Sexy Beast Quotes

At some point, Roth had gotten hold of my cell and replaced Zayne's name with Stony and listed his own number under Sexy Beast. What a tool

Don't say that. You're a sexy beast. You could easily have had a boyfriend.

Smiles from girls like you are what started the Trojan War.

There’s something I need to know, okay?” I lifted my chin, grinning slight. “Yes, you’re a sexy beast.” “I know that already,” he said dryly. “But that’s not what I’m asking.

What?” he asked, finishing the second of his nine-ounce steaks, medium rare. “Why are you looking at me that way?” [...] I sighed theatrically, resting my chin on my cupped hands and bracing my elbows on the table. “You are too gorgeous, you know?” I said it just loud enough that the people who’d been watching us surreptitiously could hear me. Unholy laughter lit his eyes—telling me he’d been noticing the looks we’d been getting. But his face was completely serious, as he purred, “So. Am I worth what you paid for me, baby?” I loved it when he played along with me. I sighed again, a sound that I drew up from my toes, a contented, happy sound. I’d get him back for that “baby.” Just see if I didn’t. “Oh, yes,” I told our audience. “I’ll tell Jesse that she was right. Go for the sexy beast, she told me. If you’re going to shell out the money, don’t settle.” He threw back his head and laughed until he had to wipe tears of hilarity off his face. “Jeez, Mercy,” he said. “The things you say.” Then he leaned across the table and kissed me. A while later he pulled back, grinned at me, and sat back in his chair. I had to catch my breath before I spoke. “Best five bucks I ever spent,” I told him fervently.

MEG (to Dante, the vampire):“Vampires aren’t as cool as I expected them to be. In romance novels, vampires are all dark and broody and sexy. In real life, you talk an awful lot about stocks.

How many men just waltzed right in to enemy territory, outnumbered and with no evident exit plan? He was either stupid as hell or his absolute command of the situation was hella sexy.

Abby_Donovan: I bet you were one of those uber-cool teachers like Mr.Chip, weren't you? MarkBaynard: I was more like Mr.Kotter or that guy from GLEE who looks like the love child of Orlando Bloom & Justin Timberlake. Abby_Donovan: Your female students were probably writing "I love you" on their eyelids and listening to "Don't Stand So Close to Me" on their Walkmans. [...] Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Mr.Schuester MarkBaynard: Goodnight Miss Pillsbury Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Puck MarkBaynard: Goodnight Rachel Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Kurt MarkBaynard: Goodnight Quinn Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Finn MarkBaynard: Goodnight Sue Sylvester, you heartless but oddly sexy beast Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Artie MarkBaynard: Goodnight Tweetheart...

Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.

He draws asparagus and cabbages, but he's obsessed with artichokes. He draws them more than any other vegetable. Why artichokes?" George drained his glass. "The artichoke is a sexy beast. Thorns to cut you, leaves to peel, lighter and lighter as you strip away the outer layers, until you reach the soft heart's core.

Being held by power is a turn on. Being entangled, enraptured, impaled by a powerful man, whose passion — whose beast — has him perched precariously on the edge of wanton venery? And then pushing him off! Everything changes, in a nova scream choked off by a sudden inhale of soul altering rapture. Being held like prey. ~ from Red Queen Black Queen

You can never be a sexy beast like Melissa and Stefani

If vampires were so passionate and depicted as sexy beasts because they fed on life force, why were zombies not depicted as the scholars of the coterie world?

He loved Noah’s combination of reticence and curiosity. His too-formal language hid a major sexy beast waiting to be let out to play. And Adrian was just the guy to uncage it.

That man fell out of the sexy beast tree and hit every fucking branch on the way down. Sexy. Ass. Beast. I swear I’ve never seen someone so ridiculously good looking.” I

This is Katara. She’s a sexy beast that loves cuddles but will scratch you if the situation calls for it.

The feel of her skin as she struggled beneath, the life inside, the death without. The breaching of life and death, of survival uncaged inside him: a dark beast with violence and sex in its soul. In his soul.

There is always a fucking way

The secret to the labyrinth is always at the beginning. Before you enter. Once you do it is too late.

A little soft rock, and I turn into a beast.” “Grrr! Kinda sexy.

Some people dreamed about traveling the world, or to see Paris, or even travel to the moon, but he could just stay inside her forever and not feel the need to go anywhere else for the rest of his life.

As for the Zamorians’ mentality, they can be quite ruthless, they love to brawl, they’re extremely dominant, super possessive, and always need to win at all costs.” “All I’m hearing is ‘sexy, sexy, sexy, super sexy, and I can cure him of that.

When the guy finally pins the alligator on its back and rubs its thorax to lull it into semiconsciousness, it occurs to me the whole appeal of this spectacle is vaguely sexual. Subduing a beast by turning him over and rubbing his belly until he's calm.

The expression just set me on edge. He had the look of an injured wild animal. I imagined a hungry lion limping in front of me with a bloody paw. No matter how much the beast stumbled or bled, one would have to always remember that the creature could tear the average human body in half.

Her breath hitched when he slid a thick finger into her wet heat. Slow. Firm. Agonizingly delicious. "You're so wet," he murmured. "It really did turn you on." "You turn me on." She arched against him, pleasure rippling through her core. Sam pushed another finger inside, angling to brush against her sweet spot. "I thought you needed me, like right now," she panted as he palmed her breast through her clothes. "I need to give you pleasure first." His heated gaze trapped her, made her insides tighten. "So you're a gentleman sex beast." She wrapped her arms around his neck, ran her fingers through the softness of his hair. His shoulders were so broad, his neck corded with muscle. But unlike Harman's steroid-enhanced physique, Sam's perfect body was real. "I don't feel like a gentleman." His voice was deeper than normal, thick and hoarse. He teased her nipple to a peak through her clothes. "The things I want to do to you right now are as far from gentlemanly as you can get.

Finn pulled away from her mouth to look at Navi, her full lips swollen and a dusky flush on her cheeks. “Do or die time, babe,” he murmured against her mouth. “You let this beast off the leash and I’m not going to stop.” Her mouth curled into a sensual smile, and her hazel eyes glowed with the challenge. “Do your worst, Finn Kelly.

The woman tensed. As anger and fear ricocheted across her face, her eyes changed from red to green to brown in a dizzying display like nothing he’d ever seen. Every instinct in Angelo’s body screamed at him to lunge for his weapon. Instead he set his feet for impact, blocking her slashing claws. Unbelievably, after a few moments of struggling, she went still, all the fight gone… Minka isn’t sure she should trust the sexy Special Forces soldier who found her. Subjected to horrors, on the run from scientists set on locking her in a cage, Minka is terrified of the monster she’s becoming…and somehow, Angelo is the only one who can calm the beast inside her and make her feel safe. But can she trust the way he makes her feel when she’s not even sure she can trust herself?

Her mouth dry, her gaze ventured inevitably down, past the curls on his chest and belly, clear to where his rod thrust high and hard against the white of one bare thigh. Her recall was instantaneous- as if she'd ever forgotten. As if she ever could! With stark, unremitting clarity, she remembered precisely how it had felt to touch him there, her knuckles buried in the coarse nest of curls that thickened and surrounded the base of his erection.

An unexpected breakup can cause considerable psychological distress. The social pain has been associated with a twentyfold higher risk of developing depression in the coming year. It's important to lean on family and friends for support. You'll find that brain activity in the craving centers will have decreased significantly after about ten weeks." "Actually, it's been almost two weeks and I don't think of him at all," Layla offered. "Then you weren't truly emotionally invested in that relationship," Charu Auntie said. "Or you're a psychopath." "Definitely a psychopath." Daisy sliced furiously, decimating the onion as tears poured down her cheeks. "She didn't feel anything when she stole the pakoras from my lunch kit in sixth grade." Charu Auntie balanced the basket on one hip and adjusted her glasses. "Distraction and self-care are important to prevent a craving response in the ventral tegmental area, the nucleus accumbens, and orbitofrontrontal/prefrontal cortex." "I think she's saying, in her oddly complicated way, that she thinks you should hook up with fuckboy Danny," Daisy said. "Too bad the sexy beast upstairs is such a piece of-" "Shhh.

Lord, but he was a big, beautiful beast of a man. There was just so much of him. Tall, broad, powerfully muscled. And utterly bare, save for that thin bit of toweling and his thick, dark hair. He had a great deal of hair. Not only plastered in damp curls on his head, but defining the hard line of his jaw. And lightly furring his chest. He had nipples. Two of them. Eyes, Penny. He has two of those, too. Focus on the eyes. Sadly, that strategy didn't help.His eyes were chips of onyx. Chips of onyx dipped in ink, then encased in obsidian, then daubed with pitch, then thrown into a fathomless pit. At midnight.

I, Billy Joe Pilkington, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee Layla Eden to my hand, my heart, and my spirit to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee. To possess thee and be possessed by thee without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself.

You could never hurt me,” he threw my words back at me, jumped out of the car, and made it to the passenger seat just as I opened the door. He squatted, his eyes not leaving mine. “Want to know why?” The sexy grin did it. I stopped arguing and fed my curiosity. “Why?” “I’m the beast, mean and ugly, and you’re the only one who makes these things seem insignificant. With a kiss and a touch, you make the meanness and ugliness go away. With your love, you calm the beast inside me. So yell at me all you want when you’re pissed. Throw things at my head. Maybe I’ll yell back or throw you over my shoulder, cuff you to my bed, and make love to you in ways you couldn’t possibly fathom, but you could never, ever hurt me. You are the light in my darkness. The hope chasing away my despair. You are the keeper of my soul.

Ye told me ye had no’ seen the man in the clearing yesterday.” “I did not,” Annabel assured him, swiveling to look at him with a bit of excitement as she was recalled to the day’s events. “But I saw his plaid and the man today was wearing the same color plaid. He was big too. And, he was the same man as the one who startled me in England on our journey here, so I am beginning to think it was the same man all three times.” “Ye’re sure it was the same man as in England?” he asked, not happy at the thought. “Aye. I only caught a glimpse that first time, but he is hard to mistake,” she assured him. “He is very large and has a pretty face.” That brought a scowl to Ross’s lips. He didn’t at all like her finding someone else attractive, which was silly, he supposed. It wasn’t like she was going to run off with her attacker. According to Giorsal, she’d stabbed him. Besides, he himself wouldn’t have been flattered to be called pretty. “Ye mean handsome, do ye no’?” he suggested. “Nay. You are handsome, husband. He is pretty,” she said in a tone of voice that suggested that should clear the matter up. It didn’t. “Is there a difference?” Ross asked cautiously. “Aye,” Annabel said as if that should be obvious. “Handsome is rugged and manly and . . . well . . . handsome,” she finished helplessly, and then added, “Pretty is big eyes, sculpted jaw and hair that flops across the eyes.” She paused briefly before continuing with some consideration, “He would make a lovely girl were he not so muscular across the shoulders and chest.” “Ah,” Ross said, unable to repress a grin. Whether she realized it or not, his wife was saying she thought he was a sexy beast, while the pretty boy was . . . pretty, but not in a way she found especially attractive. He liked that. His

With her left thigh draped over his right hip, he pleasured her at a more leisurely pace. She closed her eyes and let him love her. Before long, however, he had stoked her fire until it blazed again. She pressed him onto his back and, looking intrigued with the possibilities, sat astride him; he never left her body. Victorious atop him, she appeared to savor this position---and her newfound power over him. There was no denying it. At the moment, he was hers, body and soul, whether she knew it or not. Whether he was quite ready for that or not. He was sure as hell not ready to admit it. "Rohan," she murmured, "why haven't we been doing this all the time that I've been here?" He gave her a licentious half smile. "I was trying to convince you that I was a gentleman," he replied, his low tone roughened by desire. She smiled at his irreverent answer and dragged her dainty fingers down his chest. "What would I want with a gentleman when I could have a Beast?

He ran his hand up her calf, over her knee, and up the sensitive slope of her thigh, until he cupped her mound in his palm. She gasped at the shock of pleasure. His fingers caressed her gently, stroking up and down the seam of her sex, teasing her with light passes until she was breathless. She reached between their bodies, feeling for his trouser buttons and tugging at them with eager, inexpert fingers. At last, his placket fell open, and his erection sprang into her hand. Hot, hard, and heavy. She explored him the same way he touched her- skating her fingertips up and down his length, marveling at the silky softness of his skin and tracing the intriguing, yet entirely unfamiliar contours. "Let me see you," she whispered. He rose up on his knees, and his male organ jutted toward her. The dark hair on his chest arrowed straight toward it, like a signpost indicating a point of natural interest:THIS WAY TO THE MANHOOD. As if it could be missed. Rude, large, framed by dark hair, and impressively male. No surprises, really. It simply looked like a part of him. An intimidatingly large part of him, considering what was about to occur and where she hoped he could put it. But it wasn't foreign or frightening. As was the case with all the other parts of his body, she found it bold, strong, unabashed in its nature, and arousing in the extreme.

He should have appeared vulnerable in his nakedness, but he seemed more powerful now than when he'd had his clothes on. His body was hewn with brutal grace, large and muscular and superbly fit. His bronze tan ended at his waistline, fading into the paler skin of his hips. A wealth of thick dark hair covered his chest, and there was another heavy patch of it at his groin, around the dark, upthrust length of his erection.

Dizzy, my head lolled to the side. It was a … a naked man? Huh, I must be delusional from pain if I was seeing a sexy naked guy fighting an octopus. My eyelids shut on that odd thought.

Consent & Manhood (The Sonnet) Better deemed a coward than forward, For there is too much at stake. Stand ready to wait till infinity, Without violating her personal space. She's not your bonerville, Until she gives you consent. Remember, consent is the line, Between a baboon and a sapiens. Expose your feeling with your gestures, Earn her trust without forcing yourself. Keep your libido down, below your knee, Till you are asked to strip all restraint. It is no man that turns a beast at the sight of woman. Real Man is a father, friend and lover - all in one.

Maybe I shouldn't have given Keith so much shit about that time he got wasted and swears up and down he astral projected to space and got probed by a sexy Martian.

She stared after him, her eyes widening when his plaid suddenly dropped to pool around his feet. He then tugged his shirt off over his head, bent to grab up the heavy plaid and strode into the water carrying both. Claray knew she should turn away, but couldn't seem to manage that as her eyes slid over his wide, muscular back and then down to the round curves of his derriere. They stopped there briefly before moving on to his strong thighs, and shapely calves. Claray had never thought she would call a man beautiful, but Conall was, and she found herself fascinated by the play of muscles in his back, buttocks and legs as he moved.

He had apparently finished cleaning his clothes and set them on the boulder while she fussed with her plaid. Now he was done bathing too and was coming out of the river, his front as fully on display as his behind had been as he'd gone in. Claray's eyes ran over his chest and arms, taking in his wide shoulders and bulging pecs, then cascaded down over his rippling stomach to---Gasping, she whirled abruptly away and covered her eyes as if she could erase what she'd just seen. Good heavens, that was really... a terribly undignified appendage, she thought with a shake of the head.

He bit the corner of those luscious lips and then winked. I was all too familiar with that wink. Ezekiel, the animalistic beast, was about to be unleashed.

Be lucky that when I came in here, this sexy ass specimen was sitting here and not some damn beastly looking broad.

Yeah, well, I don’t want to talk about your sexy playthings. They remind me of my ‘boy toy,’ and I’m deliberately steering clear of Roane for a while. That idiot had the nerve to argue my designs for our bedroom.” Caitlyn scowled as she reached for her ample purse. She pulled out three bottles of nail polish. “How about we hang out and do girl stuff? Pretty Pink, Barely Blue, or Primal Purple?” “Primal Purple.” Though she wondered if the polish would cover her beast’s nails later tonight. Kelly felt the need to change with every breath she took. It wouldn’t be much longer until she let it out. At the thought, her beast purred its approval. “Once you changed, did you finally settle into your own skin?” Caitlyn nodded. “I was scared at first, but after you embrace that part of yourself, you’ll feel better than you ever have. You can’t deny who you are, no matter how much you might want to. And trust me, after you claim those knuckleheads who’ve been mooning over you for years, you’ll wonder what held you back so long.” -Caitlyn & Kelly

The Mouse On The Bar Room Floor Some Guinness was spilt on the bar room floor When the pub was shut for the night. Out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse And, in the pale moonlight, He lapped up the frothy brew from the floor, Then back on his haunches he sat. And all night long you could hear him roar, ‘Bring on the goddamn cat!’ —An Irish Tall Tale

Skating a nail over his enormous chest, Eva murmured, "So what's a lioness to do on her mating night?" His lip lifted in a sexy snarl. "She runs with the wolf.

Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other. —Karl, Age 5

Life should be lived to the point of tears.” —Albert Camus

Not to dream boldly may turn out to be irresponsible” —George Leonard

If you die, I’m dating your corpse.” “I’m being cremated.” “I’ll date your urn.” “My urn already has a boyfriend. They’re really serious too.” Cooper laughed against my neck then wrapped himself around my waist, swallowing me up with his warm embrace. “My pop has my mom’s name on his wrist,” Cooper whispered against my cheek. “Underneath, he has my name along with the lesser crap kids he got stuck with.” “I’m in college,” I blurted out. “Yeah, I remember you mentioning that.” “Tattoos. Kids. Dating my corpse. Seems serious.” Leaning back, Cooper adjusted me so I rested against his chest. “I always planned to settle down when I was an old fart like my pop. Meet some cute piece of jailbait and make a few bad seeds plus one decent kid I could trust with the family business. Instead, here I am not even done with college with a tattoo of my girl’s name on my wrist.” “You could change your mind.” “I won’t. You’re a keeper.” “I could change my mind,” I said, wiggling my brows at him. “Who would you replace me with? Seriously, look around and see what shit pickings you have to choose from. I’m the best you’ll ever do, baby.” “You are pretty sexy. Tall too. Yeah, I can see keeping you around.” A grinning Cooper glanced at Aaron. “I’m so whipped.” “It’s pretty nauseating, yeah.

I’m not leaving the bathroom. Nothing out there is as sexy as in here.” “Hell yeah,” he groaned. “Don’t tease though. I’m this close to turning the water to cold.” “Or you could fix your problem.” Cooper squinted at me. “Really?” Pulling off my shirt, I lowered my bra. Standing closer to the shower door, I stretched. “Here’s your visual inspiration. I could lick my lips a lot if you think it’d help?” “Fucking A,” he said, stroking himself. “Say my name.” “Cooper,” I moaned softly, rolling my nipples between my thumbs and index fingers like he always did. “Oh, Cooper, I’m yours. I need you. I wish you were inside me, Cooper.” His gaze held mine as I teased myself and he stroked his cock. I eventually just looked at where he worked himself closer to relief. Soon, I licked my lips while thinking about making him feel good using my hand. While I didn’t know how long Cooper had been in a state of heat, it didn’t take him long to find relief. I doubted it would take him long to need more relief. To prolong his comfort, I immediately dressed and left the bathroom. Cooper appeared buck naked a few minutes later and I wondered if lunch should wait. Somehow, I’d gotten myself into a state of heat. “Some of it’s genetics,” he teased, retrieving boxers from his dresser. “The rest is hard work.” “I have a response, but I don’t want you getting worked up again.” “Give it five minutes and the memory of you touching yourself and… Fuck it, I didn’t need five minutes.

Glancing back at me as I settled on the Harley, Cooper sighed. “My sister dresses like a slut, but most of the girls at school dress that way. They act like whores, but they’re not. They just like dressing up and playing sexy. These guys are losers and they come here with these ideas about the country girls being easy. When they aren’t easy, they make them easy. They look down at local girls and poor chicks like you. Now that they know where you work, they’ll come hanging around to make you dance like a monkey. If that happens, you tell me and I’ll hunt them down and make them dance. Do you understand?

Hell, I think there were studies that said fucking was good for your heart.” “Laughing is good for your heart too and there are no downsides to it. I think I’d rather watch a comedy.” “Fair enough, but you’re missing out.” “Uh-huh. If you think you can get more attention from another girl, feel free to take off. Night’s still young.” “No, I like where I’m at.” Certain he was checking out my butt, I spun around and glared at him. Cooper only smiled. “Like I could see anything with those pants on,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not kidding either. Your ass could have fallen off on the ride over and I wouldn’t be able to tell.” Staring up at Cooper, I soothed out the grumpy from my face and gave him my best Thumper eyes. “You’re so charming, Coop the Poop,” I said in my sexy voice. “I like when you do that with your eyes,” he said, ignoring the rest. “The voice is hot too.” Turning around, I continued towards the apartment. “You’re welcome for the compliments, Farah. Please, stop thanking me. You’re embarrassing yourself.

Shaking my head, I grudgingly smiled. “Will the pizza be here soon?” “Yes,” he murmured, suddenly next to me. “You smell good.” Before I could speak, his lips were on mine for a brief touch. I froze for the seconds our lips met and remained a little frozen when he pulled away. As he leaned back, his lips curved into a gentle grin. “Those lips of yours are fucking gorgeous.” Covering my mouth, I sighed. All of my life, I heard about my fat lips. As a kid, people would tease me about how my lips were big enough to eat my whole head. My grandma especially liked that one. When I got older, the comments were always sexual. I hated when people talked about my lips. “You don’t like them,” he said as his fingers drifted along my calf. “Why?” “I like them fine.” “Do guys want to do something with those lips?” Resting my head back on the couch, I sighed. “I’m tired and you’re making me feel dirty.” Cooper’s hand stopped caressing my leg. When I looked at him, he stared back with an edgy expression. “You take things too personally,” he said, holding my gaze. “When guys talk about using my mouth for stuff as if it’s all I’m good for, why wouldn’t I take that personally?” “Not all you’re good for, but you have sexy lips. Like when I threw the bottle, you did this thing with your lips and made a perfect little ‘O’ shape. It was frigging hot and I almost forgot I wanted to beat the shit out of those guys.

The reason,” he whispered, caressing my cheek and neck with his lips, “guys obsess over these lips is because they’re so fucking sexy. Soft too. Little pink pillows that taste sweeter than candy.” When he lifted his gaze and stared down at me, Cooper laughed. “You’re pouting again.” Unsure what would happen next, I said nothing. Cooper spent another minute kissing my neck then he climbed off of me and fell back into the corner groove of the couch. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed. “You’re still pouting.” “It’s my lips. They always look like that.” “No, they don’t,” he said, grinning. “I want to see you this weekend.” “I told you I’m getting settled in and need to study.” “A quick lunch.” “You want more than lunch.” “Yeah, but you won’t give me what I want so I’ll settle for lunch. Think about it as a free meal, plus my wonderful company. We can take a drive and I’ll show you fun places. Then, when you’re settled in, we’ll visit those places and I’ll get what I want.

Cooper waited for me to shut the door then he cupped the back of my head and leaned down to give me a soft kiss. His tongue explored my mouth for a second then he pulled back and smiled. “You look sexy. Awake too.” “You look sexy too,” I said like a dork. Cooper laughed then stepped back and raised his arms. “What specifically do you like?” My face had to be bright red because it was on fire as I lowered my gaze and smiled grudgingly. “I like your shoes,” I said, laughing. “That’s what makes you stand out.” Laughing harder, Cooper rolled back on his heels and checked out his black boots. “Yeah, I can see that,” he muttered, grinning at me. “Anything else?” “Uh, that tattoo right there,” I said, pointing to his forearm. “The ‘I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die’ tattoo? Are you a big Cash fan or do you like murder?” “Cash fan.” Cooper touched my chin then lifted my gaze to meet his. “You had no idea what it said, did you?” “No, I just thought it was cute.” “Cute?” he said, kissing me quickly before sighing dramatically. “It’s like pulling teeth with you.

I know tonight will be no more than some very heavy petting,” Cooper said full of sincerity. “I know my hand and I will have to finish the job without you. I know all that so don’t freak out when I ask this question. Deal?” “Ask first.” Cooper grinned. “This weekend, I’d like you to come to my house and hang out. We have the pool and a TV the size of this restaurant. Oh, a pool table too. It’ll be fun and I’d like to spend time with you like we did tonight. You’re pretty irresistible when you’re relaxed.” “But I’m resistible when I’m tense? I’ve been tense since we met so why do you keep asking me out?” “Fine, you’re irresistible period, but you’re especially sexy when you let yourself be you. Teasing me like that was pretty awesome, though I think I really might need medical attention now.

But he also smells like a cross between a redwood forest and homemade frosting, moves like a sexy beast who is completely comfortable in his powerful body, and emits a furnace-like heat that makes me want to snuggle into the crook of his arm and purr until he pets me the way he petted me the last time we were this close.

was something truly sexy about a man astride a huge beast, controlling it with a squeeze of his tightly wrapped thighs.

There’s something so powerful and sexy about a man who is part animal. Especially, one who is strong enough to control the beast. I

You know what they say.” He raises his eyebrows, his expression one of utter seriousness. “You are what you eat.” “Really,” Foster remarks drily. “Now, I don’t quite believe that.” Kane runs a hand down his broad chest. “Because I don’t recall eating a sexy beast.

They looked like a group of models in a Versace ad, all big muscles and tousled hair and that lazy sexiness they seemed to embody, like they were comfortable in their own skin, a den of wolves lazing in the sun, fully aware that they were the alpha predators in the food chain.

sudden pinch on my nipple had my eyes flying open again, and I focused on the sexy beast on top of me. “Good. You’re back. I’m doing some of my best work here, so the least you could do is pay attention.

A sudden pinch on my nipple had my eyes flying open again, and I focused on the sexy beast on top of me. “Good. You’re back. I’m doing some of my best work here, so the least you could do is pay attention.

All thought flew from my mind when he pulled the shirt from over his head, revealing the elegant sweep of his back, the hard-packed muscles rippling under smooth skin. Arms, chiseled like a god's, reached down and... "Oh, sweet baby Jesus," I murmured fervently. He pushed his jeans off and bared an ass that was, frankly, spectacular. Those tight globes flexed as he kicked the jeans away with one long leg. Turn away. Get out of here. I shouldn't look. I coveted my privacy, and I was blatantly watching Lucian strip naked. He deserved his privacy too. But I couldn't blink. I couldn't move. He was...glorious. My fingers gripped the railing, holding on tight. The light of the pool gave his skin an unworldly greenish cast. He rolled his shoulders...unf...and then dove in. The water rippled outward in his wake. I actually shivered with lust as I tracked him along the bottom of the pool, a pale arrow of flesh darting through the turquoise glow. Silently, he surfaced on the far side of the pool, then neatly turned to do laps. Perfect form. Long strong arms. Clean, steady strokes. Édith Piaf kept singing as Lucian set a steady but brutal pace. He went at it lap after lap. I grew fairly dizzy with rude thoughts about his stamina. The night was cool, but my flesh was hot. God, that water looked so good. I could practically feel it running over my fevered skin.

Then he planted his big hands on the side of the pool and, with an effortless push, thrust himself up and out of the water. "Sweet mercy..." My knees went weak, and I gripped the rail to keep from falling over. Oh, Édith, I don't regret anything either. His body was a Bernini sculpture come to life---Triton looking down on mere mortals. Water sluiced over rippling planes of muscles, trickled down dips and cut grooves, heading straight toward... His dick. Even from far away, it was impressive. Long and thick with a wide head and plump balls. My lips parted, heat flushing my cheeks, and my nipples tightened.

Holding my gaze, he unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide to the floor. Mistake. Huge mistake, ordering him to take those off. God, his thighs. Could you call a man's thick ripped thighs beautiful? I pressed mine together, trying to suppress the desire to straddle one of those lightly furred, powerful thighs and ride it. Didn't work, though.

Where to touch? The worst of the waxy spikes were stuck from waist to groin. She swiped at his hip, managed to knock off a few. She made a wider sweep on his outer thigh, and cleared a few more. Her hand over his zipper. Shook. Cade was still picking needles off his abdomen. He widened his stance. "Don't be shy." There was challenge in his tone. He was getting even with her. She'd forced him to replace the bulbs. His request for her to remove the prickles seemed a fair exchange. Her heart gave an unfamiliar flutter. Her stomach knotted. They presently stood between the tall box of headstones and a privacy hedge. They weren't visible from the road. She decided to pick off the needles individually instead of making a palm-wide sweep. There'd be less touching. In her hurry, her knuckles bumped his sex. He sucked air. Enlarged. The tab on the zipper slid down an inch. He made the adjustment. "Good enough." He pushed her hand away. She sighed her relief. He twisted, struggled with the prickles on his back, stretching to brush those between his shoulder blades. Frustrated by those he couldn't reach, he snagged the hem on his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. Shook it out. Grace's eyes rounded and her mouth went dry. Her had a magnificent chest. Broad and bare, his chest tempted her. Her fingers itched to touch him. Even for a second. This was so unlike her. The need to satisfy her curiosity outweighed the consequences. She went with the urge. She traced his flat stomach and six-pack abs. His jeans hung low. Sharp hip bones, man dents, and sexy lick lines. The man was sculpted. Cade clutched his shirt to his thigh. Stood still. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn't meet his eyes. Not after she flattened her hand over his abdomen, and his heat suffused her palm. His stomach contracted. Her fingers flexed. She scratched him. He groaned.

He stretched out his long legs under the table, settled on his tailbone. He shook his foot, rotated his ankle, as if he'd sat too long. The movement caught the cat's attention. Archie's back arched, his tail swung, ready to pounce. A long lunge, and Cade stiffened. "Dude, I'm not a scratching post." "Archibald Reginald Rose," Amelia called him by his full name. She clapped her hands. "No!" Grace tipped on her chair, caught the action under the table. This was no sweet kneading from the Maine coon. He bared his claws on Cade's thigh, close to the man's groin. Cade inched back, avoided kicking the cat. His jeans were white-seamed and laddered. Archie swatted, then latched on to the loose, swaying threads. He tugged. Denim split, shredded, leaving a sizable hole. No underwear for this man. A shift of his weight, and Cade flashed Grace. Not purposely, yet she got an eyeful. In that moment, she learned more about him than she ever needed to know. He tucked left. His sex, substantial.

He slipped his fingers inside her dress, touched her skin very gently and exhaled a soft shaky sigh, almost of relief. He combed his fingers over her shoulder blades, down either side of her spine, the rough pads of his fingertips and the exquisite lightness of his touch turning every cell of her skin to glowing cinders, her legs to liquid. Susannah closed her eyes, wanting only to feel, wanting to heighten the pure exquisite pleasure of his hands on her skin. And then his mouth was warm against her ear. "Susannah," he breathed there, her own name as sensual as his fingers. It traveled along the fuse of her nerve endings and lit a furnace inside her. Her lungs labored to breathe. She flattened her hands against his chest, savoring, at last, at last, the warm strong beauty of it. His skin was satiny over the rigid plane of his muscle, and again, this softness juxtaposed with strength... this was Kit. "I like that," he murmured against her throat, where his mouth had traveled from her ear. He opened his lips against the soft skin there, put a hot kiss there. "Touch me anywhere you please." "If you insist," she said. She was trying for insouciance, but the words were a squeak. And he laughed, bloody man. She indulged all of her weeks of stored longings and dragged one finger around the contours of his muscled chest, tracing a broad figure eight, then drew it down between his ribs, down the pale line of hair that led to the bulge of his trousers, stopping short of it, and was rewarded when he sucked in his breath. She opened her hands then and clasped them around his slim waist, let them wander down to cup his firm buttocks through his trousers. He mumbled some unintelligibly pleasured sound.

Where would you like me to touch you, my…” I paused, trying to think of something to say. “Sexy man?” One eyebrow arched and his lips twitched. “Sexy man?” Even I knew that was a sad attempt. “I mean, you big, sexy…” I was at a loss for words and completely out of my league. “Adonian… lord. Yes, my lord.” I licked my lips and leaned in close to him. “Where would you like me to touch you, my big, sexy lord?” Vorian burst with laughter. His hand smacked the bed and I held onto his shoulder to remain steady. “Big, sexy lord?” he asked, wiping a tear from his eye. “I have never heard such…

Ryker grunted, rolling his shoulders with a creaking sound just as the wings came back out. His silver eyes shone brighter than before, and the clawed fingertips I saw on my first day here emerged. He was gorgeous, brutal, otherworldly. Scars and all, he could be the subject of a sculpture in any museum and captivate the observer. What had I been bantering with all this time? Sharing meals, sharing the loft. Shit. "Hello, Danica. You're looking at a dragon.

He made an immediate impression, biker tough. The men admired him. A sexual rush made women blush. He was a turn-on. There was a wildness to Jake that unsettled the ladies. A roughness that dared them to domesticate him. Other guys were equally tall, broad shouldered, and muscled. It was Jake's face that set him apart. Angular and strong boned. Alpha and masculine. His sharp gaze undressed and penetrated a woman's deepest thoughts. His cheekbones slashed to a single dimple, unshaved jaw. Wicked grin. His mouth promised midnight arousal and morning satisfaction.

Power beyond words lurked in the beast’s gaze, a magnetic force that ensnared my vision. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the creature. Its serpentine tongue crept out, moist and glistening. Circling and circling and circling. I rolled my hips in tune, and an ungloved thumb caressed the sensitive nub. My mouth stretched into a silent scream, covered by a writhing tentacle.

Prologue SEXY BEAST One LIKE THE LUXURY CO-OPS and five-star French eateries located in Manhattan’s Silk

Never had she found any man so utterly thrilling, especially like this; Rohan was more hungrily lustful for her and less civilized every moment. She urged him on, loving the fiery, untamed force of him, the hard, unyielding potency of the warrior. Losing herself in her want of him, she slipped her fingers inside the V of his loose white shirt, yearning for the chance to finally touch the gorgeous body she had so long craved. She ran her palms over him, exploring. His muscled shoulders seemed carved of stone, but his smooth skin had the luxurious feel of kid leather. She moaned softly at the marvel of his heaving, sculpted chest. He groaned in answer. "You're driving me mad. I want you now," he panted against her lips. "Yes." Greedily, she peeled his shirt off him. But when he paused to lift it off over his head, she stared in dazed awe at his chisels abdomen. Oh,my. Delights never ceased. "Come here," he whispered in a low, raw, husky tone. The order excited her terribly. At the moment, she did not at all mind him telling her what to do.

Don’t start believing you’re a monster. The way you touch me sometimes, with such tenderness, that is no monster.” Her body was restless, a need moving over her, through her, a need she had never known before. “You wanted me, Jacques, yet you stopped yourself. You’re no monster.” Maybe my wounds stopped me, not my self control. She had stopped him with her acceptance of the beast in him. “You’re tired, Jacques. Sleep for a while.” He caught her hand, his thumb feathering across the inside of her wrist.. I am not a vampire. I have not turned. “I don’t understand.” He closed his eyes, smiled in his mind. She was back to using her professional, scientific voice. You were worried that I had turned. Earlier, in the woods, you were afraid I was a vampire. Just now you thought our people might be vampire. We are Carpathian, not the undead. Unless we turn. “Would you stay out of my head? Wait until you’re invited.” If I waited for an invitation from you, little red hair, I would be centuries old before it ever came about. The smile in his mind was just a little too sexy for her peace of mind. I was merely attempting to ease your fears. Now he sounded innocent. She laughed softly. “Do I have naïve stamped on my forehead?” Has anyone ever complained about your bedside manner? Shea raised her eyebrows. “I’m a surgeon. I don’t need a bedside manner. And in any case, I’ve never had such an outrageous patient before. Stop calling me red hair. And little red hair. And all the other things you call me. Dr. O’Halloran is appropriate.