount of cigarette smoke in this casino that could rid me of the smell of whore and unwanted pregnancy.

He doesn't know how lucky he is that I didn't come sooner to obliterate him until he was chunks of meat ground into the floor. It's only because I'm the bigger man and carry actual respect for pack hierarchy. You don't deserve disrespect, not when you're one of the most caring, intelligent, brave Omegas in the pack." He reached out tentatively to touch my cheek where tears had dampened it. His fingers were warm against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. "If he does a damn thing…Aria, I won't let him touch you again. We'll figure it out, okay? This isn't permanent." Without thinking about it, I leaned into him, seeking solace in his strength. He pulled me up to my feet, straightening me as I wobbled a bit. Unable to meet his concerned gaze, I swore under my breath. "Ugh, I'm a mess. I'm sorry. I just need a second." "Shh, it's no problem. You take your time. Don't worry about it or me." He wrapped his arms around me gently, pulling me close until we were chest-to-chest. I numbly wrapped my arms around his slightly squishy waist and nuzzled into him. The scent of his cologne wafted up, mingling with the earthy undertones of his natural musk. Each breath seemed like coming home. His scent was intoxicating, making my head spin with safety, comfort, joy. My nose filled with him. I had smelled him a million times, this was nothing new. But now? Something inside me unclenched, while at the same time, my cells twisted with a new emotion. Something deeper, darker, primal. An urge that unlocked inside me, twisting a sense of familiarity into something so much more. From hot tears to a cellular connection that quaked all the way down to the tips of my toes. My fingers spasmed around him. My mouth both dry and salivating as the same time. Was I losing my mind? Had I finally hit a mental breakdown?

Sure you don’t. Come here. For fuck’s sake, Mark.” Mark hesitates, his hand still on the knot of his tie. “I’ll make you feel better,” Eddie coaxes. And apparently now Mark is easy—not that he’s ever been anything else, honestly, but now he’s shameless, because he climbs onto the bed, one knee on either side of Eddie’s hips

Dear hubby, I’d like a divorce. Since you’re rich and famous, you’re paying for the lawyer. And since I’m not a gold digger, there’s no fee for the memories. Love, your future ex-wifey Hit me up when you rise and shine, sleeping beauty. I’m at The Palm Tree Motel, rm #17 408-242-8381

should really buy a notebook and write the whole night out while it’s still fresh. That way, when I get old, the people at the nursing home can read me my ho tales, so I’ll die happy.

Vegas is for catching cock, not crushes.

Guys get addicted when the girl is down to keep things simple.

How did I get so lucky? Audrey isn’t just gorgeous on the outside—she’s smart, compassionate and loyal. I want her so fucking bad in so many ways.

God, she’s stunning. So fucking beautiful and she’s here with me, in my arms letting me hold her. How did I get so fucking lucky?

Listen. You better stop treating me like I’m Jessica Simpson and I don’t know the difference between tuna and chicken…of the sea… Circa 2003.

Alec Price walks toward me. The legend himself. And also one of Eleanor’s sister’s boyfriends. And I do mean boyfriends because, apparently, she has four.

I mean…not really, but like, do I have a crush on my future ex-husband? Yeah, I think I do, with my whole french-fry-loving heart. Eww. Why is my pussy being problematic? Vegas is for catching cock, not crushes.

But the minute the elevator doors close, Crew runs his nose up the side of my leg, inhaling the scent of coconut tanning oil and my sweat before he drops the pillow and bites my ass.

But the minute the elevator doors close, Crew runs his nose up the side of my leg, inhaling the scent of coconut tanning oil and my sweat before he drops the pillow and bites my ass. I can’t help it. I suck in a gasp, gushing wetness between my squeezed-together thighs. And as the ding sounds for our floor, Crew pushes his fingers between my legs, tucking just inside the lining of my bikini bottoms and dragging over my arousal before he brings those fingers to his lips and sucks them loudly. “Fuck yeah. That’s a good fucking girl. Now, let me clean you up.