Managed Kristen Callihan Quotes

You are my greatest weakness because I have no defense when it comes to you.

Destroyed. My polished armor. My stubborn resistance. My hardened heart. She’s smashed through the first two and laid total claim on the third. And I don’t feel like running.

You know, I’m not actually comfortable being an asshole to women.” “Really?” I say, biting the corner of my lip to keep from smiling. “But you do it so well.

I wasn’t prepared to need you this much. I don’t know who I am anymore if you aren’t with me.

Men can’t go around introducing their woman as, “Mine; Touch her and lose a finger.” Can they?

My chatty girl has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. Because I’m not letting her go.

But the best thing about Spain? Siestas. God bless any country that has decided yes, we shall shut down business and take a long nap in the middle of the day. How can you not love them for that?

It is an odd thing to discover I’m lonely, despite never truly being alone. But I am. I want someone to know the real me, not the shiny shell I show the world.

You should know, I can’t be a fling. Not with you. If you want me, you have to be all in.” A frown knots his brows, and when he speaks, his voice is a rasp. “I’ve lived my whole life denying myself what I truly want. And yet I cannot turn from you. Haven’t you realized it yet? I am yours. I will always be yours, whether I touch you or not.

Oh, I bet you’d find that marvelous; all of us helpless women just smiling and nodding. Though I’m afraid it would never work on me.” “Of course not,” he deadpans. “I’m stuck next to the one afflicted with an apparently incurable case of verbal diarrhea.” “Says the man who is socially constipated.

She is dangerous because I cannot control her. And she is utterly beautiful, like molten glass that tempts you to touch even though you know you’ll be burned.

You know those books and movies where the girl wears a guy’s pants and they hang on her tiny frame? Yeah, I’m not sure what sort of pixies populate fiction, but not so much for me.

I don’t know whether to run or grab hold of her and never let go.

Somewhere over the Atlantic, at thirty-five thousand feet, she wrapped herself around me, and my brain decided to equate her scent, the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin, with comfort. I have no idea how I’m supposed to dissuade myself of this notion, and I am not yet ready to try.

Did you just tweak my nipple?” “Is that rhetorical?” “Beware, chatty girl, I can retaliate.” “Promise? Ooh, I like that smolder, it’s very Flynn Ryder.” “You’re comparing me to cartoon characters now?” “Animated characters. Huge difference. And it’s cute that you know who he is.

Jesus on a motorcycle, he has a happy trail.

Christ Almighty, give me strength to let her go, or let me do her right.

Jesus,” I blurt out, lifting my hand as if to shield my eyes. “It’s like looking into the sun.” “What?” he snaps, those laser-bright eyes narrowing. Oh, this will be fun. “Just stop, will you?” I squint at him. “You’re too hot. It’s too much to take.” This is true, though I’d never have the guts to say so in normal circumstances. “Are you quite well?” he intones, as if he thinks the opposite. “No, you’ve nearly rendered me blind.” I flap a hand. “Do you have an off switch? Maybe put it on low?

Ack, joke gone bad, joke gone bad,” Brenna wails, flapping her hands. “Run away. Run away.

I am a cold man. Any happiness or warmth I’ve felt died when Jax tried to take his life. Until you.” His ragged breath gusts over my cheek. “You are my warmth.

Which reminds me… While I do enjoy anal play with a woman now and then, I have never munched an ass.

I stare at him, unwilling to hide my hurt. “You hate me?” He blinks as if trying to break out of a fog. Color tints his cheeks, and his breath kicks up one more. “I think,” he says, “adore would be the better word.” Oh. Hell. Those intense eyes fixate on me, baring his soul. It is filled with pain and need. “You are my greatest weakness because I have no defense when it comes to you.

Liar, liar, your knickers are on fire.

I’ve lived my whole life denying myself what I truly want. And yet I cannot turn from you. Haven’t you realized it yet? I am yours. I will always be yours, whether I touch you or not.

You think if you sit there, looking petrified and tense, I’ll offer a blowjob to distract you from it all.” My humiliation comes to a screeching halt upon hearing the word blowjob. “What?” “Well, it’s not going to happen.” Ignore the cock. Ignore him. He’s an idiot. Focus on the problem at hand. “You are deranged. Completely deranged.

You’re acting like a mother hen.” Which I love. “Cluck, cluck,” he deadpans

Lady Luck is a selective bitch.

Gabriel Scott might not know how to manage me, but I sure as shit am clueless when it comes to him too.

She is dangerous because I cannot control her.

This isn’t solely about sex; if it was, I’d have fucked her already. This is uncomfortably more. I have never experienced intimacy. I did not know how good it felt to simply be with someone and let everything else melt away. The world can fuck off when I’m with Sophie Darling. There is only us. I don’t have to be anyone else but Gabriel.

Is he drunk?” Whip asks with some concern. “Naw,” Killian drawls. “All I see are empty water bottles.” “Drowning his sorrows in bottled water. At least he’s not cliché,” Rye murmurs before sitting next to me.

Love is what you do in life – Gabriel Scott Love is who you do in life – Sophie Darling

They’re your family. Anyone can see that you love them. He stills as if he’s absorbing my words. “Most people believe I’m incapable of feeling anything.” Outrage punches through my chest like a burning fist. In that moment, I know I’d go to war for this man. Even if he hated every second of it. No one should have to face the world without someone at their back. Especially not someone as dedicated as Gabriel.

I’m in pain now, actual physical pain – in my balls, my abs, my chest. Everything aches with a throbbing persistence, wrought from self-denial. I want this woman more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. But I want to keep her. I have no idea how to keep anyone close to me. Because I have no idea how to expose my heart.

What did I say about speculating?” I warn. “One more word and I’ll have you all doing a music video with synchronized dancing faster than you can say Backstreet Boys.” Whip lifts up a hand. “Okay, geesh. Got it. You two are an impenetrable wall that no one shall gaze upon. No need to go all Simon Cowell on us.

This man could sell boats to desert dwellers just by standing there, looking pretty.

How are dudes in real life supposed to compete when women are reading about python dicks and pussy whisperers?

She stands in the doorway to our room, blue sundress rumpled, the rosy light of sunset slanting through the wide widows and illuminating the gold of her hair. I’m struck speechless, my breath cutting short. I am not a poetic man, but I want to be one now. I want to do justice to her beauty and the way she fills me with a strange mixture of utter peace and demanding need.

Billy's Adam's apple bobbed. "Don't-" The knife at his throat cut him short. Black Tom cocked a thick brow. "Don't, wha? Hurt your littl' toffer?" Rotted teeth flashed. "She mean that much ta ye, then?" Bill licked his lips quickly. His skin took on a grayish hue as sweat seeded over his high brow. "Don't piss 'er off," he managed.

God, that's a cute dress." She plops down in the chair opposite me. "Is it wrong to want to hire based on that dress alone?" "I wouldn't complain," I say, shaking her hand. "But feel free to ask me more questions if you must.

can’t blame the woman. Dude is potent.

Promise? Ooh, I like that smolder, it’s very Flynn Ryder.” “You’re comparing me to cartoon characters now?

Your hard dick is poking me in the ass. I can no more ignore it than if you slapped me in the face with it.

It is an odd thing to discover I’m lonely, despite never truly being alone. But I am. I want someone to know the real me, not the shiny shell I show the world.

She’s not my type, “he says with a sniff. “You actually have a type?” It comes out before I can stop it. “Yes,” he drawls. “Quiet, dignified, and discreet.” “Lie.

The bed creaks as he eases closer. And then I feel it. Oh, fucking hell. Just no. He can’t do this to me. It’s big, it’s hard, and it’s nudging my ass. We both freeze. Well, Gabriel freezes. His dick? It nudges me again, that blunt head pushing into the small of my back as if to say hello. “Involuntary reaction,” Gabriel says in a strangled voice. “Ignore it.” His hard-on says otherwise. I swallow with difficulty. “Your hard dick is poking me in the ass. I can no more ignore it than if you slapped me in the face with it.” He stills, a sound gurgling in his throat. I’m about to apologize for being so crude, when he bursts out laughing.

This is your fault, you know.” “My fault?” His brows lift, but he doesn’t look away from his magazine. “How on earth did you come to that conclusion?” “Your freaky good looks made her blind to all but you, sunshine.” His expression is blank, though his lips twitch. “If only I could strike women speechless.

You’ve told me repeatedly now that you find me blindingly attractive.” “That doesn’t mean I like you. Besides, your brand of pretty is like a weapon. You reel victims in with it, just like a vampire does. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sparkle in the sun.” “I cannot believe I’m arguing with a woman who references Twilight.” “The fact that you know I’m referencing Twilight betrays you as a secret Edward-loving fanboy.” His snort is loud and scathing. “Team Jacob all the way.” I can’t help it, my eyes fly open, and I lift a corner of my mask to glare at him. “That’s it. We can never be friends.

flying clumsy virgins in his personal helicopter,

You’re one breath away from totally losing your shit. Accept the torment that is physical comfort.

Just think of me as your friendly neighborhood cuddler.” He’s quiet again before another question bursts from him. “Are you telling me you’d do this for anyone?” I snuggle down. “No. That you’re insanely hot is a huge factor. I get to cop a feel under the guise of civic duty.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” A smile pulls at my lips. “Can it with the outrage. I know for a fact that most people would rather snuggle up to a hot dude. If it makes me shallow for admitting that, so be it.” He

Ouch. Do you mind? This is a silk-wool blend. You’ll wrinkle it.” “It’s about to be shredded.” She seethes up at me, eyes shooting sparks. “You just totally threw our business out there.” “I told them not to talk about it.” Her nose wrinkles. “Which means they’ll be talking about it even more.” “No, they won’t.” “Yes, we will,” Rye calls. I point at him. “Start practicing your Running Man.

I simply don’t really care what I’m doing as long as I get to live life, be happy, and enjoy new things.

I’m beginning to hate silence, because it means she’s not there.

The guys were giving me shit,” I blurt out, my common sense weakened by his nearness. “About you. They implied that you were a cold fish where sex was involved. That you don’t…er…do that anymore.” God, I can’t look at him. I brace for his ire, but he laughs. Not long or very loud, but his chest shakes, and he wipes a hand over his face as he tries to get control of it. “And you what?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with mirth. “Thought I was a virgin?” “No.” I kick his foot lightly. “No. I just…Gah! You said fuck , and it got me thinking about it.” “Fucking?” he asks, grinning wide enough to flash his white teeth. I look away so I can’t be charmed any further. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t,” he teases in a tone so unlike him – so like me - that I meet his gaze. “No, I don’t,” I agree quietly.

It’s simply biology,” Whip says as if he’s suddenly an expert. “Men are wired to love the hunt, and women are wired to love being hunted.

Love is what you do in life— Gabriel Scott Love is who you do in life—Sophie Darling

am a cold man. Any happiness or warmth I’ve felt died when Jax tried to take his life. Until you.” His ragged breath gusts over my cheek. “You are my warmth.

Haven’t you realized it yet? I am yours. I will always be yours,

I didn’t have a home until she came into my life. She gave me one without hesitation, as if she’s been waiting for me all this time, knowing I was meant to be hers. I touch her cheek just to remind myself she’s real.

Madam, do me the favour of refraining from speaking to me for the remainder of the flight. “Are you a duke? You talk like a duke.” His head jerks if he wants to look my way, but he manages to keep his gaze forward, his lips compressed so tightly they’re turning white at the edges. A travesty. “Oh, or maybe a prince I know” I snap my fingers. “Prince Charming!

Man, I keep waiting for her to break up with Jay Z. Then I’m all in.” “Dude, your dream is dead in the water,” Jax says. “You don’t have a chance in hell with her.” “You’re gonna eat your words,” Whip promises. “Our love is destined. She totally winked at me during that charity concert we all did last month.” “It was windy,” Killian says with a snort. “She had dust in her eyes.” “She had me in her eyes.

And you do it to be strong. Because you hate weakness.” With a rush, his breath leaves him, and he sags in his chair. “Yes,” he rasps. “Only I believe you are my greatest weakness now, chatty girl.” My camera lowers, and I stare at him, unwilling to hide my hurt. “You hate me?” He blinks as if trying to break out of a fog. Color tints his cheeks, and his breath kicks up once more. “I think,” he says, “adore would be the better word.” Oh. Hell.

Whip shakes his head. “Fucking knew it.” “You know nothing,” Sophie hisses at him. Jax high-fives Rye. “You owe us each fifty bucks, Killian.” “Shit, and I was so sure he’d hold out longer. Thanks a lot, Scottie.” Killian glares at me. The little arse. “What did I say about speculating?” I warn. “One more word and I’ll have you all doing a music video with synchronized dancing faster than you can say Backstreet Boys.” Whip lifts up a hand. “Okay, geesh. Got it. You two are an impenetrable wall that no one shall gaze upon. No need to go all Simon Cowell on us.

Thank you for coming home,” I tell her, unable to hold back the words. Home. Does she realize how many times I’ve referred to wherever we rest our heads as my home? I hadn’t meant to betray myself that way, but I can’t seem to stop. I want her to know what she means to me, and yet the sensation of exposing my heart is so foreign, I find it hard to breathe as she stares at me. But her expression goes soft, her brown eyes shinning. Relief is liquid cool along my tight muscles as she reaches up to tuck my hair back from my brow. “You came home first.” I didn’t have a home until she came into my life. She gave me one without hesitation, as if she’s been waiting for me all this time, knowing I was meant to be hers. I touch her cheek just to remind myself she’s real.

stalemate. Fated to both love and resent each other.” “What did you do?” Obviously, she’d married the man. “I broke up with him.” She pops a cherry into her mouth and chews industriously. “And I was damned miserable.” “Did you go back to him?” “No.” She smiles. “He called every evening with one question. ‘Is it still worth it?’ I held out for months. Until finally, I could answer, no, being apart from him wasn’t worth it.” “Then you got together, lived happily ever after and all that jazz, right?” Mrs. Goldman shakes her head. “No. Everything I feared they would think, they did. I had to quit the firm and open my own. Set me back years because no one wanted to hire a woman as their financial manager.” A dark look comes into her eyes. “But I persisted. And I made it.

No. It’s like that old dilemma of trying to choose between The Beatles and The Stones. It can’t be done.” Her blunt nose wrinkles, and I have the overwhelming urge to kiss it. “Of course it can be done,” she says, oblivious to my thoughts. “The Beatles for joy or nostalgia. The Stones for drinking or sex.” At the word sex my cock jumps as if to remind me that I’ve been ignoring him and he is not amused. I tilt my hips toward the bed and press my irritable cock to the mattress. The randy bastard jerks in protest. I empathize with my needy willy. Truly. But some things are worth more. Keep telling yourself that, mate. “Why not The Beatles for sex?” I can’t help asking. Mistake. Turning any conversation towards sex is playing with fire. But apparently I like the sweet pain of being slowly burned. Sophie shrugs, sending the white sheet farther down the curve of her shoulder. “Name one Beatles song that’s sexier than a Stones’ song.

I have never experienced intimacy. I did not know how good it felt to simply be with someone and let everything else melt away. The world can fuck off when I'm with Sophie Darling. There is only us. I don't have to be anyone else but Gabriel.

I've never been one to freely laugh and often found those who did rather annoying. Life isn't a joke - not for me. And yet I want to swim in the sound of Sophie's laughter, let it cleanse me and wash away all the heaviness in my life.

I have not thought of any place as home for long I'm surprised I even remember the concept. My houses are dwellings in which I rest when not working. Given that I'm always working, I rarely spend time in any of them. Yet from the first night Sophie settled her things alongside mine and filled those quiet, orderly spaced with her effusive nature, wherever she is feels like home.

On rumpled, linen sheets, she claims me, body and soul, and then offers herself right back. In that moment, I am no longer Scottie or Gabriel, I am something more. I am home. Finally. At last. Forever.

I cannot believe I’m arguing with a woman who references Twilight.” “The fact that you know I’m referencing Twilight betrays you as a secret Edward-loving fanboy.

Auburn. Strawberry red.” Great, you sound like the Bubba Gump of hair coloring.

You’re not going to bounce on the seats and cry who-eee, are you?” I glare at him. “I’m not completely uncouth, you know.” Okay, I might have done so had he not mentioned it. “I’ve been in a plane with you for seven hours,” he reminds me as he follows me into the car. I have to grit my teeth, because, who-fucking-eee!, the car is fine. I want to rub my cheeks against the butter soft leather and play with the array of buttons so badly my fingers twitch. Gabriel eyes me for a long moment as the driver shuts the door with a soft thud. “Go on,” he says in a cajoling voice. “Give it a little bounce. You know you’re dying for it.

Dressed in a crisp white polo shirt, which shows off the deep gold of his skin and stretches around the bulge of his biceps, and slouchy, gray slacks that highlight the narrowness of his hips and drape over his thick thighs, he leans against a red Ferrari, his hands tucked into his pockets. Move over Jake Ryan. When Gabriel smiles—a full one, complete with that cute dimple on his left cheek, the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy—I’m tempted to look around before mouthing, “Who me?

I plan on dying when I’m very old and fucking you while hopped up on Viagra.” “You really do say the sweetest things.

Rye turns on the TV and settles down in a chair. “Oh, Supernatural is on.” “No,” I cut in, pained. “Not that one. Sophie has a thing for Dean. I can’t watch it without hearing her sigh and coo.

Men are wired to love the hunt, and women are wired to love being hunted.

Now then,” I tell him around the mouthful, “you’ve completely lost points for being Team Jacob.