Mmm Hmmm Quotes

You’re going out with Garrett Graham.” “Mmm-hmmm.” “I call shenanigans.” Of course she does. A date with Garrett Graham? I might as well have announced I’m marrying Chris Hemsworth.

I hate them," Enna said. "Whoever is responsible for making me sleep outside without pillows, I hate them." Mmm-hmmm...," Dasha said. Rin had noticed that the Tiran girl often had trouble remembering how to speak in the morning. If Finn were here," Enna continued to mumble as she rewrapped her head cloth, "he'd let me rest my head on his chest at night. Or leg. Or arm. And then he'd find whoever was responsible for the whole sleeping outside with no pillows situation and hold him while I kicked him in the shins.

A thump thump thump noise that was so unfamiliar, and yet I couldn't quite place it. But I knew it. It was---"Mmm-hmmm," Monica murmured, just as Wes came view into the path. He was running, his pace quick and steady. He was in shorts, his shirt off, staring ahead as he passed. His back was tan and gleaming with sweat. God god!" she said finally, fanning her face with her hand, "I've seen it a million times but it just never gets old. Never.

Mac: "Mmm-hmmm." She shoved away the sheets tangled between their bodies and moved to straddle his lap. "Maybe it's time I drove YOU crazy." Will: "Baby, you drive me crazy just by breathing.

I made my way to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Hannah followed a moment later and sat down opposite me. She looked exhausted. ‘You look exhausted,’ I told her. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No, no, it’s not that you look bad,’ I said, backtracking. ‘You just look more tired than usual.’ ‘Mmm hmmm,’ said Hannah. ‘Not that you usually look tired.’ Hannah rolled her eyes. I decided I was talking too much and turned my attention to the pitiful collection of ‘80s music cassettes that she’d inherited when she moved into the apartment. Then I started talking again. ‘You know, you’re only one album away from owning Bananarama’s full back catalogue.’ I looked over to Hannah. She wasn’t laughing. That felt strange. She always laughed at my crappy music cassette jokes. I tried another.

Liz?" "Hmmm?" "Why do you care about me?" The question seems to startle me. It's uncharacteristic for Richie, who is usually so cool and self-assured. I open my eyes. "Why would you ask me that?" "Because I don't understand. We're so different." I reach around the side of his face. Once again, I wipe fresh beads of sweat from his forehead. This time, I don't even bother wiping my hands on my pants. I lace my fingers into his again, and the two of us lie together, his damp clamminess seeping onto my made up face and my pretty clothes. Obviously, I couldn't care less. "But we fit," I whisper. "Like this." And I tighten my grip around him. "Mmm." He smiles, his eyes still closed. "You're right. We do." "Richie...I'm lying. I don't like you." "You don't?" His voice cracks. "No." I bring my lips close to his ear. "I love you Richie Wilson.

You're so beautiful," he told her. Her laughter tickled his ears. "You realize you're looking at my back, right?" "Mmm-hmmm. And it's a very beautiful back.

I went over to where Jack was with some guy who, had he been in a suit instead of a soft, flowing peasant shirt and trousers, would have been the archetypal uptight businessman. “This is unacceptable! Do you have any idea how many people depend on me? How much money I’m losing every minute I’m here?” Jack’s eyes had glazed over, vague and unfocused as he nodded slowly. “Mmm hmmm,” he kept repeating, almost like he was humming. “Hey,” I said. “Everything okay?” Jack gave me a desperate look. “No, everything is not okay!” Uptight Businessman shouted at me. “Great! I need to borrow Jack, then.” I grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him away. “Thanks. Have I mentioned lately how glad I am you didn’t die?” “Yes. But feel free to keep it up.

He works fast," Alan commented as he lifted his wine. "David?" Shelby sent him a puzzled look. "Actually his fastest sped is crawl unless he's got a guitar in his hands." "Really?" Alan's eyes met hers as he sipped, but she didn't understand the amusement in them. "You only stood him up tonight, and already he's planning his wedding to someone else." "Stood him-" she began on a laugh, then remembered. "Oh." Torn between annoyance and her own sense of te ridiculous, Shelby toyed with the stem of her glass. "Men are fickle creatures," she decided. "Apparently." Reaching over, he lifted her chin with a fingertip. "You're holding up well." "I don't like to wear my heart on my sleeve" Exasperated, amused, she muffled a laugh. "Dammit, he would have to pick tonight to show up here." "Of all the gin joints in all the towns..." This time the laugh escaped fully. "Well done," Shelby told him. "I should've thought of that line myself; I heard the movie not long ago." "Heard it?" "Mmm-hmmm. Well..." She lifted her glass in a toast. "To broken hearts?" "Or foolish lies?" Alan countered. Shelby wrinkled her nose as she tapped her glass against his. "I usually tell very good ones. Besides, I did date David.Once.Tree years ago." She finished off her wine. "Maybe four.You can stop grinning in that smug, masculine way any time, Senator." "Was I?" Rising, he offered Shelby her damp jacket. "How rude of me." "It would've been more polite not to acknowledge that you'd caught me in a lie," she commented as they worked their way through the crowd and back into the rain. "Which you wouldn't have done if you hadn't made me so mad that I couldn't think of a handier name to give you in the first place." "If I work my way through the morass of that sentence it seems to be my fault." Alan slipped an arm around her shoulders in so casually friendly a manner she didn't protest. "Suppose I apologize for not giving you time to think of a lie that would hold up?" "It seems fair.

Eleanor reached over and stroked his foreman. "Was I fair?" Henry whispered. She nodded. "Very. Besides, I think our Ranulf gave you the justification for some of the changes you have been considering.Perhaps a court of law is needed." "He did.And besides it was all highly entertaining.I had to bite my tongue when Craven started all that nonsense about Ranulf trying to kill him with an arrow." "So you knew from the beginning..." Eleanor murmured in partial disbelief and admiration. "That Ranulf was up to something? The man would never let anyone-even me-insult his honor without response. It was hard to wait until the oaf finished everything Ranulf needed him to say...and come to think of it...it was very convenient for Lady Bronwyn to be in disguise. How is it that you did not inform me earlier of what was to happen?" "I did not know," Eleanor rejoined quickly. "I met with his wife, who never owned to her true identity...but I liked her and suspected she would enjoy the night much better as one of my ladies-in-waiting.It is a great honor,you know." "And the idea of coming in masquerade?" "Well,it has been dull lately." "And you never knew who she was.Never thought to tell me you suspected Lady Bronwyn was not whom she professed to be." "I only knew for sure that I liked her and that she was Laon's daughter. And as for the masquerade, I did it for you, my king." "Me?" "Mmm-hmmm," Eleanor purred against his ear. "I know how very much you like to be entertained." "And that it was.Quite diverting. Never thought to see the day where Ranulf would be at ease in a crowd-or so demonstrative," Henry said, pointing at the joined couple. "He's in love,my king.Just like I am. Perhaps someday I'll do something about your men and their rough-mannered ways. Maybe I will convene my own court-the court of love." "I think that babe in your womb has made you soft in the head," Henry teased. "Maybe," Eleanor sighed as she sat back in her chair with a smile that spoke of a mind whirling with ideas.

Feeling anything yet?" I whispered after a few moments. Sailor shifted a little closer, until his thighs were touching mine. "Mmm-hmmm," he murmured. "Sailor!" "it's not my fault. You're a woman, I'm a man, and this is a very small nook.

Clara took a sip of coffee. “Having lots of people pray about something doesn’t force God to listen or act. God knows everything. Prayer is not informing Him because He already knows what we need and why we’re crying out.” “So why pray at all?” Cecilia said. Clara held up a hand. “Now you asked me to answer you and I’m trying to do that.” Cecilia smiled and sat back, also raising a hand as if the floor was Clara’s. “God does hear what we pray. You don’t need a megaphone or a million people to get His attention. But the point of prayer is not to get what we want. Prayer changes the person who prays. You take the parent who prays that a child will get on the straight and narrow. You know I’ve been there with Clyde. We’ve all been heartsick about something or other regarding our kids. But what I’ve found is this. Whenever I was worried about Clyde, God was doing something in me. He wanted to turn my heart around as much if not more so than my son’s. God helped me trust Him in greater ways than I ever thought possible because of that boy and what he dragged me through.” “And he dragged you through a lot,” Tressa said. “Mmm-hmmm,” Eula agreed.

His voice had a rough note to it as he said, “Tienes una chocha tan linda.” “What?” she mumbled behind her gag. “I said you have a beautiful pussy. And it is. Do you want me to suck on that pretty pussy?” She nodded vigorously and drew in a deep breath of anticipation as he rolled her over to her front. “If I untie your hands, do you promise to behave?” Giving him a pleading look she nodded again. “If you’re a bad girl I’ll just tie you up again and continue teasing you.” She tried to keep from glaring at him, but he must have noticed because he chuckled as he unbound her hands. <...>She smiled at him, feeling too good to fight. “I do.” He laughed and cuddled her close, his dick jumping inside of her when she involuntarily squeezed him. “Good God, woman, you’re going to kill me.” A giggle escaped her and she wondered at the light, happy sound. “Stop being such a whiner.” ''Mmm, feisty,” he gave her neck a sharp nip. “I like it.” “You won’t like it when I kill you for letting her touch you,” she grumped, but cuddled closer. “Why do you love me?” “Fishing for compliments?” she teased. “No…I just want to know why so I can keep doing whatever it is that makes you love me.” “Oh, baby,” she lifted her head to kiss his chin, the note of vulnerability in his voice touching her deeply. “Just be you. You’re the man I fell in love with. All of you. The UFC fighter, the businessman, the asshole—” “Hey now.” She shook her head against his chest. “Admit it, you can be an asshole.” “I plead the fifth.” “All of you,” she continued. “I love all of you.” He made a pleased sound and began to move inside of her again. The man must be snacking on Viagra because he seemed to have a permanent hard-on. His voice had a teasing tone as he said, “Do you love my dick?” Warm tingles raced through her and she licked at the slightly salty skin of his chest. “It’s one of my favorite parts.” “Hmmm, what are your other favorite parts?” Once again she wondered if he was fishing for compliments, but it occurred to her that he’d dated woman who always wanted something from him, not Dallas himself. “I love your lips because they kiss me, your hands because they touch me, but most of all I love your mind and your heart because they define who you are, a strong, smart, and compassionate man. My man.” His grunt made her smile as she continued to kiss her way across his chest as he moved slowly inside of her, a constant stroke that made her want to moan with pleasure. “My Amanda.” Kissing her way up to his lips, she whispered against his mouth, “Love you.” “Love you too, mi querida.

Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. Now, now, ma’am, please calm down and tell me what is wrong.” And there was silence and periodically he would offer a sound of listening and taking it in: “Mmm-hmmm. Mmm-hmmm. Yes, ma’am.” After about ten minutes of listening, he said: “Well, you know, ma’am, I really think this is a police matter. If you like, I can connect you to the precinct.” He was comforting in his tone. Soon after, he hung up. I asked what the call was about and he said that it was an old woman who sometimes called. She was mostly lonely and wanted someone to talk to. This time the call was about a plate of cream cheese that had gone missing from her refrigerator. I looked at him and he offered a small smile. But it was compassionate. He was not making fun of her. He was just offering her a willing ear when she needed one.

conference room or something of that sort, the big table in the middle, uhh, and I went in there and actually sat in a couple of chairs because I figured that was my only chance I’d ever have to. NOTE: Everybody wanted to sit in the chairs ... me: Mmm hmmm. Instant Replay: And uh, there was talk of yeah, they were talking about the different things that there’s ... there’s this ornate stuff that there’s like plates and things. And it was a real quick thing of “do not touch anything. Do not break anything. That’s not what we’re here for. That’s what we’re about.” So uh, I don’t think anybody took anything and I don’t think ... I know nothing was broken.

I don’t want a sweet little wife.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want a sassy bitch.” I snicker. “Did you just call me a bitch?” “Mmm-hmmm.