Puppy Kisses Quotes

Why couldn't I have puppy love? I only seem to have "I can't decide if I want to rip your throat out or kiss you" love. Ugh.

Mommy and Daddy make a lot of noise when they kiss. Mommy talks to God a lot. I talk to God sometimes too. I asked him for a puppy and a new monster truck but I was nice and didn't yell at him like Mommy does. He still hasn't gotten me the puppy though.

The wolf stared down at me, paws still on my chest, its shaggy tail thumping from side tot side and spraying us both with snow. It seemed like...it expected me to do something. Maybe my mind was completley gone, because there was only one thing I could thing of right now that might satisfy it. I reached up en awkwardly patted the side of its head, since that was al i could reach. "Nice puppy," I whispered, and passed out.

You said you'd kiss me if I lost Tank." --- "You want me to kiss you?" Oh boy. "You were happy I'd lost your puppy?" He was looking like he was still thinking about smiling as he glanced down at Tank, tucked under his arm. "No. That would make me an asshole." Right...

Walking toward us, he tipped his chin down to nuzzle the puppy before stopping in front of me and dipping his cheek to plant a soft, dry kiss on my cheek that had me rooted in place.

Lollypop ...the passion contained merely kisses placed upon lips, neck and cheek these young lovers of the castle of which our fairytale speaks...

Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time -- it has a hell of a lot to do with hell and suspicion of the eye and the religious objects and how I mourned them when they were made obscene by my dwarf-heart's doodle. The chief ingredient is mutilation. And mud, day after day, mud like a ritual, and the baby on the platter, cooked but still human, cooked also with little maggots, sewn onto it maybe by somebody's mother, the damn bitch! Even so, I kept right on going on, a sort of human statement, lugging myself as if I were a sawed-off body in the trunk, the steamer trunk. This became perjury of the soul. It became an outright lie and even though I dressed the body it was still naked, still killed. It was caught in the first place at birth, like a fish. But I play it, dressed it up, dressed it up like somebody's doll. Is life something you play? And all the time wanting to get rid of it? And further, everyone yelling at you to shut up. And no wonder! People don't like to be told that you're sick and then be forced to watch you come down with the hammer. Today life opened inside me like an egg and there inside after considerable digging I found the answer. What a bargain! There was the sun, her yolk moving feverishly, tumbling her prize -- and you realize she does this daily! I'd known she was a purifier but I hadn't thought she was solid, hadn't known she was an answer. God! It's a dream, lovers sprouting in the yard like celery stalks and better, a husband straight as a redwood, two daughters, two sea urchings, picking roses off my hackles. If I'm on fire they dance around it and cook marshmallows. And if I'm ice they simply skate on me in little ballet costumes. Here, all along, thinking I was a killer, anointing myself daily with my little poisons. But no. I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar. Even with the witches' gymnastics they trust my incalculable city, my corruptible bed. O dearest three, I make a soft reply. The witch comes on and you paint her pink. I come with kisses in my hood and the sun, the smart one, rolling in my arms. So I say Live and turn my shadow three times round to feed our puppies as they come, the eight Dalmatians we didn't drown, despite the warnings: The abort! The destroy! Despite the pails of water that waited, to drown them, to pull them down like stones, they came, each one headfirst, blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue and fumbling for the tiny tits. Just last week, eight Dalmatians, 3/4 of a lb., lined up like cord wood each like a birch tree. I promise to love more if they come, because in spite of cruelty and the stuffed railroad cars for the ovens, I am not what I expected. Not an Eichmann. The poison just didn't take. So I won't hang around in my hospital shift, repeating The Black Mass and all of it. I say Live, Live because of the sun, the dream, the excitable gift.

Sentimentality and nostalgia are closely related. Kissing cousins. I have no time for nostalgia, though. Nostalgics believe the past is nicer than the present. It isn't. Or wasn't. Nostalgics want to cuddle the past like a puppy. But the past has bloody teeth and bad breath. I look into its mouth like a sorrowing dentist.

Joy is found in the simple and ordinary things of life: the smile of a newborn baby, the kiss from a sweet new puppy, and the warm sunshine on a spring day.

Puppy love could never threaten a wolf.

But the moon was so large and clear through the uncurtained window that it made me think instead of a story my mother had told me, about driving to horse shows with her mother and father in the back seat of their old Buick when she was little. “It was a lot of travelling—ten hours sometimes through hard country. Ferris wheels, rodeo rings with sawdust, everything smelled like popcorn and horse manure. One night we were in San Antonio, and I was having a bit of a melt-down—wanting my own room, you know, my dog, my own bed—and Daddy lifted me up on the fairgrounds and told me to look at the moon. ‘When you feel homesick,’ he said, ‘just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go.’ So after he died, and I had to go to Aunt Bess—I mean, even now, in the city, when I see a full moon, it’s like he’s telling me not to look back or feel sad about things, that home is wherever I am.” She kissed me on the nose. “Or where you are, puppy. The center of my earth is you.

Immediately crouching down, Aiden scooped up his blond ball and hoisted him up into those brawny arms that seemed so at odds with the now ten-pound puppy. His eyes swung from Leo to Zac then to me. I was sure we looked pretty suspicious just standing there like deer caught in the headlights, but oh well. I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t look as flustered as I felt. “Hey, big guy.” “Hi.” With the arm that wasn’t holding Leo up, he reached up to stroke down the length of Leo’s spine, his irises bouncing back and forth between Zac and me once more. Walking toward us, he tipped his chin down to nuzzle the puppy before stopping in front of me and dipping his cheek to plant a soft, dry kiss on my cheek that had me rooted in place. What the hell was happening? What in the hell was happening? “I’m going to shower,” Zac said, shooting me a smirk that said ‘See?

Okay.' I can feel the letters vomit off my tongue. O. K. A. Y. I watch the vet insert the syringe into the catheter and inject the second drug. And then the adventures come flooding back: The puppy farm. The gentle untying of the shoelace. THIS! IS! MY! HOME! NOW! Our first night together. Running on the beach. Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee. Shared ice-cream cones. Thanksgivings. Tofurky. Car rides. Laughter. Eye rain. Chicken and rice. Paralysis. Surgery. Christmases. Walks. Dog parks. Squirrel chasing. Naps. Snuggling. 'Fishful Thinking.' The adventure at sea. Gentle kisses. Manic kisses. More eye rain. So much eye rain. Red ball. The veterinarian holds a stethoscope up to Lily's chest, listening for her heartbeat. All dogs go to heaven. 'Your mother's name is Witchie-Poo.' I stroke Lily behind her ears the way that used to calm her. 'Look for her.' OH FUCK IT HURTS. I barely whisper. 'She will take care of you.

I left Abnegation because I wasn't selfless enough,no matter how hard I tried to be." "That's not entirely true." He smiles at me. "That girl who let someone throw knives at her to spare a friend,who hit my dad with a belt to protect me-that selfless girl,that's not you?" He's figured out more about me than I have. And even though it seems impossible that he could feel something for me,given all that I'm not...maybe it isn't.I frown at him. "You've been paying close attention,haven't you?" "I like to observe people." "Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar." He puts his hand on the rock next to him, his fingers lining up with mine. I look down at our hands. He has long, narrow fingers. Hands made for mine, deft movements.Not Dauntless hands, which should be thick and tough and ready to break things. "Fine." He leans his face closer to mine, his eyes focusing on my chin, and my lips,and my nose. "I watched you because I like you." He says it plainly, boldly, and his eyes flick up to mine. "And don't call me 'Four," okay? It's nice to hear my name again." Just like that,he has finally declared himself, and I don't know how to respond. My cheeks warm,and all I can think to say is, "But you're older than I am...Tobias." He smiles at me. "Yes,that whopping two-year gap really is insurmountable, isn't it?" "I'm not trying to be self-deprecating," I say, "I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty.I-" He laughs,a deep laugh that sounds like it came from deep inside him, and touches his lips to my temple. "Don't pretend," I say breathily. "You know I'm not. I'm not ugly,but I am certainly not pretty." "Fine.You're not pretty.So?" He kisses my cheek. "I like how you look. You're deadly smart.You're brave. And even though you found out about Marcus..." His voice softens. "You aren't giving me that look.Like I'm a kicked puppy or something." "Well," I say. "You're not." For a second his dark eyes are on mine, and he's quiet. Then he touches my face and leans in close, brushing my lips with his.The river roars and I feel its spray on my ankles.He grins and presses his mouth to mine. I tense up at first,unsure of myself, so when he pulls away,I'm sure I did something wrong,or badly.But he takes my face in his hands,his figners strong against my skin,and kisses me again, firmer this time, more certain. I wrap an arm around him,sliding my hand up his nack and into his short hair. For a few minutes we kiss,deep in the chasm,with the roar of water all around us. And when we rise,hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently,we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.

Use the word “y’all,” and before you knew it, you’d find yourself in a haystack French-kissing an underage goat. Along with grits and hush puppies, the abbreviated form of you all was a dangerous step on an insidious path leading straight to the doors of the Baptist church.

When you live in New York City, there’s a magical feeling you get whenever you run up the steps out of the subway, spin through a revolving door out of your office building at the end of a long day, push open a window to let in the spring scent of blossoms. There’s a split second where the city hits you, greets you, slobbers a kiss on your face like a puppy. It’s a jolt, and a shock, and then you move on. But there’s a part of you, somewhere, that marvels at it every time.

He had me all turned over and inside out. Just looking at him made me happy. I wanted to run down the steps and jump on him and kiss his face like an excited puppy.

I just need a dozen puppy kisses.

He hadn't love her. She hadn't loved him. Yet they'd cared for each other, and Kestrel remember how he'd set a soft black puppy into her hands. No one had given her such a gift. He'd made her laugh. That, too, was a gift.

School went exactly as Violet thought it would: weird. It wasn’t her best, and it wasn’t her worst, day ever. It was just weird. Jay was true to his word, deciding not to hold anything back. And it started the second they got out of the car, when he claimed her hand and refused to let go, even when Violet tugged and pulled to try to get it away from him. He ignored her mute protests and held on tight, smiling more to himself than to her, and paraded her right into the school like that. Not that they’d never held hands before, because they had. But this was entirely different, and Jay was hell-bent on making sure that everyone knew it. And just in case anyone wondered what the hand-holding actually meant, he made sure to clear things up for them by planting a big, albeit very satisfying, kiss on her lips, right in the middle of the hallway. Violet didn’t try to pull away from that; in fact, she was dismayed to find herself leaning into him, craving more, and not caring—at least at that moment—who might see them together. Unfortunately that person turned out to be Chelsea. Chelsea, of all people, along with Claire, who happened to walk up at very inopportune instant. “Well, well, well,” Chelsea said in an oh-so-innocent voice. “Look what we have here, Claire-bear. It’s old Jay and Violet.” The unconcealed smile was embedded deep in her voice. “Only, and correct me if I’m wrong, this looks a little more than friendly, don’t you think?” “I never kiss my friends like that,” Claire replied, blank-faced and serious, oblivious to sarcasm. Jay’s answer was to pull Violet closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. Violet cringed. Chelsea cocked her head at Claire. “I was just trying to make a point.” Claire looked confused. “What point?” “Seriously, Claire? That Violet and Jay are dating now.” She glanced away from poor confused Claire and flashed a gloating look to the couple in front of her. “It’s about time, by the way. I think everyone will thank you for putting us all out of our misery. I, for one, was completely fed up with watching you two lovesick puppies pining over each other. Seriously, it was disgusting.” She grabbed Claire by the sleeve of her snug, body-hugging hoodie and led her down the hallway, toward their first-period class. Violet watched in stunned silence, processing everything that Chelsea had said to them, as Claire bounded along in Chelsea’s commanding wake. Jay decided that it was his turn to gloat. “You pined for me?” he asked, stupid grin and all. Violet hit him in the arm. “Shut up!” She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure she was talking about you anyway.

He lulled me to sleep and kissed my lips. No one knew that the big, bad wolf is a puppy in disguise.

When he finally broke off the kiss and moved his lips to her neck, then her breast again, sucking her nipples back to hard peaks, Catherine broke from her trance. “No. I really must go. We haven’t time to do this again.” She pushed against his restraining hands and wiggled beneath his body. “Let me up now.” He pulled away from her neck and looked up, his eyes as poignant as a spoken plea. Her heart wrenched and she wished she could spend the rest of the day with him, making love in their secret nest in the loft. She sighed. “Don’t give me puppy dog eyes. I’ve got to go.

He ran his knuckles over her cheek as their gazes met and held. So much. He had been given so much. The sound of their daughters’ high-pitched laughter drew their gazes away from each other nd toward their children. The girls came running toward them, breathless and excited. Their hair was messed in tousled disarray, their gowns were smeared with dirt, their skin was flushed and rosy. They leaped onto the blanket, tumbling over each other like exuberant puppies as they wrapped their chubby arms about his neck. “Papa, Papa, we want a new game!” Morgan thought for a moment, overcome with a profound sense of gratitude. Of all he had been given, perhaps the most significant gift was a deep reverence for life, with all its pain and all its glory. Every loss had meaning. And every day was a new reason for celebration.

and Daddy lifted me up on the fairgrounds and told me to look at the moon. ‘When you feel homesick,’ he said, ‘just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go.’ So after he died, and I had to go to Aunt Bess—I mean, even now, in the city, when I see a full moon, it’s like he’s telling me not to look back or feel sad about things, that home is wherever I am.” She kissed me on the nose. “Or where you are, puppy. The center of my earth is you.” A

I am grateful to you for the rest of my life. And when I say "you," I mean every part of you, including your mind and your smile and your giggle and the mad look you get in your eyes sometimes. If you don't believe that your words have got into my soul, take a look at the painting which I took to the art show (it's called The Puppy and the Pyramid, which is what you might call a clue). But if I don't get to kiss you fairly soon, Lyd, I won't have a soul left to speak of.

But you're worried I'll get in trouble?" I try not to show how much this pleases me. I've managed to ignore him for days now and here I sit. Lapping up his attention like a neglected puppy. My voice takes on an edge. "Why do you care? I've ignored you for days." His smile fades. He looks serious, mockingly so. "Yeah. You got to stop that." I swallow back a laugh. "I can't." "Why?" There's no humor in his eyes now, no mockery. "You like me. You want to be with me." "I never said-" "You didn't have to." I inhale sharply. "Don't do this." He looks at me so fiercely, so intently. Angry again. "I don't have friends. Do you see my hang with anyone besides my jerk cousins? That's for a reason. I keep people away on purpose," he growls. "But then you came along..." I frown and shake my head. His expression softens then, pulls at some part of me. His gaze travels my face, warming the core of me. "Whoever you are, Jacinda, you're someone I have to let in." He doesn't say anything for a while, just studies me in that intense way. His nostrils flare, and again it's like he's taking in my scent or something. He continues, "Somehow, I think I know you. From the first moment I saw you, I felt that I knew you." The words run through me, reminding me of when he let me escape in the mountains. He's good. Protective. I have nothing to fear from him, but everything to fear from his family. I scoot closer, the draw of him too great. My warming core, the vibrations inside my chest feel so natural, so effortless around him. I know I need to be careful, exercise restraint, but it feels too good. The pulse at his neck skips against his flesh. "Jacinda." My skin ripples at his hoarse whisper. I stare up at him, waiting. He slides down to land solidly on my step. He brings his face close to mine, angles his head. His breath is hard. Fast. Fills the space, the inch separating us. I touch his cheek, see my hand shake, and quickly pull it back. He grabs my wrist, places my palm back against his cheek, and closes his eyes like he's in agony. Or bliss. Or maybe both. Like he's never been touched before. My heart squeezes. Like I've never touched anyone before. "Don't stay away from me anymore." I stop myself, just barely, from telling him I won't. I can't promise that. Can't lie. He opens his eyes. Stares starkly, bleakly. "I need you." He says this like it doesn't make sense to him. Like it's the worst possible thing. A misery he must endure. I smile, understanding. Because it's the same for me. "I know." Then he kisses me.

How would your life change if you could read auras? In ways big and small, you would gain knowledge of spiritual truth. That much perhaps you already know. But do you also appreciate that aura reading can bring you down-to-earth benefits? Ordinary things turn amazing, from kissing babies to playing with puppies. If you thought your TV was in color before, wait until you turn on the auras. Yes, auras can be watched on TV. Photos in your daily newspaper, snapshots of family reunions, your favorite baby picture that shows you with chocolate pudding smeared all over your face-all of these have auras. And you can definitely learn to read them.

I’m sipping cranberry-and-ginger-ale punch and talking to Aunt D. about her divorce when Peter Kavinsky walks in wearing a hunter-green sweater with a button-down shirt underneath, carrying a Christmas tin. I almost choke on my punch. Kitty spots him when I do. “You came!” she cries. She runs right into his arms, and he puts down the cookie tin and picks her up and throws her around. When he sets her down, she takes him by the hand and over to the buffet table, where I’m busying myself rearranging the cookie plate. “Look what Peter brought,” she says, pushing him forward. He hands me the cookie tin. “Here. Fruitcake cookies my mom made.” “What are you doing here?” I whisper accusingly. “The kid invited me.” He jerks his head toward Kitty, who has conveniently run back over to the puppy. Josh is standing up now, looking over at us with a frown on his face. “We need to talk.” So now he wants to talk. Well, too late. “We don’t have anything to talk about.” Peter takes me by the elbow and I try to shake him off, but he won’t let go. He steers me into the kitchen. “I want you to make up an excuse to Kitty and leave,” I say. “And you can take your fruitcake cookies with you.” “First tell me why you’re so pissed at me.” “Because!” I burst out. “Everyone is saying how we had sex in the hot tub and I’m a slut and you don’t even care!” “I told the guys we didn’t!” “Did you? Did you tell them that all we did was kiss and that’s all we’ve ever done?” Peter hesitates, and I go on. “Or did you say, ‘Guys, we didn’t have sex in the hot tub,’ wink wink, nudge nudge.

I’m not trying to be self-deprecating,” she says stubbornly. “I just don’t get it. I’m younger. I’m not pretty. I--” I laugh, and kiss her temple. “Don’t pretend,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “You know I’m not. I’m not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty.” The word “pretty,” and all that it represents, seems so completely useless right now that I have no patience for it. “Fine. You’re not pretty. So?” I move my lips to her cheek, trying to work up some courage. “I like how you look.” I pull back. “You’re deadly smart. You’re brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…you aren’t giving me that look. Like I’m…a kicked puppy, or something.” “Well,” she says factually. “You’re not.” My instincts were right: She is worth trusting. With my secrets, with my shame, with the name that I abandoned. With the beautiful truths and the awful ones. I know it.

Necessities 1 A map of the world. Not the one in the atlas, but the one in our heads, the one we keep coloring in. With the blue thread of the river by which we grew up. The green smear of the woods we first made love in. The yellow city we thought was our future. The red highways not traveled, the green ones with their missed exits, the black side roads which took us where we had not meant to go. The high peaks, recorded by relatives, though we prefer certain unmarked elevations, the private alps no one knows we have climbed. The careful boundaries we draw and erase. And always, around the edges, the opaque wash of blue, concealing the drop-off they have stepped into before us, singly, mapless, not looking back. 2 The illusion of progress. Imagine our lives without it: tape measures rolled back, yardsticks chopped off. Wheels turning but going nowhere. Paintings flat, with no vanishing point. The plots of all novels circular; page numbers reversing themselves past the middle. The mountaintop no longer a goal, merely the point between ascent and descent. All streets looping back on themselves; life as a beckoning road an absurd idea. Our children refusing to grow out of their childhoods; the years refusing to drag themselves toward the new century. And hope, the puppy that bounds ahead, no longer a household animal. 3 Answers to questions, an endless supply. New ones that startle, old ones that reassure us. All of them wrong perhaps, but for the moment solutions, like kisses or surgery. Rising inflections countered by level voices, words beginning with w hushed by declarative sentences. The small, bold sphere of the period chasing after the hook, the doubter that walks on water and treads air and refuses to go away. 4 Evidence that we matter. The crash of the plane which, at the last moment, we did not take. The involuntary turn of the head, which caused the bullet to miss us. The obscene caller who wakes us at midnight to the smell of gas. The moon's full blessing when we fell in love, its black mood when it was all over. Confirm us, we say to the world, with your weather, your gifts, your warnings, your ringing telephones, your long, bleak silences. 5 Even now, the old things first things, which taught us language. Things of day and of night. Irrational lightning, fickle clouds, the incorruptible moon. Fire as revolution, grass as the heir to all revolutions. Snow as the alphabet of the dead, subtle, undeciphered. The river as what we wish it to be. Trees in their humanness, animals in their otherness. Summits. Chasms. Clearings. And stars, which gave us the word distance, so we could name our deepest sadness.

I landed on my side, my hip taking the brunt of the fall. It burned and stung from the hit, but I ignored it and struggled to sit up quickly. There really was no point in hurrying so no one would see. Everyone already saw A pair of jean-clad legs appeared before me, and my suitcase and all my other stuff was dropped nearby. "Whatcha doing down there?" Romeo drawled, his hands on his hips as he stared down at me with dancing blue eyes. "Making a snow angel," I quipped. I glanced down at my hands, which were covered with wet snow and bits of salt (to keep the pavement from getting icy). Clearly, ice wasn't required for me to fall. A small group of girls just "happened by", and by that I mean they'd been staring at Romeo with puppy dog eyes and giving me the stink eye. When I fell, they took it as an opportunity to descend like buzzards stalking the dead. Their leader was the girl who approached me the very first day I'd worn Romeo's hoodie around campus and told me he'd get bored. As they stalked closer, looking like clones from the movie Mean Girls, I caught the calculating look in her eyes. This wasn't going to be good. I pushed up off the ground so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable, but the new snow was slick and my hand slid right out from under me and I fell back again. Romeo was there immediately, the teasing light in his eyes gone as he slid his hand around my back and started to pull me up. "Careful, babe." he said gently. The girls were behind him so I knew he hadn't seen them approach. They stopped as one unit, and I braced myself for whatever their leader was about to say. She was wearing painted-on skinny jeans (I mean, really, how did she sit down and still breathe?) and some designer coat with a monogrammed scarf draped fashionably around her neck. Her boots were high-heeled, made of suede and laced up the back with contrasting ribbon. "Wow," she said, opening her perfectly painted pink lips. "I saw that from way over there. That sure looked like it hurt." She said it fairly amicably, but anyone who could see the twist to her mouth as she said it would know better. Romeo paused in lifting me to my feet. I felt his eyes on me. Then his lips thinned as he turned and looked over his shoulder. "Ladies," he said like he was greeting a group of welcomed friends. Annoyance prickled my stomach like tiny needles stabbing me. It's not that I wanted him to be rude, but did he have to sound so welcoming? "Romeo," Cruella DeBarbie (I don't know her real name, but this one fit) purred. "Haven't you grown bored of this clumsy mule yet?" Unable to stop myself, I gasped and jumped up to my feet. If she wanted to call me a mule, I'd show her just how much of an ass I could be. Romeo brought his arm out and stopped me from marching past. I collided into him, and if his fingers hadn't knowingly grabbed hold to steady me, I'd have fallen again. "Actually," Romeo said, his voice calm, "I am pretty bored." Three smirks were sent my way. What a bunch of idiots. "The view from where I'm standing sure leaves a lot to be desired." One by one, their eyes rounded when they realized the view he referenced was them. Without another word, he pivoted around and looked down at me, his gaze going soft. "No need to make snow angels, baby," he said loud enough for the slack-jawed buzzards to hear. "You already look like one standing here with all that snow in your hair." Before I could say a word, he picked me up and fastened his mouth to mine. My legs wound around his waist without thought, and I kissed him back as gentle snow fell against our faces.

Alice's Cutie Code TM Version 2.1 - Colour Expansion Pack (aka Because this stuff won’t stop being confusing and my friends are mean edition) From Red to Green, with all the colours in between (wait, okay, that rhymes, but green to red makes more sense. Dang.) From Green to Red, with all the colours in between Friend Sampling Group: Fennie, Casey, Logan, Aisha and Jocelyn Green  Friends’ Reaction: Induces a minimum amount of warm and fuzzies. If you don’t say “aw”, you’re “dead inside”  My Reaction: Sort of agree with friends minus the “dead inside” but because that’s a really awful thing to say. Puppies are a good example. So is Walter Bishop. Green-Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: A noticeable step up from Green warm and fuzzies. Transitioning from cute to slightly attractive. Acceptable crush material. “Kissing.”  My Reaction: A good dance song. Inspirational nature photos. Stuff that makes me laugh. Pairing: Madison and Allen from splash Yellow  Friends’ Reaction: Something that makes you super happy but you don’t know why. “Really pretty, but not too pretty.” Acceptable dating material. People you’d want to “bang on sight.”  My Reaction: Love songs for sure! Cookies for some reason or a really good meal. Makes me feel like it’s possible to hold sunshine, I think. Character: Maxon from the selection series. Music: Carly Rae Jepsen Yellow-Orange  Friends’ Reaction: (When asked for non-sexual examples, no one had an answer. From an objective perspective, *pushes up glasses* this is the breaking point. Answers definitely skew toward romantic or sexual after this.)  My Reaction: Something that really gets me in my feels. Also art – oil paintings of landscapes in particular. (What is with me and scenery? Maybe I should take an art class) Character: Dean Winchester. Model: Liu Wren. Orange  Friends’ Reaction: “So pretty it makes you jealous. Or gay.”  “Definitely agree about the gay part. No homo, though. There’s just some really hot dudes out there.”(Feenie’s side-eye was so intense while the others were answering this part LOLOLOLOLOL.) A really good first date with someone you’d want to see again.  My Reaction: People I would consider very beautiful. A near-perfect season finale. I’ve also cried at this level, which was interesting. o Possible tie-in to romantic feels? Not sure yet. Orange-Red  Friends’ Reaction: “When lust and love collide.” “That Japanese saying ‘koi no yokan.’ It’s kind of like love at first sight but not really. You meet someone and you know you two have a future, like someday you’ll fall in love. Just not right now.” (<-- I like this answer best, yes.) “If I really, really like a girl and I’m interested in her as a person, guess. I’d be cool if she liked the same games as me so we could play together.”  My Reaction: Something that gives me chills or has that time-stopping factor. Lots of staring. An extremely well-decorated room. Singers who have really good voices and can hit and hold superb high notes, like Whitney Houston. Model: Jasmine Tooke. Paring: Abbie and Ichabod from Sleepy Hollow o Romantic thoughts? Someday my prince (or princess, because who am I kidding?) will come? Red (aka the most controversial code)  Friends’ Reaction: “Panty-dropping levels” (<-- wtf Casey???).  “Naked girls.” ”Ryan. And ripped dudes who like to cook topless.”  “K-pop and anime girls.” (<-- Dear. God. The whole table went silent after he said that. Jocelyn was SO UNCOMFORTABLE but tried to hide it OMG it was bad. Fennie literally tried to slap some sense into him.)  My Reaction: Uncontrollable staring. Urge to touch is strong, which I must fight because not everyone is cool with that. There may even be slack-jawed drooling involved. I think that’s what would happen. I’ve never seen or experienced anything that I would give Red to.

She cupped my face. “Wilbur, you are so sexy when you’re not pretending to be an eighties butt-rocker.” “You know what’s not sexy?” “What?” she said on a breath between laying kisses on my cheek. “June pooping on the floor.” Mia jumped off my lap and darted over to the kitchen, screeching in her highest voice. “No, no, no, Juney.” She caught our little puppy mid-poop and picked her up, held her arms out and screamed, “What do I do?” There was no way Mia would be able to get June outside without leaving a trail of poop in her wake. “Put her over the toilet!” I followed her as she ran down the hallway and into our tiny bathroom at the end. She held the squirming puppy over the toilet until the doggie business was complete. Setting June on the ground, she glanced up at me, frowned, and then mumbled, “I’m gonna be a terrible mother.” I helped her up and then stood behind her at the sink as she washed her hands. “No, you’re going to be perfect.” I smirked when she looked at me in the mirror. “You did exactly the right thing. First you screamed and charged at her with your arms flailing around, and then you basically held her by the neck while you ran around in a circle yelling. That is exactly what you will probably do if the same situation happens to play out with one of our babies.” “Thanks a lot.

David Greene was kind, and he had a sense of humor. He made your mother laugh.” That was all Gran could muster up? “Did you not like him?” “He wasn’t a big believer in Tarot. Humor aside, he was a very practical man. From New England,” she added, as if that explained everything. “I’d been wearing Karen down about the Arcana—until she met him. Before I knew it, your mother was pregnant. Even then, I sensed you were the Empress.” “He didn’t want us to live up north?” “David planned to move there.” Her gaze went distant. “To move you—the great Empress—away from her Haven.” That must have gone over well. “In the end, I convinced them not to go.” ...... I opened up the family albums. As I scrolled through them, her eyes appeared dazed, as if she wasn’t seeing the images. Yet then she stared at a large picture of my father. I said, “I wish I could remember him.” “David used to carry you around the farm on his shoulders,” she said. “He read to you every night and took you to the river to skip stones. He drove you around to pet every baby animal born in a ten-mile radius. Lambs, kittens, puppies.” She drew a labored breath. “He brought you to the crops and the gardens. Even then, you would pet the bark of an oak and kiss a rose bloom. If the cane was sighing that day, you’d fall asleep in his arms.” I imagined it all: the sugarcane, the farm, the majestic oaks, the lazy river that always had fish jumping. My roots were there, but I knew I would never go back. Jack’s dream had been to return and rebuild Haven. A dream we’d shared. I would feel like a traitor going home without him. Plus, it’d be too painful. Everything would remind me of the love I’d lost. “David’s death was so needless,” she said. “Don’t know what he was doing near that cane crusher.” “David’s death was so needless,” she said. “Don’t know what he was doing near that cane crusher.” I snapped my gaze to her. “What do you mean? He disappeared on a fishing trip in the Basin.” She frowned at me. “He did. Of course.” Chills crept up my spine. Was she lying? Why would she, unless . . .

Do you remember that I said I have something to show you?" Back when they were entering the house. Before she'd seen Hugh. Before their argument. "Yes?" He pushed open the door to her bedroom. "Look." She went inside and saw Valente sitting on the floor in front of her fireplace with a basket. He had a silly grin on his face. She glanced over her shoulder to Raphael. "What-?" Her husband tilted his chin toward Valente and the basket. "Go and see." At the same time she heard an animal whimper. Her lips parted and she picked up her skirts to hurry to the basket. It was lined with a soft blanket and inside was the sweetest little blond puppy, looking very sorry for itself. Iris stared, torn. Did Raphael think a 'puppy' would be an adequate substitution for him? The moment the puppy saw her it began whimpering and yipping, trying to climb from its wicker prison, but its legs were too short to make the attempt and it ended by falling backward, revealing that it was female. It was hardly the puppy's fault that she was angry with Raphael. "Oh," Iris breathed, sinking to her knees on the carpet opposite Valente. "She's perfect." Somehow the words made tears start in her eyes again. She picked up the puppy, which wriggled in Iris's hands until she held the small animal against her chest. The puppy promptly began licking Iris's chin with a tiny pink tongue. Iris looked up at Raphael through her tears. "What is her name?" He shook his head. "She has none that I know of. You must give her one." Iris stood, cradling the still-squirming puppy carefully, and went to her husband. "Thank you." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips, trying to convey all she'd said before. All he'd pushed aside. 'Stay. Stay. Stay.' Raphael took her arms gently and kissed her, angling his face over hers. He embraced her as if she were a lifeline. As if he wished to remain with her forever. The puppy yelped and he took a step back, breaking the kiss. Drawing away from her without effort. He walked out of the bedroom. Iris closed her eyes to keep her sorrow and tears in. She kissed the top of the puppy's silky head and whispered in her ear, "Tansy.

Your daughter is delightful!" Sejanus was saying to Aelia. I gripped the edge of the bench and bit my tongue as he spoke. "She is a living testament to the good looks that seem to follow the gens Aelia." Aelia smiled. "Cousin, you flatter me." Sejanus had set the tone for the evening with the clear slight against the Gavia clan. "It's only a shame I share the name through adoption- not blood- or who knows how much more attractive I might have been!" Nearby guests laughed at the joke but to me it seemed the true intent was to point out that Apicius had, at least at one time, found him attractive. Sejanus looked directly at Apicius directly as he spoke, a smile on his face. Apicius gave away nothing. He waved a boy over with a tray. "Have you tried the fried hare livers, Sejanus?" Apicata jumped up and down and smiled at her father. "May I? May I?" Her father smiled. Apicata could always melt his heart. "Only one and don't share with Perseus!" The serving boy lowered the tray so she could reach for the liver but not so low that the jumping puppy could steal treats for himself. She snatched a morsel and popped it into her mouth. I knew what she tasted, a sublime mixture of textures, the crispy breaded exterior and the smooth, sumptuous richness of the liver itself. The combination is unexpected. When I first introduced the recipe, it immediately became a family favorite. Apicata turned to Sejanus. She did not appear to recognize him from the market. "Oh, you must try! These are my favorite!" "If you say so, I must try!" Sejanus reached for the tray. He took a bite of the liver and surprise registered in his eyes. Sejanus reached for another liver. "Where on earth did you find your cook?" "Baiae." Aelia reached for her own sample. "Thrasius's cooking is always exceptional. Wait until you try the hyacinth bulbs!" "Hyacinth bulbs are one of my favorites." Sejanus ran his fingers affectionately through Apicata's hair as he talked. I stared, wondering what his intentions were. My right eye began to twitch. Apicius nodded at Passia to come forward and collect Apicata and her puppy. The girl went begrudgingly and only after Sejanus had planted a kiss on her forehead and promised he would visit again soon.

Rose barely poured herself a cup of hot, mouth-watering chocolate, when she saw Grey and Archer walking across the lawn. Archer was impeccable as always, but Grey was a mess. His clothes were the same he’d worn the night before, and obviously slept in. His shirt, open at the throat, revealed a glimpse of tanned flesh that made her heart twitch and her gingers itch to touch him. His hair was mussed, and stubble covered his cheeks and jaw, except where prohibited by his scar. In short, he looked absolutely beautiful-a fallen angel. The only thing that made him remotely human was that scar, and she could easily tell herself he got that from battling the archangel Gabriel before being thrown out of heaven. She squinted as she realize Grey held something against his chest-something that moved. Was that a puppy? She jumped to her feet, and skipped down the few steps that took her down to the lawn. Lifting the skirts of her yellow morning gown, she hurried to meet them. “Good morning!” she cried. “What have you there?” Archer smiled in greeting, but Rose barely noticed. Her gaze was riveted on the man looking at her with an expression so hopeful it neigh on broke her heart. “I brought you something,” he said, his voice low and strangely rough. “A gift.” And then he held out his arms and offered her the sweetest face she’d ever seen. “Oh!” What an idiot she must seem, her eyes welling with tears over a dog, but she didn’t care. She let the tears come and slip down her cheeks as she took the warm, silky animal into her own arms, burying her face against its fur. “Grey, thank you!” “He’s too young to be away from his mother yet, but he’s yours if you want hm.” “Of course I want him! He’s beautiful.” He ran a hand through the thick tangle of his hair. “I didn’t know that you’d never had a dog before.” Rose cast a glance at Archer, who shrugged. “Telling my secrets are you, Lord Archer?” What else had he revealed? Grey’s brother shot her a sincere glance. “Only that one, Lady Rose. I did not think you would mind.” “And I don’t.” Turning her attention back to the squirming puppy in her arms, Rose was rewarded with a lick to the chin. “He’ll need to go back to the stables in a few minutes,” Grey told her. “But you can see him whenever you like.” With her free hand, Rose reached out and took one of Grey’s. His fingers were so big and strong next to hers. She squeezed and then let go, letting him know with a touch just how much his gift meant to her. “I love him. Thank you so very much.” “What are you going to name him?” he asked. Rose tore her gaze away from the pleasure in his, lest she do something stupid like kiss him in front of his brother. Instead, she cast a small, secretive smile at Archer. “Heathcliff,” she replied. “His name is Heathcliff.

What is your name?” she said crossing her legs. “I am Raj Singhania, owner of Singhania group of Industries and I am on my way to sign a 1000 crore deal.” “Oh my God, Oh my God!” she said laughing and looked at Bobby from top to bottom. “What’s with this OMG thing and girls, stop saying that. I am not going to propose you anytime soon. But it’s OK. I can understand how girls feel when they meet famous dudes like me,” Bobby said smiling. “What kind of an idiot are you?” she said laughing. “Indeed, a very rare one. The one that you find after searching for millions of years,” Bobby said. “Do you always talk like this?” she said laughing. “Only to strangers on bus or whenever I get bored,” Bobby said. “OK, tell me your real name,” she said. “My name is Mogaliputta Tissa and I am here to save the world.” “Oh no not again!” she said squeezing her head with both her hands. “I know you are dying inside to kiss me,” Bobby said flashing a smile. “Why would I kiss you?” she said with a pretended sternness. “Because, you are impressed with my intelligence level and the hotness quotient, I can see that in your eyes.” “You think you are hot! Oh no! You look like that cartoon guy in 7 up commercial,” she said laughing. “Thank you. He was the coolest guy I saw on TV,” Bobby said. “OK fine, let’s calm down. Tell me your real name,” she said calmly. “I don’t remember my name,” Bobby said calmly. “What kind of idiot forgets his name?” she said staring into Bobby’s eyes. “I am suffering from multiple personality disorder and I forgot my present personality’s name. Can you help me out?” Bobby said with an innocent look on his face. “I will kill you with my hair clip. Leave me alone,” she said and closed her eyes. “You look like a Pomeranian puppy,” Bobby said looking at her hair. “Don’t talk to me,” she said. “You look very beautiful,” Bobby said. “Nice try but I am not going to open my eyes,” she said. “Your ear rings are very nice. But I think that girl in the last seat has better rings,” Bobby said. “She is not wearing any ear rings. I know because I saw her when I was getting inside. It takes just 5 seconds for a girl to know what other girls around her are wearing,” she said with her eyes still closed. “Hey, look. They are selling porn CDs at a roadside shop,” Bobby said. “I have loads of porn in my personal computer. I don’t need them,” she said. “OMG, that girl looks hotter than you,” Bobby said. “I will not open my eyes no matter what. Even if an earthquake hits the road, I will not open my eyes,” she said crossing her arms over her chest. Bobby turned back and waved his hand to the kid who was poking his mom’s ear. The kid came running and halted at Bobby’s seat. “This aunty wants to give you a chocolate if you tell her your name,” Bobby whispered to the kid and the kid perked up smiling. “Hello Aunty! Wake up, my name is Bintu. Give me my chocolate, Aunty, please!” the kid said yanking at the girl’s hand. All of a sudden, she opened her eyes and glared at the kid. “Don’t call me aunty. What would everyone think? I am a teenage girl. Go away. I don’t have anything to give you,” she said and the kid went back to his seat. “This is what happens when you mess with an intelligent person like me,” Bobby said laughing. “Shut up,” she said. “OK dude.” “I am not a dude. Stop it.” “OK sexy. Oops! OK Saxena,” “I will scream.” “OK. Where do you study?” “Why should I tell you?” “Are you suffering from split personality disorder like me?” Bobby said staring into her eyes. “Shut up. Don’t talk to me,” she said with a pout. “What the hell! I have enlightened your mind with my thoughts, told you my name and now you are acting like you don’t know me. Girls are mad.

Really? A dog? Not a noble wolf?” “No. A dog. Very cuddly, one that likes to be petted.” “Well, that is true.” Boris took Hans’s hand and brought it down to cup his hard shaft. “I would much rather be petted by you and Thomas than hunt caribou in Siberia. So… the Russian for ‘dog’ is sabakah.” “Sabakah,” Hans repeated. “But for a pet name, maybe sabakee is better. That means ‘doggy.’” Boris grinned at him. With his hair messed up, as usual, and when he was being goofy, he did remind Hans of a ‘doggy.’ “That’s perfect, sabakee.” Hans laughed. “Puppy,” Boris purred. Then their mouths merged, and Boris found Hans’s stiff cock. For a long time, they panted heavily into each other’s mouths as they stroked. Before they could climax, Boris broke the kiss and murmured, “Thomas is watching. I think he is jealous.” “There’s no reason for him to be alone

I do not know what I am saying, puppy. Change frightens me. My anxiety and depression… these things are easier to control when I feel safe and secure. But I like having you around. I hope you decide to move in with us, even though I am crazy.” Hans laughed and gave him an affectionate smile. “I don’t think your therapist would like you talking like that.” “No. Thomas does not like it either.” “I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Hans said. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” “Good.” Boris smiled, let go of his hand, and stood. “Oh, yes. Thomas tells me he kisses you now. This is good. I have no problem with it, so do not feel you have to make sure I am out of the room or anything stupid like that.” “You can kiss me too, if you want.” “I was hoping you would say that,” Boris said, grinning. “I do want. But I have been sleeping all day, and I have really bad breath. May I kiss you tomorrow?” “You may.” Hans had already figured out Boris had bad breath. He might have been willing to overlook it, but considering how tentative things were between them, it was probably better to wait. “I am looking forward to it. Goodnight, puppy.” Boris slipped from the room but stopped halfway out the door. Hans heard Thomas’s voice, though it was too quiet for him to make out what he was saying. Boris said something in response, and this time Hans could tell it was in Russian.

Kissing Boris was very different from kissing Thomas. Thomas was gentle and sweet, almost painfully so, but Boris was all aggression and passion, as if he desperately wanted to throw Hans across the bar and fuck him into oblivion. They were both wonderful in their own way. Hans moaned and forced himself to pull away. “Maybe we should stop. Thomas—” “I promise,” Boris interrupted, “I will give Thomas special attention later.” He turned to his husband. “This is okay now?” Thomas smiled at them. “It’s very much okay. I’m not jealous. I love seeing the two of you happy.” “I don’t want you to think I’m more attracted to Boris than to you,” Hans said, hoping he wasn’t crossing a line. “I like both of you.” “We like you too, puppy,” Thomas said

I do not want to keep these things from you. I adore you, puppy. I am just afraid of losing Thomas.” It was nice hearing Boris say that, but it didn’t make Hans feel much better. He’d still behaved like a child throwing a tantrum. These two men were giving him everything—a job he liked doing, a great place to live, good food, fantastic sex, affection—and he’d blown up because they had a couple of things they liked to reserve for themselves. “I’m sorry. I do understand.” Boris reached out and took his hand. “I will start teaching you if you really want to learn. Thomas tells me it is a very hard language for English speakers. The vocabulary is strange.” “Really?” Hans asked, growing ridiculously excited, as if someone had just handed him the map to Blackbeard’s treasure. “It will take a very long time, puppy, before you can understand the things Thomas and I say to each other. But we have been rude. We should not speak so much in front of you.” “No!” Hans exclaimed. “Don’t do that. I want to start picking up phrases. You should talk in front of me more!” Boris laughed. “I had no idea this was so important to you. You really want to be close to us.” “I do!” Boris pulled him in for a long kiss, caressing his back and then sliding his hand partway under Hans’s ass. By the time the kiss ended, they both had raging hard-ons. “You want a pet name for me, puppy?” “Yes!

We do not have to do anything without you, malish,” Boris insisted. They were in bed, cuddling after dinner as usual, and Hans kissed Thomas on the shoulder. “We aren’t children. We can keep our libidos in check for a few hours.” “I don’t want you to,” Thomas said. “Yes, I’m jealous—of both of you, really. Not just Boris, anymore.” Hans wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he was glad to hear it. “But you’re my boys, right?” “Right,” Hans and Boris answered in unison. “I know Boris loves me. And, Hans… you care for me, don’t you?” “I care for you a lot.” Hans wanted to say more than just that, but things weren’t there for them. Not yet. Perhaps they never would be. Thomas and Boris were always going to be the couple, and Hans, no matter how long he stayed with them, would always be on the outside. “I feel the same way about Boris,” he added truthfully. Thomas smiled. He put his arms around his two lovers, pulling them close. “We care about you too, puppy.” “A lot,” Boris added.

He’s going to kill me. Hans had been worrying himself sick about it all day, waiting for Thomas to come home. The sex between him and Boris that afternoon had been good—very good—and when they’d lain panting together in the master bedroom, messy and deeply satisfied, Hans had kissed Boris on the mouth and whispered, “I love you.” The smile on Boris’s face had faded, and he’d said gently, “I know, puppy.” “You don’t feel the same?” That had hurt. A lot. “I do, but this is very serious. And dangerous. It is a much bigger thing than sex.” “I’m sorry.” Boris smiled sadly, caressing his shoulder. “We must tell Thomas.” “What if he’s angry?” Hans asked, a tendril of fear creeping up along his spine.

Oh, puppy…,” Thomas sighed. “I’m not sure that’s what you meant by making you feel my love,” Hans said, panting. Thomas chuckled and ran a hand through Hans’s hair. “I felt it. It wasn’t just sex. I felt you. I felt both of you.” “I love you,” Hans insisted. “I know,” Thomas said. “And I think I’ve been denying that I love you because I didn’t want to hurt Boris.” “I suspected,” Boris said with a shrug. “You know how I feel.” “You really do still love me? Not just as a friend, not like a brother, not like a fuckbuddy… You are still in love with me?” “Malish,” Boris said, drawing lines through the come trickling down Thomas’s side, “my love for you has not changed. I still adore you. I still get a hard-on just thinking about you. I would do anything for you—including ending our relationship with Hans, if that was the only way for you to be happy.” Hans hated to hear that. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, especially after what had just happened between the three of them. Boris moved forward and kissed his forearm, just as Hans thought about pulling away from them. “But please do not send the puppy away,” Boris continued. “I love him too. I would be very unhappy to lose him.” “Hans isn’t going anywhere,” Thomas said. “At least, I don’t want him to.” He stroked the side of Hans’s face. “I love him too.” Hans went from devastated to overflowing with emotion in a microsecond. He smiled and closed his eyes against the sting of tears. “I love you. Both of you.” “You’re growing hard again,” Thomas said, laughing. “I can feel it. Do you want to do something about that?” “You must be pretty worn out by now.” “I doubt I could come again,” Thomas admitted. “Not for an hour or so, anyway. But I think you can fuck me again if you take it slow.” Boris roused himself from the torpor he normally drifted into after he’d had an orgasm. “No. I am vetoing this. If you need more fucking, you can stick it in my ass. Thomas will probably be in severe pain tomorrow as it is.” Thomas laughed. “It’s hard for me to say. Things are kind of numb down there

You’ve been paying close attention, haven’t you?” she asks, like she just read my mind. But she’s not talking about me looking at her face. “I like to observe people,” I say slyly. “Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you’re a terrible liar.” I set my hand down next to hers and lean closer. “Fine.” Her long, narrow nose is no longer swollen from the attack, and neither is her mouth. She has a nice mouth. “I watched you because I like you. And…don’t call me ‘Four,’ okay? It’s…nice. To hear my name again.” She looks momentarily bewildered. “But you’re older than I am…Tobias.” It sounds so good when she says it. Like it’s nothing to be ashamed of. “Yes, that whopping two-year gap really is insurmountable, isn’t it?” “I’m not trying to be self-deprecating,” she says stubbornly. “I just don’t get it. I’m younger. I’m not pretty. I--” I laugh, and kiss her temple. “Don’t pretend,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “You know I’m not. I’m not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty.” The word “pretty,” and all that it represents, seems so completely useless right now that I have no patience for it. “Fine. You’re not pretty. So?” I move my lips to her cheek, trying to work up some courage. “I like how you look.” I pull back. “You’re deadly smart. You’re brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…you aren’t giving me that look. Like I’m…a kicked puppy, or something.” “Well,” she says factually. “You’re not.” My instincts were right: She is worth trusting. With my secrets, with my shame, with the name that I abandoned. With the beautiful truths and the awful ones. I know it. I touch my lips to hers. Our eyes meet, and I grin, and kiss her again, this time more sure of it. It’s not enough. I pull her closer, kiss her harder. She comes alive, putting her arms around me and leaning into me and it’s still not enough, how can it be?

I watched you because I like you. And…don’t call me ‘Four,’ okay? It’s…nice. To hear my name again.” She looks momentarily bewildered. “But you’re older than I am…Tobias.” It sounds so good when she says it. Like it’s nothing to be ashamed of. “Yes, that whopping two-year gap really is insurmountable, isn’t it?” “I’m not trying to be self-deprecating,” she says stubbornly. “I just don’t get it. I’m younger. I’m not pretty. I--” I laugh, and kiss her temple. “Don’t pretend,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “You know I’m not. I’m not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty.” The word “pretty,” and all that it represents, seems so completely useless right now that I have no patience for it. “Fine. You’re not pretty. So?” I move my lips to her cheek, trying to work up some courage. “I like how you look.” I pull back. “You’re deadly smart. You’re brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…you aren’t giving me that look. Like I’m…a kicked puppy, or something.” “Well,” she says factually. “You’re not.

I’m not trying to be self-deprecating,” she says stubbornly. “I just don’t get it. I’m younger. I’m not pretty. I--” I laugh, and kiss her temple. “Don’t pretend,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “You know I’m not. I’m not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty.” The word “pretty,” and all that it represents, seems so completely useless right now that I have no patience for it. “Fine. You’re not pretty. So?” I move my lips to her cheek, trying to work up some courage. “I like how you look.” I pull back. “You’re deadly smart. You’re brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…you aren’t giving me that look. Like I’m…a kicked puppy, or something.” “Well,” she says factually. “You’re not.” My instincts were right: She is worth trusting. With my secrets, with my shame, with the name that I abandoned. With the beautiful truths and the awful ones. I know it. I touch my lips to hers. Our eyes meet, and I grin, and kiss her again, this time more sure of it. It’s not enough. I pull her closer, kiss her harder. She comes alive, putting her arms around me and leaning into me and it’s still not enough, how can it be?

I like how you look.” I pull back. “You’re deadly smart. You’re brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…you aren’t giving me that look. Like I’m…a kicked puppy, or something.” “Well,” she says factually. “You’re not.” My instincts were right: She is worth trusting. With my secrets, with my shame, with the name that I abandoned. With the beautiful truths and the awful ones. I know it. I touch my lips to hers. Our eyes meet, and I grin, and kiss her again, this time more sure of it. It’s not enough. I pull her closer, kiss her harder. She comes alive, putting her arms around me and leaning into me and it’s still not enough, how can it be?

I don’t care who knows, babe. It sucks not being able to be near you like I want to just ’cause Dre or Nicky might be watching. You hafta know I wanna kiss you, like, all the damn time.” “Why?” Jesse wasn’t fishing for compliments. He really didn’t understand. “You actually mean that?” Jesse nodded his head miserably. Shane lifted his chin. “Because you’re smart, and funny, and I can’t even hear a single note you sing without getting all turned on…and, well, because I’m falling for you. Like, hard.” Shane’s forehead wrinkled, his eyes went puppy-dog droopy. “Don’t you feel the same way about me?” Shane’s sudden insecurity was sweet and sad and so very endearing. “Of course I do. But you’re Shane. I’m just…” A nerd. Ugly, squishy, pale, and too damn blind to get rid of these dumb ass glasses. “There is no ‘just’ anything. Jess, you’re my boyfriend. Right?

Happiness is....tender puppy kisses on my nose...

didn't thank didn't wave goodbye didn't flutter the air with kisses a mound of gifts unwrapped bed unmade no appetite always elsewhere though it was raining elsewhere though strangers peopled the streets though we at home slaved and baked and wept and hung ornaments and perfumed the dark did he marvel did he thank was he grateful did he know was he human was he there always elsewhere: didn't thank didn't kiss toothbrush stiffened with unuse puppy whining in the hall car battery dead sweaters unraveled was that human? Went where?

Once we'd balled up our burrito wrappers and tossed them into the trash, Jake and I walked several blocks from El Farolito to the home of Gus, a rescued shepherd mix that I walked a few afternoons each week. Jake sat on the stoop while I ran upstairs. As usual, Gus was waiting for me at the door of his apartment,; I could hear his tail pounding the floor as I turned the key in the lock. Once I got inside, he hopped around me, nipping delicately at my fingers, nails clackety-clacking at the floor, his tail an ecstatic black blur. I knelt down in front of him, pressed his floppy, expressive ears flat back against his head, and planted a kiss on the side of his long, black schnoz. He whined happily, his whole body shimmying. Gus was one of those dogs who had an entirely different personality at home, where his sense of security gave him the confidence to be joyous and goofy. Out on the street, the shelter pup in him came out and he turned skittish and sorrowful, his tan quotation mark eyebrows pressing together to turn his forehead into a series of of anxious wrinkles. Needless to say, I was gaga for Gus and his layered personality. Downstairs, I could see right away that Jake loved dogs as much as I did. I had to warn him not to try too hard with Gus; too much attention from a stranger would only make Gus more nervous out there in the big loud world. Jake managed to restrain himself for half a block, but soon was cooing down to Gus, running his hand down the length of his silky black-and-tan coat, and passing him a little piece of chorizo from a napkin that he'd somehow slipped into his pocket at El Farolito without me noticing. Gus pressed himself against Jack's leg and looked adoringly up at him as he gobbled the meat, his tail for a moment wagging as freely as it did at home.

I think I’m in love,” Hannah said, sighing at the sweet kisses little Homer was placing all over her face. Was there anything sweeter than puppy breath?

And my very first kiss was a complete and utter SHAM!! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!! (That was me screaming!!!) ☹!!

Walking toward us, he tipped his chin down to nuzzle the puppy before stopping in front of me and dipping his mouth to plant a soft, dry kiss on my cheek that had me rooted in place. What the hell was happening? What in the hell was happening? “I’m going to shower,” Zac said, shooting me a smirk that said “See?

Boyfriend #11 Clark Barnyard, Age Twenty-Three Still not over boyfriend #9 and humiliated by #10, Jane declared she would shed her victimhood and become the elusive predator--fierce, independent, solitary!...except there was this guy at work, Clark. He’d made her laugh during company meetings, he’d share his fries with her at lunch, declaring that she needed fattening up. He was in layout at the magazine, and she’d go to his cubicle and sit on the edge of his desk, chatting for longer than made her manager comfortable. He was a few years younger than her, so it seemed innocent somehow. When he asked her out at last, despite the dark stickiness of foreboding, she didn’t turn him down. He cooked her dinner at his place and was goofy and tender, nuzzling her neck and making puppy noises. They started to kiss on the couch, and it was nice or approximately sixty seconds until his hand started hunting for her bra hooks. In the front. It was so not Mr. Darcy. “Whoa, there, cowboy,” she said, but he was “in the groove” and had to be told to stop three or four times before he finally pried his fingers off her breasts and stood up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the problem, honey?” he asked, his voice stumbling on that last word. She said he was moving too fast, and he said, then what in the hell had they been building up to over the past six months? Jane sized up the situation to her own satisfaction: “You are no gentleman.” Then Clark summed up in his own special way: “Hasta la vista, baby.”

There were a few things that really peeved a lion. Stealing his sunny nap spot. Messing up his mane. Eating the last donut. Yanking his fucking tail! Reflex had him spin on the brat who’d sneaked up on him. Well, sneaked up if he ignored the fact he knew she was behind him. Let her think she had him. He was so enchanted by the emergence of a playful side that he didn’t want to ruin her fun. A fun that ended when she yanked his tail. Rawr! He spun and shot her a baleful glare. For a moment she froze. A tremble went through her. She was scared. Ah hell. Surely she knew by now he’d never hurt her? But then again, could he expect years of abuse and habit to disappear after spending just over a day with him? He wondered what she’d do. Would she run or give him the broken puppy eyes? Why did this have to happen at all? Why did he have to look so fearsome? Was it his fault his lion was so impressive and scary? Was it— Wait a second, was she laughing? He eyed her. Yup. She was. Laughing and snorting. Now he glared for real. She chortled louder. “Oh. Oh.” She gasped. “If only you could see your expression.” He’d show her an expression. He shifted into his human self, but even his impressive nakedness couldn’t stem her mirth. He stood and then stalked, each long stride bringing him closer, and her laughter dampening until it stopped altogether. He almost applauded when she peered at him instead of staring at her toes. “Am I in trouble?” “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.” Blackmail? Hell yeah. He’d do anything for a kiss. “If you want a kiss, you’ll have to catch me. Tag, you’re it.” She shoved him, open-palmed against his chest, before bolting, her lithe body a quick blur that soon disappeared from sight. Seriously? She was just awesomeness wrapped in a layer of perfection with a dab of naughty he was really loving.

I feel charged, coiled, and ready to spring. Anger and fear is displaced by focus. My mind yields command to my body. Luke leans in for another kiss. Target acquired. Before I can think, my left arm shoots out like a piston, and the heel of my hand connects with his nose. He yelps like a puppy and staggers backwards. Blood gushes. And he looks extremely pissed off.

My mouth went dry as I tried to remember all of Poppie’s tips for kissing over the years. She told me no guy wanted a girl with a mouth as wide as a guppy, who sucked his tongue with the force of a Dyson vacuum cleaner first time, or licked him to death like an overeager puppy. She’d told me to just purse my lips and let him lead and take control. Don’t slobber, don’t slobber, don’t slobber, I chanted to myself as he got closer and closer

Now my face is flushed too. And then out of nowhere, I’m leaning toward Annie. I’m not thinking. I’m too tired and worn out to think. I’m inches away from her now. She smells like baby powder and mint. She freezes. Her face is stiff, her eyes too large. And then the tiny Annie smile flashes across her lips and I know she wants to kiss me too. Her lips feel springy, her breath smells like spearmint, her hair is as soft as puppy fur. Who knew kissing Annie Bomini would feel so nice? We sit there for a minute, my arm warm against hers. The sun is down now, but it isn’t night yet. One time is gone and the other has not yet begun. We get up and start walking back to 64. “Forget we did that,” I say. “I’ve already forgotten,” she says. But I’m still holding her hand and I won’t let go.

Jim Biggers looked down at the puppy playing tug-of-war with one of his bootlaces. “Quit it,” he growled, gently shaking it off. The puppy yapped and scampered away, bumping into Truck’s furry side and bouncing off. The big dog didn’t bat an eye, but he raised his head when he heard a car door slam outside. Another puppy tumbled off his back as he got up. Jim rose too, looking out the window. “She’s here,” he announced, throwing down his pencil. In another minute Kenzie and Linc walked in. One of the puppies ran to her and she squatted down to say hi. “Oh my gosh. You are so cute!” “I can’t compete,” Jim grumbled to Linc. The puppy yapped and ran away. Kenzie went around to the other side of the desk to kiss her boss on the cheek. “Sorry.” Jim grinned. “You’re forgiven. How are you doing, Linc?” He’d noticed that the younger man was still limping. There wasn’t any need to mention it specifically. “Better every day, thanks. How did Truck get stuck with babysitting?” “I promised him half a steak,” Jim said. “He fell for it.” An eager puppy chomped down hard on Truck’s ear, then put his head and paws down in play position, wagging his stubby tail. “Poor Truck,” Kenzie said sympathetically. She looked back to Jim. “Why are they here? I mean, they’re cute but way too young to start with us.” “Merry Jenkins is fostering them for me. But she’s gone for the next two days, so I have them. It’s been fun. I’m seeing plenty of potential.” He glanced at the floor, frowning. “And a few puddles.” He unrolled several sheets from the paper towel dispenser on his desk and let them drift to the floor. A puppy pounced on the white stuff and dragged it away. Jim rolled his eyes. He unrolled more paper towels, and this time he put his boot down on them. “I can’t wait to come back full-time,” Kenzie said. “When you’re ready. Not a minute before,” Jim said sternly. “Everything’s under control. No rush.” Linc looked down. “Am I seeing things?” A tiny kitten was clawing its way up his jeans. Jim harrumphed. “That’s a stray. Buddy and Wells started feeding it, and now it won’t go away.” “Aww,” Kenzie exclaimed. “It’s adorable.” Linc detached the kitten from his front pocket and held it up. The warmth of his hands calmed it, but only for a minute. The kitten stared at him, bug-eyed, then batted at his nose. “Doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything.” “Reminds me of Kenzie. I guess I’ll have to keep it. So where are you two headed?” Linc put the kitten down. Tiny tail waving, it sauntered between Truck’s furry legs. The dog didn’t seem to mind.

For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord; I sing for joy at what your hands have done. —Psalm 92:4 (NIV) My golden retriever, Millie, and I were walking home from the dog park, where Millie socialized for a bit but mostly sat sedately next to me on a bench while I read. At five, Millie doesn’t play as rambunctiously as she once did. She has a few select friends whom she will cavort with, but her inner puppy rarely emerges anymore. Except when we pass Clement Clarke Moore Park, which is teeming with children. There is nothing my dog loves more than kids. She gives me a plaintive look as if to ask, “Can we go inside and have some real fun?” There is a sign, though, that says the park is only for kids and their parents or guardians. No dogs allowed. I gently tug on her leash. She is reluctant to go, dawdling and glancing longingly over her shoulder, her tail drooping. Lord, I wonder, do dogs know that they break our hearts? “Sir? Excuse me, sir?” A woman stood at the park’s gate, pushing a baby in a stroller trailed by two older kids. She waved at me. “Can my kids say hello to your dog?” Before I could answer, Millie was on the move, prancing and pulling me back. First she said hello to the baby, giving it a kiss, her tail flying. Then she bumped up against the older kids, letting them hug and pet her, all the while with an ecstatic look on her face. Finally the woman maneuvered her kids back into the park. “Thanks,” she said, “they really wanted to see a dog today.” Thank You, Lord, for giving us what we need, even a maturing golden retriever whose inner puppy still wants to play. —Edward Grinnan Digging Deeper: Ps 84:11

In a post advising boys on how to charm a girl, John jokingly said, “Become a puppy. A kitten would also be acceptable or, possibly, a sneezy panda”—an allusion to a popular clip on YouTube. But he also said, “If you can, see girls as, like, people, instead of pathways to kissing and/or salvation.

Does he heel?” Elizabeth asked, leaning over and placing her hands on Albert’s back. “Well, we only just started puppy obedience class the other week, so he …” Jack started to answer. Elizabeth wasn’t paying any attention to Jack.  She closed her eyes and turned her head towards the ceiling.  “Heal me doggie,” she cried.  “Heal me.”  Jack and I looked at one another.  Suddenly, Elizabeth stood up.  “I can walk! I can walk!” I stood there stunned, my mouth open, eyes bulging.  Then suddenly, Grandma and Jerri started to laugh.  Elizabeth, sitting back down, began to laugh, too. “Oooh, Jack, you should have seen the look on your face.  And Jenny, I thought you were going to pee yourself,

I’ll go,” said Jared, and quieter, to Kami, “If you’ll be all right?” “Always am,” Kami told him. She looked searchingly at her mother’s face, then glanced up at Jared. “See you in a few, sunshine puppy,” she told him, and lifted up on the tips of her toes and pressed a kiss on his mouth. She only caught the side, a little clumsily, but felt the curl of his small smile against her lips. “Sunshine puppy?” he asked. “You’re not even trying anymore.” “I am trying very hard,” Kami informed him. “To be ridiculous.

Will you let me move into your fortress with you?” I blurt out. Her brow furrows, and she looks so damn cute that I want to kiss her, but I know I can’t. “What?” she breathes out. I get up and walk to her. “That fortress where you reside? Will you let me live there with you?” “What the fuck are you talking about?” she asks. She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. “I don’t want to blow all your walls to bits,” I say. She has a piece of hair stuck to her lips, so I pull it away and tuck it behind her ear. “I just want to live inside them with you. Fuck,” I say, throwing up my hands. “I fucking love your walls. Every single brick. But let me move in. Let me be there with you. Then you can find out if you love me, and you can invite me to stay if you find out that you do. Just let me inside.” I take a deep breath and watch her. “Did you hit your fucking head on the way to work?” she asks. I laugh and rub my forehead. “No, but Logan just slapped some sense into me.” “Then what the fuck is wrong with you?” “I’m in fucking love with you, Friday!” I cry. “I fucking love you, you irritating, obnoxious, sexy-ass woman that I can’t get out of my fucking head.” I hit myself in the head with my fists like I’m knocking. “I’m in love with you.” I drop down onto my knees in front of her, and she steps back, so I inch forward until I can pull her belly to touch my forehead. “I’m in love with you.” I look up at her. “I’m on my knees, and I’m not going to try to get you to marry me or make you do anything you don’t want to do. Just let me in, and I’ll be happy with it.” “So, you don’t want to talk me into marrying you?” I shake my head, staring up at her like a puppy. “You’re not going to hold it over my head and refuse intimacy until I cave to what you want?” “No.” “You’re not going to keep asking me again and again?” “No.” “You’re going to stop being stupid?” I grin. “I don’t know about that one.” “You have testicles,” she says, and she shrugs. “I can’t have it all, can I?” She sinks down onto her knees in front of me. She bites her lower lip and stares at me. “Say it,” I coax. She goes back to glaring at me. “Say what?” “Whatever you’re thinking.” “I’m thinking that my knees are uncomfortable on this fucking floor, and I’m wondering how long you’re going to fucking make me stay down here.” I laugh. God, she’s so contrary! She takes my face in her hands. “Tonight, can I make you dinner?” she asks. My heart does that pitter-patter thing again. “Like a date?” She rocks her head back and forth like she’s weighing her words. “I guess you could call it a date.” “Then yes, I’d love that.” Then I remember. “But I have Hayley tonight.” She brightens. “Good.” She kisses me quickly and grins. “Because that’s about as close to a threesome as you’ll ever get with me.” She points to the floor. “Can I get up now?” she asks. “Get the fuck up,” I growl. I get to my feet, too. She falls against me and wraps her arms around my waist. “So does this mean that you don’t want to marry me?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest. Her words touch the tattoo I just got, and it stings a little. But I don’t pull back. I don’t want her to see it yet. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t say the opposite.” I set her back a little and look down into her upturned face. “Are you telling me you do want to marry me?” She shakes her head and jabs a finger at me. “But I want to leave the door open.” Oh, holy hell. She’s opening a fucking door and I didn’t even have to threaten her or withhold anything or torment her in any way. I might pass out. “Okay,” I say.

The response in the office was predictable, though it wasn't Mac who cooed the loudest; it was her dad. "Who's a big fierce monster dog? Who's a bloodthirsty hound from Hell? It's you. Yes it is." Keith knelt to the floor and tickled the puppy's pudgy stomach. Veronica and Logan watched, amused. "I didn't know he was this anxious for grandchildren," Veronica said.

Mark lifted the pop-up tent and unveiled Duchess and Puddin' sharing one of Duchess Delights' signature dog treats. They were eating it Lady and the Tramp--- style, each with an end between their teeth, their mouths nearly touching. The dogs looked up at Mark, then ran in opposite directions, like two teenagers who had been caught kissing under the bleachers.

Alex, if I survive the puppy onslaught, I’ve decided we’re going to have a house full of dogs when I retire,” I say to the camera, and when I blow Alex a kiss, Boomer shoves his wet nose into my mouth.

I was stupid for this man. He had me all turned over and inside out. Just looking at him made me happy. I wanted to run down the steps and jump on him and kiss his face like an excited puppy.

The scruff around his mouth is rough against my skin, a sensation I’ve never experienced before. I can’t say I hate it. Fuck, I think I like it. Oh shit. I might like it too much. My dick twitches and hardens in my jeans. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think of things to deflate my dick. Dead puppies. Professor Morley. Jacobs legit groans, and it’s the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. Kissing has never been like this. Kissing is supposed to be anticipation. It’s a teaser. A taste. It’s supposed to build and grow, becoming hotter and needier over time. It doesn’t start with explosions. At least, not in my experience. Now I’m fully hard, and what the actual fuck?

Jules popped up next to him to pour a cup of coffee and kiss him on the cheek. “The puppies are fine with Hugh. We trust him to babysit the kids. The health inspector might close the viner down, but the puppies will be okay.” “I thought you weren’t going to let me babysit the kids anymore after the cat incident,” Hugh said. “That’s Otto,” Jules corrected before rushing off to serve another table. “Hey,” Otto said mildly. “I didn’t find the cat. If I hadn’t gotten it down, Dee would’ve climbed up herself.” Theo shrugged slightly as he took a drink of his coffee. “She’s just kidding. You’re still our second pick after Grace.” “What about me?” Hugh complained. After giving Hugh a flat look, Theo turned back to Otto. “Like I said, you’re still our second pick.

A puppy is cute. A kid in kindergarten is not cute. I am not - "Cute", he repeats with oblivious male arrogance

Of course, everyone Forgets their very first kiss But I still remember The one that ruined My lips.

I don’t want a puppy in my life I have to break in and re-train. I want the older dog that is smart enough to realize he needs the hand that feeds him. I want the one that’s loyal to the person who loves him, and respects how she will feel about another woman he’s been with hanging around and getting really friendly with his body for all to see. I have my own position within the MC world now, and being a woman already makes it that much harder for me to have a modicum of respect. How do you think it looks when you show your own crew that you respect me so little that you allow other women to climb all over you, kiss you, and rub you down in front of them while attempting to claim me in any way? It makes me look weak and unworthy. And it hurts too, but that’s my own cross to bear.” With that, I turned and left

I’m starting to think the Watch isn’t a real place, like Hogwarts, or Dr. X’s academy for mutants,” Adam said. “Tell the truth, you’re just living in the desert getting high all the time and spinning these elaborate fairy tales about psychopathic Gen Zs.” “Don’t be jealous,” Archer said, blowing him a kiss. “You can come visit whenever you want.” “He’s just sad he didn’t get his owl,” Noah said, patting Adam on the head like a puppy.

If one of your human friends or relations is eager for a kiss, ask them to wait until your puppy is on all four paws before coming down to their level.

The butter trick also works as you establish a bond between your baby and your puppy when the puppy settles down. Dab some butter on your baby’s foot or booty and say kisses.

Why do you care what happens to a human teacher?” Sabrina said. “I thought you hated humans.” Charming said nothing. “You don’t want anything bad to happen to Ms. White,” Daphne cried. “You are in love with her. You want to kiss and hug her!” “Nonsense!” the mayor shouted. “I can’t have terrorists running around the elementary school, even if I approve of who they’re killing.” “You want to write her love notes,” the little girl persisted. “You want to hold her hand in the park and look at puppies in the pet store.” “Is there an Off button for this one?” Charming asked Granny Relda. The old woman grinned at the mayor. “You haven’t answered the questions.” “All right!” Charming surrendered. “Snow has a knack for getting in trouble. I would sleep better at night knowing she is safe.

She curls tightly to me kissing me on the lips and cheeks, her body skin to skin to mine, she’s kind of- like- a hyper puppy… you know- wet nose, big sad eyes, giving you lots of unwanted wet kisses, and can’t sit in one place for too long. Now she is pulling on my necklace, the one I am always wearing has my dad’s wedding ring hanging from it-a thin silver chain and the gold band hanging from it, a gift dad gives me- saying- ‘He loves me more than mom, that I am the love of his life.’ Yet sis tugs gently to get my full attention. I ask here- ‘Why are you not wearing your undies?’ And she baby- talks without missing a beat- ‘Be- because you don’t at night so-o why should I’s.’ I knew not too long from now she would be running around the house stark-naked like always, saying it’s because I sleep this way. I am sure mom will say I am a bad role model, but yet there are far worse things she has done, things that mom and dad never need to know about, things that I can even remember right now. If she wants to be in my bad nude, will- I guess that’s okay…? She is just trying to be like me, and that’s sweet. I have saved her butt many times when she has done bad things. I have been like a mom to her, ever since she was born if I wanted to be or not. And she has been there for me when I was a nobody. Yeah, she’s the best pain in the butt a girl can have. ‘Mommy says you have to get up soon, her hand covering her eyes as she walks my room and sees both of us.’ Her breath smells like toothpaste, as she kisses us good morning, and she stumbles over all the stuff lying on the floor and it’s not until I push sis off me that I realize how badly I’m shaking. Mom, she has one of those green face masks sped up, which is some scary-looking crap, pulls she has curlers in her hair. Yet that’s not what’s got me traumatized. ‘It’s Friday,’ I say confused. I thought we were going to the rusty anchor today? Mom said- ‘I thought you didn’t like doing that Karly that you’re too grown up to be with your mommy and Daddy and sissy… always- yes we are all going this upcoming weekend, glad to see you want to go.’ I said- ‘Oh- okay?’ Mom- ‘Karly are you feeling, okay? Are you not your usual descent and moody self? Me- ‘Yah I am a fine mom.’ I have no idea how I got home last night, or what I did or didn’t do. It’s like it never happened, yet I think it did… didn’t it? Maybe I drink too much? Mom said- ‘Um-hum- come on you two bare cuddle bugs it’s getting late.’ Then- I remember getting in the car, with the girls and the fighting it was all coming back to me, as I see my sis run into her room, leaving her nighty behind on my bed. I knew that something looked different about her when I looked her over, I am starting to remember what Ray did to her last night. Yet she seems to be taking it so well- so strange. I have no idea what happened to Jenny or Maddie or Liv, and just thinking about it makes me awful sick, pissed, and yet so worried. I put my feet on the ground, first on my fuzzy shaggy throw rug, and then I step forward feeling the hard would under my feet. The cold wood reminds me. When I was younger, I would lie on the floor all summer wishing I have some friends to spend my time with. Back then my only friend was my sis and my horse, I’m curious to do the same thing now, and reflect a bit on what the heck is going on- and also on how things have changed, I know my sis will be another half hour getting ready. And with me, all I have to do is jump in my outfit laying there on the floor. My skin feels so cold yet, yet on the inside, I feel scorching. Like- photos on Instagram, all these snapshots start scrolling, row after row in my mind. Seeing bits and pieces of what went down last night. My, I- phone starts vibrating on top of my bed until it falls off the edge hitting me square in the face making me jump two feet in the air. I reach for it and slide my finger over the cracked screen.

Clover arched for a kiss and tried to rub himself against Drake’s thigh like a horny puppy, but Drake pulled him back by the hair, still panting.

We went to a movie and he kissed me for the first time. We kissed right through it... “Now let’s kiss somewhere else,” said Max.

To encourage licking on command, spread a thin coat of butter on your hand and say “kisses” as you offer your puppy your open palm.

Why does she angle her head like that?" "She was abandoned as a puppy. When the shelter got her, they found a maggot infestation inside her ear. Her right eardrum's permanently damaged and it messes with her balance and makes her tilt her head like that." "Poor brave girl." He leaned over and dropped another kiss on her head. Chutney let out one of her love-grunts.

Colhoes!" He jerked away and rolled off her and to his feet. She scuttled back, skirts tangling in her boots as she jumped up, leaping to avoid puppies. The man's shadowed eyes swung to her, anger sparking in them in the dim light. Blood dripped between his fingers clamped over his mouth. "I hope I bit it off," she said, unwisely. He dropped his hand and his lower lip was still intact, though bleeding down his chin. "Damn it, woman. I only kissed you." "While you had me trapped beneath you." "Yes, well, obviously that was a mistake." -Vitor & Ravenna

Longganisa was curled up on her bed beneath my desk but stood up to greet me. Today, she was outfitted in a leaf-patterned hoodie that bore the Brew-ha Cafe logo. Cute, simple, and practical since Longganisa hated the cold. I clipped on her leash and led her around the cafe. Her usual admirers surrounded us, and we spent some time on pets and belly rubs. When we got to the front of the shop, Leslie was helping Adeena bag her order. "Longganisa, show your Tita Adeena some love." Adeena was more of a cat person, but she loved my little wiener dog almost as much as I did. Longganisa adored her as well, and Adeena was the only person other than me and Jae who was allowed to pick her up. Even Tita Rosie didn't get that privilege. Adeena snuggled Longganisa close to her chest, and Longganisa rewarded her with a few licks. "Oh, my bestest girl. Your kisses will sustain me through all my family lecturing.