Whitney's Kiss Quotes

If I ever think you are even considering leaving me again, no matter how good you reasons, I'll have you locked in your rooms and the doors barricaded, so help me God." He lifted her foot and began to dry it. Her voice shaking, Whitney asked, "Will you stay locked in there with me?" He raised her dainty foot to his jaw and tenderly laid his cheek against it, then turned his head and kissed it. "Yes," he whispered. -Clayton Westmoreland

All you have to go on is the faith of a kiss.

she kissed him with all the aching longing that being this close to him evoked; she kissed him in all the ways he had ever kissed her, feeling faint with joy when he began to kiss her back, his mouth moving with fierce tenderness, then opening with fiery demand over hers, until their breaths were mingled gasps, and they were straining to one another.

Elliot, the man I hated with all of my heart, kissed me like he loved me with all of his.

She remembered her fingers threaded through his hair and his kisses in places that made her long for him years later.

I am not very good at taking criticism. I know you weren't criticizing me when you decided to be with her. But it feels like everything you give her that you couldn't give me is a statement of my faults. I imagine you kiss lines down her body that spell out all of the reasons I am unlovable.

This doesn’t have to be anything more than what we want, Andra. We don’t need to define this. You are warm, honest, beautiful, and full of wit. I appreciate how vibrant you are, and how you challenge me. I want to spend time with you simply because I enjoy being around you.” I heard his sigh. “I don’t want to suffocate you. No labels, no drama. Just fun. Maybe a kiss or two.” “Or three. Or four,” I added.

He sighed and moved his hands under water, linking with mine. “You are like a drug to me. Dangerous. Addicting. I can’t get enough of you.” He brought our hands above water and kissed one of my hands, linked with his. “But I want more, more than just a night, more than just a few touches. And I have a feeling that once we cross that line, you will run away.

You kiss me with lips that have loved another, And you tell me words that you´ve said before, And I let myself pretend for a moment that you are not the sum of your memories. I tell myself these lies so you don´t have to.

...heroes represent success, the acquisition of true love, and a prosperous future, whereas villains embrace the more realistic and less glamorized version of our reality - a world in which not every problem can be solved with a sweep of a magic wand or true love's kiss." Whitney Atkinson - Glamorized Recovery: Expectation vs. Reality.

He pulled me up and onto the bed, locking me in his arms as he kissed my lips. He ran his hands against my bare back and whispered. “Even if I do like you…” “I think you do.” “Shut up, Gillian.” He bit me. “Even if I do like you - which I don’t, you’re going to have to come up with a much better reason that that to get me to stop fucking you…

Somewhere between us hating each other back then, you became my first real friend, my first and only best friend, and I didn’t realize it until last summer, but you’ve actually been my first everything.” “You were my first kiss, my first date that I actually enjoyed, and the first woman I fell in love with—the first woman I actually made love to...” he said. “And you’re still the only person I can talk to twenty times a day—whether it’s via letter, email, text, or phone call, and still feel like it’s not enough.

We need to be far more careful. There was a video of us kissing in the hallway via security camera.” My eyes widened. “Do you not hear yourself, Jake? Is that not the perfect reason to end this? “No, and I’m still waiting for you to give me an acceptable one. Are you finished?” I was silent for a few seconds. “I’m not attracted to you anymore.” “A reason that doesn’t insult my intelligence.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Tell me the truth.” “I like you.” He blinked.

I don’t understand this concept of waiting, anyway. You have to wait to kiss. You have to wait to get a job. You have to wait to live. All this waiting, and they wonder why we’re depressed. It’s because we’re always waiting for the moment that we won’t be.

You are like a drug to me. Dangerous. Addicting. I can’t get enough of you.” He brought our hands above water and kissed one of my hands, linked with his. “But I want more, more than just a night, more than just a few touches. And I have a feeling that once we cross that line, you will run away.

As we walk away, I hear Whitney comment to the table, “Those boots are slutty.” I know she’s the Queen. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I’m not letting her get away with slamming me. She knows I heard. She thinks I don’t have the balls to turn around and call her on it. But guess what? I do. But I’m not going to turn it into a fight. I’m going to pretend it wasn’t a slam. I’m going to kill her with kindness. I turn around, smile big, and point down at my boots. “Oh, Whitney, honey, we really need to work on your designers. These boots aren’t Slutty, they’re Gucci.” Her face turns a bright shade of pink and even Peyton snickers.

Your character and soul, intelligence and creativity, love and experiences, goodness and talents, your bright and lovely self are entwined with your body, and she has delivered the whole of you to this very day. What a partner! She has been a home for your smartest ideas, your triumphant spirit, your best jokes. You haven’t gotten anywhere you’ve ever gone without her. She has served you well. Your body walked with you all the way through childhood—climbed the trees and rode the bikes and danced the ballet steps and walked you into the first day of high school. How else would you have learned to love the smell of brownies, toasted bagels, onions and garlic sizzling in olive oil? Your body perfectly delivered the sounds of Stevie Wonder, Whitney Houston, and Bon Jovi right into your memories. She gave you your first kiss, which you felt on your lips and in your stomach, a coordinated body venture. She drove you to college and hiked the Grand Canyon. She might have carried your backpack through Europe and fed you croissants. She watched Steel Magnolias and knew right when to let the tears fall. Maybe your body walked you down the aisle and kissed your person and made promises and threw flowers. Your body carried you into your first big interview and nailed it—calmed you down, smiled charmingly, delivered the right words. Sex? That is some of your body’s best work. Your body might have incubated, nourished, and delivered a whole new human life, maybe even two or three. She is how you cherish the smell of those babies, the feel of their cheeks, the sound of them calling your name. How else are you going to taste deep-dish pizza and French onion soup? You have your body to thank for every good thing you have ever experienced. She has been so good to you. And to others. Your body delivered you to people who needed you the exact moment you showed up. She kissed away little tears and patched up skinned knees. She holds hands that need holding and hugs necks that need hugging. Your body nurtures minds and souls with her presence. With her lovely eyes, she looks deliberately at people who so deeply need to be seen. She nourishes folks with food, stirring and dicing and roasting and baking. Your body has sat quietly with sad, sick, and suffering friends. She has also wrapped gifts and sent cards and sung celebration songs to cheer people on. Her face has been a comfort. Her hands will be remembered fondly—how they looked, how they loved. Her specific smell will still be remembered in seventy years. Her voice is the sound of home. You may hate her, but no one else does.

When I woke up, Cat had already left but there was a text from Mike, asking me if I wanted to meet him in the lobby for breakfast. I felt gross and hungover, not to mention all of the butterflies in my stomach from the thought of just being near him, so I wasn’t sure I could handle keeping up a conversation all by myself. I wrote back Sure and then immediately texted Whitney and asked her to meet us so I wouldn’t have to be alone with him. When I arrived, they were bright and awake and alert, and I felt like a total zombie next to them. They teased me about my constant groaning about how sick I felt. But the truth was that my stomach butterflies were brought on more by how strange I felt around Mike. He seemed totally fine, like nothing had happened last night, but I kept stealing glances at him and thinking, You were my first kiss! In the light of day, it was hard for me to fully accept, because even though I was finally able to talk about my feelings with my friends and Nicole, I was still partially removed from that part of myself. We

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.

I close my eyes and swap out the leading man. Daniel’s dark hair becomes Carter’s pale, almost white hair. Daniel’s shoulders turn into Carter’s. Daniel’s lips, his cheeks, his hands. They all belong to Carter now. And I’m kissing Carter like I kissed Daniel. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, forcing Carter to fit, forcing this kiss to become Carter’s. But the puzzle pieces won’t fit. I don’t remember kissing Carter like this. I don’t remember pulling him close to me, wanting it, wanting him.

when I kiss you, I promise you—you won’t be thinking that I might. I’ll just do it. When you’re least expecting it.

I forged a few days ahead in Raven’s memories, watching as Leonidas handed the child to another man, begging him to keep her safe. ‘She can’t come to the castle yet,’ he said, kissing her forehead repeatedly. ‘They’ll know it was me. Find someone for her, someone who will take care of her until I can safely move her home.

His thoughts immediately turned to Emma, and the way she’d felt, all soft and warm against him, when he’d kissed her last. He puffed on the cigar for a few moments, speculating. He wondered if she would really be fool enough to marry that dough-faced banker. Emma was stubborn, and she probably thought Whitney could give her what she wanted—money, respectability, comfort. That willfulness of hers just might land her in the wrong bed, and Steven wasn’t willing to let that happen. He

You can’t work for Big John with your ribs bound!” she protested, when she’d recovered somewhat. “How will you ride?” “I’m glad you’re concerned about my well-being,” Steven replied in a voice meant to carry beyond the fence, where two women were strolling by, pretending not to notice that Emma Chalmers was entertaining the much-talked-about stranger. “I wish you’d just go away and leave me alone!” Emma reached for the screened door, and the hinges squeaked loudly as she wrenched it open. Steven grinned broadly. “Like I said before, Miss Emma—you’re going to be seeing a lot of me from now on. In fact, I mean to come calling again as soon as I can.” One of the curtains moved behind Steven, and Emma wondered who was eavesdropping—Chloe or Daisy. Emma’s desperation drove her to lie. “That would not be proper, I’m afraid. You see, I plan to become engaged to Mr. Whitney very soon.” Steven caught hold of her hand and dragged it to his mouth, where he kissed the knuckles. It was as though she hadn’t spoken. “Good night, Miss Emma,” he said fondly. “Sweet dreams.” There

else. She did stand you up.” He tilted my chin with his fingertips so that I was looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not going to give up. She is. And I don’t want to pursue anyone else.” We stood gazing into each other’s eyes and I realized that I needed to get him out of my house and get back to my bubble bath. I should use him for inspiration... “Look, I was in the middle of something very important before you came over, so if you could leave right now so I can get back to it, that would be great. Maybe we can talk about what happened over the weekend at work tomorrow? For the record, I really am sorry I stood you up. I had every intention of being there but—” He silenced me with a kiss and I kissed him back with a passion I’d never felt before. He reached down and untied my robe, pushing it off my shoulders and onto the floor. Smiling, he assaulted my mouth with his tongue again, using his hands to tug at the drawstring on my pants. All of sudden, I felt a vibrating sound going off in my pocket. Before I could reach down and shut it off, he reached into my pants and pulled out my favorite purple friend. He examined it for a few seconds, blinking. Then he held it front of my face and smirked. “Is this what I was interrupting?” It’s been four years....Four. Long. Years... “Claire?” He cupped my chin and held my face so I wouldn’t be able to turn away. “Is this what you were doing?” “I...” I swallowed. Then I went for it. “What if it was?” A slow, sexy smile spread across his lips. “Then I think I should finish what you started.” He sealed his mouth over mine again and pressed me against the island, making it hard for me to breathe. I’d never been kissed like he was kissing me; it felt like I was having sex—with my mouth. He was controlling my tongue with his, molding his perfectly full lips to mine, and biting down on my

There’s my sweet girl,” he whispered as he kissed her nose. “You did so well, baby.

Look at me,” he whispered against her skin, kissing her thigh. “Watch me while I feast.

All these people will watch as you come for me. Do you want to show them how you’ll get on your knees and beg for my cock in your mouth too? Or would you rather sit on my lap in this ride while I fuck you from behind? Everyone will watch because I won’t give you a chance to resist. Those are the options if you kiss me right now.

Because you’re the only person that can get under my skin as you do,” I told her fast. “Because with you, I know it’s more than one kiss. I know it’s more than one night. It’s everything. It’s a lifetime. And I am powerless against it.

The Bodyguard and the Hula Girl He’s my boy toy And I’m his hula girl. He’s Mister Bodyguard And I’m a kitten’s breath away From falling hard. Or maybe just falling Into the abyss And selfishly using his bright smile and kiss As a breathing apparatus. Am I toying with this boy’s heart? I don’t mean to do it, if I am, Honestly. But, yeah, probably, I am. Because it comes so naturally to me To tease and please, so damned easily That I might not even know it If indeed I’m performing Or otherwise committing a sin or misdeed. Is this a yarn I’m spinning Or a true story with a perfect beginning? If this is a dream, then don’t wake me from it, Please. And if it’s more than that, If it’s genuine reality, Then teach me how to believe it, To know for certain when a romance goes From ephemeral to irrevocable, Fictional to factual, When a fairytale becomes dependable and actual, Rather than merely hormonal and situational. Yes, I’ve been playing with my boy toy, I’m sure of it now, All the while praying I don’t break him Or make him hate me Or leave me, Or, God forbid, go back to Daphne. That bitch. But is she really more of a bitch than me? Because I’ve been playing with my boy toy Shamelessly, All the while closing my eyes and praying That when he finds out The Package Ain’t what she’s cracked up to be He’ll still somehow, miraculously, Inexplicably... For reasons that will surely escape me... Reject the fate of poor Kevin and Whitney And decide to stay with me, His fucked-up hula girl, His koala in a eucalyptus tree, His clingy baby monkey. And by “stay,” by the way, I mean to say not just for a tour, But until a far-away day... As far away as... Maybe... Dare I say it... At the risk of sounding silly or naïve Or even flat-out crazy... An eternity?