I don't know if anyone's ever told you this", he begins. He doesn't blush, and his eyes don't dart away. Instead I find myself staring into a pair of oceans - one perfect, the other blemished by that tiny ripple. "You're very attractive." catches me off guard. But it startles me so much that without thinking I blurt out, "I could say the same about you." I pause. "In case you didn't know."A slow grin spreads across his face. "Oh, trust me. I know.

I’m stuck babysitting turtle eggs while a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer tries to hit on me.” I’m not hitting on you,” he protested.No?”Believe me, you’d know if I was hitting on you. You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from succumbing to my charms.

At first I did not love you, Jude; that I own. When I first knew you I merely wanted you to love me. I did not exactly flirt with you; but that inborn craving which undermines some women's morals almost more than unbridled passion--the craving to attract and captivate, regardless of the injury it may do the man--was in me; and when I found I had caught you, I was frightened. And then--I don't know how it was-- I couldn't bear to let you go--possibly to Arabella again--and so I got to love you, Jude. But you see, however fondly it ended, it began in the selfish and cruel wish to make your heart ache for me without letting mine ache for you.

You know, Miss Holly, you look very dramatic like that, backlit by the fire. Very attractive, if I may say so. I know you shared a moment passionne with Artemis which he subsequently fouled up with his typical boorish behavior. Let me just throw something out there for you to consider while we're chasing the probe: I share Artemis's passion but not his boorishness. No pressure; just think about it.This was enough to elicit a deafening moment of silence even in the middle of a crisis, which Orion seemed to be blissfully unaffected by.

Oh well... I'd just been thinking, if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet.

Okay," I said. "Just a normal afternoon and two normal people."She nodded. "And so...hypothetically, if these to people likes each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl, huh?""Oh..." I felt like one of Apollo's sacred cows-slow, dumb, and bright red. "Um...

My shoulder will never be the same. I expect you to nurse me back to health.'-Jace'Just break the door down, will you?'-Clary

He flashed the warmest smile I'd ever seen, and my heart felt comforted. Maybe D.J. saw my insecurities, my fears. Maybe he knew God still had a lot of work to do in my life before I'd be good girlfriend material.Or maybe, just maybe, he saw beyond all that and simply wanted to flirt with the wedding coordinator instead of rehearse for the big night.I did my best to relax...and let him.

Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well.""And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased. Sam turned bright red. "That," he said, "is so not the point of this conversation.

I think of you only twice a day - when I am alone and when I am with someone else.

I shan't mind if you don't," he agreed. "But I'll not let you go, Prudence. Til not pester you, but know this: I will wait until you choose to listen to your heart.""Pshaw." It was a feeble effort. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Humbug! How can you presume to know my heart?"He smiled a slow, devastating smile. "You are my heart." He lifted her hand and kissed it. "And our hearts beat in tune. I know it—I, who used not to believe in such things. And you know it.

What if I shave?" he said. "I look much better when I'm shaved. My cousin will vouch for that—do I not look almost handsome when I shave, Edward? " He didn't wait for the duke's reply but turned earnestly back to Prudence. "Do you think you could marry me if I shaved?

I hope I haven't given you the impression that I consider kissing intrinsically irrational.

I have a question for you. "If your shadow is the second most beautiful thing in the world, which is the first?".

I always have many roads to travel, but I take the one which leads to you.

There is no cosmetic to gain a beauty like yours.

I am sure that God has given all his time in making you, the remaining human race has been created in haste.

Hey, where are you going?" His voice, confused yet curious, called after me. "Hey. Why didn't your mother name you Maybe, or We'll see, or What's-Your-Number? That way, we could call our first born Absolutely.

Life is not a dress rehearsal. Finding love is all about taking a risk, taking control of your social life, and knowing that you won't waste today because tomorrow is a gift.

My spouse is my shield, my spouse is my strength.

If a man, who says he loves you, won’t tell you the details of a private conversation between him and another woman you can be sure he is not protecting your heart. He is protecting himself and the women he has feelings for. Wise women simply see things as they are, not as their low self-esteem allows.

Unfortunately, he still hadn’t asked for my number, or a date, or my hand in marriage, and my drink was getting low.

It's so weird that adults in committed relationships have a problem with something so innocuous as flirting. I would never expect you to walk around with a paper bag over your head to avoid catching the eye of a stranger, nor would I discourage you making friendly conversation with whomever you might encounter during the day. And if you needed to fuck somebody else, we could talk about it. People change, our desires evolve, and it feels foolish to me to expect what you'll want two, five, or ten years from now will be exactly the same thing that fills you up today. I mean, the way I feel about fidelity has evolved over the last ten years of my life. It's a hard-and-fast rule that we don't apply to any other thing in our lives: YOU MUST LOVE THIS [SHOW/BOOK/FOOD/SHIRT] WITH UNWAVERING FERVOR FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL LIFE. Could you imagine being forced to listen to your favorite record from before your music tastes were refined for the rest of your life? Right now I'm pretty sure I could listen to Midnight Snack by HOMESHAKE for the rest of my life, but me ten years ago was really into acoustic Dave Matthews, and I'm not sure how I feel about that today. And yes, I am oversimplifying it, but really, if in seven years you want to have sex with the proverbial milkman, just let me know about it beforehand so I can hide my LaCroix and half eaten wedge of port salut. ('Milkmen' always eat all the good snacks.)

This is going to take forever.""I wouldn't mind spending forever with you," Zaid winked.

A snap of Rhys’s fingers, and my nightclothes—and some flimsy underthings—appeared on the bed. “I couldn’t decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.” “Pig,” I barked

You should praise, criticize and flirt with people right to their face, only then it will make a difference.

What are we talking about again?” he asks.I say science at the same time that he says love, and we both laugh.“What are the ingredients?” he prompts me again.“Mutual self-interest and socioeconomic compatibility.”“Do you even have a soul?”“No such thing as a soul,” I say.

When she looked at him with those dark eyes, Nassar felt the urge to say something intelligent and deeply impressive. Unfortunately, nothing of the kind came to mind.

On to the library. And all through his time at the card catalog, combing the shelves, filling out the request cards, he danced a silent, flirtatious minuet of the eyes with a rosy-cheeked redhead in the biology section, pages of notes spread before her. All his life, he had had a yen for women in libraries. In a cerebral setting, the physical becomes irresistible. Also, he figured he was really more likely to meet a better or at least more compatible woman in a library than in a saloon. Ought to have singles libraries, with soups and salads, Bach and Mozart, Montaignes bound in morocco; place to sip, smoke, and seduce in a classical setting, noon to midnight. Chaucer's Salons, call them, franchise chain.

Now I get why I'm incapable of flirting for I can't Lie!

I hardly have a typo when I am drunk and texting! But, I will have enough typos when I am emotionally charged with love, lust, poetry and hope, and texting!

Love begins with the stage of subconscious primitive lust and attraction. I’m saying primitive because at this very early stage there is really no difference between primitive man and modern man.

Males of all species are made for wooing females, and females typically choose among their suitors. If you take a closer look, you can observe such behavior all around you. The beautiful bird chirping outside your window. It’s a mating call. That pretty little bird is trying to attract a potential mate, so that it can propagate its genes. Why does the peacock have such beautiful feathers? It is to attract a healthy female. He as well is trying to propagate his genes. Even we humans, are not much different from the rest of the animal kingdom when it comes to attracting potential mates. When women dress up for their night out at the club, they are doing so to look attractive. This is a subconscious evolutionary desire to attract as many potential mates as possible.... While women tend to grab attention with their looks, men on the other hand, tend to attract as many potential females as possible, by showing off their resources. When a man shows off with his fancy car, expensive gold watch and suit, or flexes his muscles and brags about how many credit cards he owns, he’s doing so to make himself desirable by healthy women, in order to propagate his genes. It is all in the pursuit of reproduction.

Nature programmed the neurobiological processes of early love to appear as something beyond the primitive sexual cravings of the genitals. So, from an evolutionary standpoint, it all leads to copulation and reproduction, but from the perspective of the individual who has recently fallen head over heels in love with someone, it is mostly about a sensation of warmth and delight, and rarely of sexual nature.

There is always the risk: something is good and good and good and good, and then all at once it gets awkward. All at once, she sees you looking at her, and then she doesn't want to joke around with you anymore, because she doesn't want to seem flirty, because she doesn't want you to think she likes you. It’s such a disaster, whenever, in the course of human relationships, someone begins to chisel away at the wall of separation between friendship and kissing. Breaking down that wall is the kind of story that might have a happy middle— oh, look, we broke down this wall, I’m going to look at you like a girl and you’re going to look at me like a boy and we’re going to play a fun game called Can I Put My Hand There What About There What About There. And sometimes that happy middle looks so great that you can convince yourself that it’s not the middle but will last forever.

I’m gonna take a nap, Heaven,” he said, wanting away from her to clear his head. He didn’t like feeling uncomfortable in his house.“Haven,” she corrected him as he started to walk away.“I know,” he said. “I kinda like Heaven though.”She turned to him, and their eyes met for the first time since he’d walked into the room. “Me, too.

He slouches,' DeeDee contributes.'True--he needs to work on his posture,' Thelma says.'You guys,' I say.'I'm serious,' Thelma says. 'What if you get married? Don't you want to go to fancy dinners with him and be proud?''You guys. We are not getting married!''I love his eyes,' Jolene says. 'If your kids get his blue eyes and your dark hair--wouldn't that be fabulous?''The thing is,' Thelma says, 'and yes, I know, this is the tricky part--but I'm thinking Bliss has to actually talk to him. Am I right? Before they have their brood of brown-haired, blue-eyed children?'I swat her. "I'm not having Mitchell's children!''I'm sorry--what?' Thelma says.Jolene is shaking her head and pressing back laughter. Her expressing says, Shhh, you crazy girl!But I don't care. If they're going to embarrass me, then I'll embarrass them right back. 'I said'--I raise my voice--'I am not having Mitchell Truman's children!'Jolene turns beet red, and she and DeeDee dissolve into mad giggles.'Um, Bliss?' Thelma says. Her gaze travels upward to someone behind me. The way she sucks on her lip makes me nervous.'Okaaay, I think maybe I won't turn around,' I announce.A person of the male persuasion clears his throat.'Definitely not turning around,' I say. My cheeks are burning. It's freaky and alarming how much heat is radiating from one little me.'If you change your mind, we might be able to work something out,' the person of the male persuasion says.'About the children?' DeeDee asks. 'Or the turning around?''DeeDee!' Jolene says.'Both,' says the male-persuasion person.I shrink in my chair, but I raise my hand over my head and wave.'Um, hi,' I say to the person behind me whom I'm still not looking at. 'I'm Bliss.'Warm fingers clasp my own.'Pleased to meet you,' says the male-persuasion person. 'I'm Mitchell.''Hi, Mitchell.' I try to pull my hand from his grasp, but he won't let go. 'Um, bye now!'I tug harder. No luck. Thelma, DeeDee, and Jolene are close to peeing their pants.Fine. I twist around and give Mitchell the quickest of glances. His expressions is amused, and I grow even hotter.He squeezes my hand, then lets go. 'Just keep me in the loop if you do decide to bear my children. I'm happy to help out.' With that, he stride jauntily to the food line.Once he's gone, we lost it. Peals of laughter resound from our table, and the others in the cafeteria look at us funny. We laugh harder.'Did you see!' Thelma gasps. 'Did you see how proud he was?''You improve his posture!' Jolene says.'I'm so glad, since that was my deepest desire,' I say. 'Oh my God, I'm going to have to quit school and become a nun.''I can't believe you waved at him,' DeeDee says.'Your hand was like a little periscope,' Jolene says. 'Or, no--like a white surrender flag.''It was a surrender flag. I was surrendering myself to abject humiliation.''Oh, please,' Thelma says, pulling me into a sideways hug. 'Think of it this way: Now you've officially talked to him.

A woman's dress should be like a barbed-wire fence: serving its purpose without obstructing the view.

This night is going well."Hello there."I speak too soon.Dunstan enters, his two cronies behind him. Everyone standing around goes quiet. I flinch, but not for me; he's gazing at Ivy like a lion at a piece of meat. Ivy just keeps grinning."And may I say you are the prettiest girl I've seen all night," Dunstan says, not noticing the fact Ivy's already taken.Ivy stares down at her feet, a pale blush the color of pink roses brushed across her cheeks. "You don't mean that," she whispers, not knowing she's accidentally flirting."I really do," Dunstan continues in his oily, supposedly charming voice, and I roll my eyes. I want to pull Ivy away, but if I do, Dunstan will notice me. And without Melanie breathing down his neck, who knows what he'll try to pull?"So what's your name, beautiful?"Ivy blush deepens and i feel my nails dig into my skin. I'm the one whose supposed to tell her she's pretty, not this jerk."My name is Ivy," Ivy replies."Ivy. I like it. It suits you."I feel an arm on my shoulder and turning around, I see Aidan holding me back. Unconsciously, I've stepped forward, ready to challenge him."So what is your name?" Ivy asks, still shyly peering down at her shoeless feet.Acting all surprised he got asked this, Dunstan runs a hand through his hair. "My name is Dunstan."Ivy's flush instantly vanishes, the corners of her mouth turns down, and her eyebrows knit together."Dunstan? This is your name?" Quiet as she's being, I know there's anger there. I'd hate to be the recipient of this tone.But Dunstan the egotistical baboon butt isn't aware of the change. "Yep, that's me.""What is your last name?" I feel someone shaking. Aidan's still hanging on to me, and he's nervous, too.Dunstan still doesn't detect her malice. "Why, my last name's Lebelle. Dunstan Lebelle." He chuckles. "Perhaps you've heard of me?""Oh yes," Ivy hisses, suddenly radiating ferocious fury. "I've heard much about the boy who nearly got Rylan Forester killed."Even with blaring music in the next room, you can hear a pin drop throughout the kitchen as everyone goes quiet, having lost all ability to talk due to flapping jaws. Someone whistles."Excuse me?" Dunstan sounds like he can't believe what he's hearing."You heard me." Ivy glares, knowing she has him caught. "You pushed Rylan into the swamp where the alligator attacked him. Sure, you can blame the alligator, but when you really think about, if you had not pushed him in, Rylan wouldn't have nearly died. Who, by the way," Ivy steps back, clasping my free hand in hers, "happens to be my friend and my date."Everyone bursts into titters—no one has ever spoken to Dustan Lebelle like that—as Dunstan stares at me wide-eyed, finally taking in my existence. But before he can do anything, Ivy pulls my hand."We're leaving," she declares, giving Dunstan one last stink eye. And with her nose in the air and me following, Ivy boldly walks right out the back door.

At the end of the day…we are anchoring into the peaceful lagoon, smiling at the majestic sun and its flirting rays, slowly slipping into the glittering ballroom of immense night skies, sipping on the platinum moon liquor under the blues of rippling waves kissing my golden foot hanging over the board of gently rocking boat, and diving into the bed of galaxies whispering magical stories of their eternal lives connecting souls…till the dawn…

There might have been prettier women in the room but, when she turned those babies on, fluttered her eyelashes, I was hers. It had taken me nearly fifteen years to extinguish their light. Now, when she looks at me, it's a vacuum. I had drained so much from her over the course of our marriage that every glance rips a little bit of my soul away to fill the void I had whittled within her.

My mother was tickled and I think kind of proud when my father got hit on my an attractive middle-aged Asian lady who hadn't noticed he was with his family. He was certainly pleased about it.

I Am Not Sherlock, But I Will Share Happiness With You And Lock you In My Heart For The Rest Of My Life.

For you the guy should be the one who will look like the God among the guys.

The bent head, the averted eye, the faltering voice, the wincing figure- these, and not the unshrinking gaze and frank reply, are the true signals of passion.

Flirting is a woman’s trade, one must keep in practice.

Flirting is the promise of sex with no guarantee. A successful brand, then, is the promise and guarantee of a mind shattering experience each and every time.

They say I should stay away from you,” I said. “They said you’re not good for me.” “I’m not,” he said with a wicked smile, “But doesn’t that make it even more fun?

Women have got it all wrong now. They give it up too soon, and the men don't respect them. And before you tell me I don't have a clue, let me tell you something. By the time I let my future husbands climb into my bed, I'd made them work for it. And you know what? By the time they left it the next morning, they were begging for me to marry them.

Beyond these moments, she could hardly count the fumbling ministrations of boys in high school who, even to her senior prom, never went beyond sticky pleasantries. With one exception, it was just a sort of half-clothed handshake for bragging rights, none hers.

Thanks. Seriously, you must have better things to do with your life than waste it on the hopeless?''I've already learned Parseltongue. What else is there?''Elvish.

A flirtatious soul misses the point of intimate trust relations.

You flirt with everything." She could tell that her eyes were popping-- her eyeballs actually felt cold around the edges. "You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.

Hurry up, before there's no more night left.

He wasn't good with this sort of thing - with the back-and-forth dance between man and woman. He wasn't even sure if they were dancing, or if she was merely being polite.

There is no compromise when it comes to someones delicate feelings, the only way out is to stop pretending and set yourself free from someones life.

I wasn't concerned, but I was thinking that the fastest way to get your mind off him and on me would be to tell you something truly appalling about him.

Demelza was beginning to feel like a lion tamer who has been putting his pets through their paces and finds them getting out of hand.

Ben & Jerry's Lifestyle: Lots of options, exciting flavors and never repeating a scoop.

You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?”“Yes.” He didn’t dare move.“Then why are you still wearing clothes?

Myths tend to spiral out of control. Do you howl at the full moon and steal maidens to devour?""Depends on the maiden," he said.Was he flirting with me? Devouring didn't really go with flirting, but his tone of voice did. Was this how werewolves flirted? Hey, baby, if I had to kill any girl and eat her flesh, it would be you...clean sweep

There are two causes for "burning": passionate desires coming from our thoughts, and flirting.

If you have to convince someone that you are their soulmate then you didn't realize the thousand other guys applying for the job.

I can see how your mother would have a point. Having a debate with a politically minded woman can be intriguing and even entertaining but to share a house with her and have her always campaigning and protesting at the dinner table,” he slanted his gaze down toward me. “That could be very tiring indeed.

And you’re kind of like a snowflake.’Oh, Jesus Christ.He masked his fleeting surprise with a quirked eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’‘Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘I didn’t say anything.’‘No, no,’ he said, rounding on me so his face was too close, his eyes too searing, his smile too irritating. ‘I’m a snowflake, am I?

Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent . . . and that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous. It looks so bad. It is simply washing one's clean linen in public...

Flirt with the old ladies and you’ll be fine,” I muttered, shoving my stuff into the cubby. He hung his green hoodie on the hooks right beside me. “Is that how you get by?” “Doesn’t work on the old ladies for me, but the old men on the other hand?” I paused and glanced at my nails. “Yeah, doesn’t work on them either.

Yeah, well. Don’t be that guy, Brady. Don’t be the guy who loves his horse too much.

What can I do?” his gaze on me was intense, like I was some sort of love guru or something. I almost laughed out loud at how unqualified I was for that position.

Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!” Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing.“Do you really like it? You’re just saying that so that you can check out my belly!”“And what’s so bad about that? I mean, didn’t you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?”“No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?”“Actually, I do,” Heeb replied.“Where?”“My appendix.”“Huh?”“I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?”“That’s pretty original,” she replied, amused.“Oh yeah. I’ve outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport.”Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, “Don’t you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?”“Nah. I figure I’ll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It’ll be a two for one operation, if you know what I mean.

To think I actually talked to the boy who nearly got you killed," Ivy mutters, shuddering with disgust. "I'm so sorry I did.""It's okay. You didn't know," I reassure her as we take a seat on some pool chairs."But you told me before what his appearance was. I should have recognized him!""It's fine, Ivy. Even if you did your best to avoid him, he would've found way to hit on you eventually."Ivy wrinkles her nose at the unfamiliar language. " 'Hit on'? What does that mean?""Flirting. Or, for Dunstan, more like a procedure. He's been hitting on any pretty girl he sees ever since he and Melanie broke up. I don't know if he's doing this to make her jealous or what, but it's really annoying."I look back up to see Ivy go rigid. For some reason she looks classically surprised; her hand is over her mouth, and the rosy blush is back with a vengeance,"Ivy? You okay?"Ivy removes her hand, muttering something so quietly I can't hear it."Sorry?""You called me pretty." The moment those words are said, Ivy stares down at her feet as her face gets brighter."Well, yeah," I murmur, my face hot. "You really are beautiful tonight, Ivy.

I thought of writing a summary about you, but when I finished it was a book.

With you as an inspiration, a painter will create his best painting, a writer will write his best literature and a poet will create his best poetry.

The darkest hour of my day is the one in which I don't get to see you.

Every time I see you, I have to admit that rest of us are more uglier than I thought.

I think poverty is not the worst thing in the world, blindness is, because blind people cannot see your beauty.

The air is full of flying kisses sent by the people who are watching you.

If I have only one coin left in the world, I will buy a rose to propose to you.

Children have always liked the princess story, but they never knew what was her name. I think the princess was, is and will always be you.

If sleep wasn't necessary, I would have used those 8 hours just to gaze at you.

The moon is too old, the flower is too old;even the sunset is not enough. The only relevant metaphor for you is your mirror image.

Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. Where are Angels like you are from?

I am a mathematician and I can confidently say that the best figure ever produced is your phone number.

In material things, there are seven wonders; in human beings there is only one wonder - and that's you.

If sleep wasn't necessary, I would have used those 8 hours to gaze at you.

If beauty had religious and spiritual importance, there would have been your temples all around the world.

The blinking of eyes is an involuntary reflex action, provided they eyes are not watching your beauty.

We sat there smiling at each other, shimmied to a standstill, thinking about all the boys that had wanted us that day, and how none of them had got us, not for a minute; how we'd let them pay for drinks and candyfloss and then run away laughing, their cries of 'Slags!' and 'Bitches' ringing in our ears like respect rather than derision.

It's not who, it's when

He takes the beer and sets it on the floor. "I've never been into guys. So, this attraction to you is a little weird for me." I try to ease his mind by telling him that a lot of straight guys have at least one homosexual experience in their lifetime and that it's pretty normal."Yeah… that's what I hear.""So don't over-think it. Just do me." He laughs, runs his hand down my arms, over my chest, and follows my happy trail down to my pubes.

...Where we got to know eachother. Not just with words, it was how we observed eachother's movements. The way your smile only effected the lower half of your face. How our hands moved when they were close: as if they had minds of their own.

Maybe before you start flirting with boys and kissing boys and trying to date boys, you should know who you are and where you stand.

He stops walking and grasps both of my hands to stop me. He narrows his eyes at me. "You’ve never been tickled? Ever?” His lips curl in a wickedly sexy smile. “You’re a tickle…virgin?”I nod and tilt my head down, looking demure. He makes it sound so erotic. I finally find my voice. “It wasn’t a virginity I ever focused on.

It's like playing the lottery. It doesn't matter how extremely low the chances are of winning. You gotta be in it to win it. Hitting on every girl in sight is like buying a whole lot of lottery tickets. You never know, one day one of them might actually pay off.

He told me that when we first met, he had said to a friend about me: “If I get that girl’s number I will never ask another girl for her number again.

Give me a few minutes.”“You have time.” He sat in the grass.“Are you just going to sit there and watch me?”“Yes. Watching pretty peasant girls is what we poor little rich boys do best.”“Peasant?”He shrugged. “You started the name calling.

What kind of woman tells all her secrets?” my mother continued, flabbergasted and disappointed in me. “Especially anything that has to do with your body making babies! I know a woman who had no ovaries when she got married. Her husband found out only years later that they couldn’t have children. The two of them are happy together still; they live in a big house, and have a cute dog.

God bless your soul, you're a horrible liar." Logan smiled as he leaned back on the door. "Answer me this Rachel?" he said placing his hands on his waist. "Why do you keep staring at me?

...I know that if you ask me to jump I will say how high. So I will stay away from you and hope that you never ever say jump.

Well I guess I should ask what your name is in case I slip and touch you without getting permission, I'd like to know who's punching me." She giggled and said, "Nah, you have permission but if you need a name it’s Sindy, S-I-N, not like the girl next door, and what should I call you, besides the man I want to get naked?” He said “Keith, and if you want me to be the boy next door I can try, but I’ll probably fail.” She said- “Nope the boy next door is too much like the one whose nose I just tried to break; you can be the sexy stranger.

Sierra couldn’t afford complications, not in her position, but the way he flirted with her and teased had amped her touch hunger to a deafening roar.

The tiny match we've been fooling with just set off an explosion.

Lust and flirting are dangerous because at first they are not noticeable.

And where are you going?" His voice was playfully challenging. "To get some breakfast," she said without stopping.He leered. "I've got something for you to eat," he called after her."I might bite it off, though," she said over her shoulder.

Or maybe spring is the season of love and fall the season of mad lust. Spring for flirting but fall for the untamed delicious wild thing.

Where are we heading?”“The closest wooded area to here is Kenwood Academy’s estate. Good place to hide, especially at night.”“If we’re going into the woods, I definitely need to change.”I glanced back at her as we returned to the curb where the cab had dropped us off. “Or you could just go home.”She crossed her arms and avoided my gaze, scowling. “You’re sick of me already? That must be a record.”I lifted my eyes to the heavens. Women. “This creature tore out a woman’s throat and busted her chest cavity open like a piñata. I don’t like the thought of it being anywhere near you.”“Did it ever occur to you that I feel the same way?”Surprise flooded over me. “No, it…actually didn’t.”“I know I’m not as strong or as smart as you are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help. We’re partners, aren’t we?”“Yeah,” I said, and couldn’t stop the smile creeping across my lips. “I guess we are.” She tossed a quick look at me and frowned. “Quit it.”“What?”“I hate it when you do that.”“You hate it when I smile?”“No, when you make that, ‘aw, she does have a heart’ face. You look like a Disney prince.”I laughed. “My bad. I’ll work on that.

As we strolled into the hospital, I couldn’t help thinking about Maroon 5’s “Harder to Breathe” because I was having a difficult time staying calm. I had been kidnapped and beaten senseless by an agent of Lucifer, and yet the white coats the doctors wore scared me just as badly. The men who had taken me from my mother wore those same damned lab coats. Every time I saw one, it awakened a dormant fear inside me—fear that I’d be dragged away from someone I loved again, fear that I’d be placed into the waiting hands of another horrible person. It would never truly go away.Michael’s shoulder bumped mine, which shook me out of my thoughts. I glanced at him. “What?”“You’re frowning.”“Am I supposed to be smiling right now?”He faced forward, looking at our reflection in the elevator doors. “No, but you look like you’re about to bolt at any second.”I watched the digital numbers change one by one as we rose up to the right floor, fiddling with the rosary in the pocket of my leather jacket. Somehow, the beads had a calming effect on me. “I’m fine.”“Hard ass.”A tiny smirk touched my lips. “Stop thinking about my butt. You’re an archangel.”He grinned, but didn’t reply.

You heard Alanna. Someone’s got to be on you at all times.” His dark eyes glinted with a hot sort of mischief, his double entendre clear as day.

Honestly, he'd said more perverted things to my face. To my boobs. Did he really think he was school-ing me in being sexy right now?Really? You're completely unimpressed?Zzzzzzzzzzz, I wrote back.

And on the point-zero-five percent chance that I do lose, it'll get her on my bike, spreading her legs to straddle the leather and steel. No matter how much I've stuck to my self-imposed rule of "no chicks on the bike," that alone might be worth the small risk.

You don't like birthdays, Aelan?" The silver eyes ran over her gently. "Because I can help you love birthdays...trust me." ~Nolan

Feeble human body, hey?” Mikael said it in the way that he had, that made everything sound slightly naughty and sexual. I aimed three quick jabs at his head, which wiped the innuendo off his face.

Like the chosen Shulamite, there will be times when you too will be faced with crude assaults on your virtue, or with solicitations that will be naked attempts to cheapen your marriage. Being polite is one thing, but there comes a time. Even the peace-loving Jesus took a rope to those who disregarded the boundaries of his Father's house. Your house has boundaries too. Do what you must.pg 67

She [Nana] listened to his [Steiner's] propositions, turning them down every time with a shake of the head and that provocative laughter which is peculiar to full-bodied blondes.

I was merely observing; I have no agenda." He looked at his hand, still touching hers. "Where did you get that ring?"She contracted her hand into a fist as she pulled it away from him. The amethyst in her ring glowed in the firelight. "It was a gift.""From whom?""That's none of your concern."He shrugged, though she knew betterthan to tell him who'd really given it to her - rather, she knew Chaol wouldn't want Dorian to know. "I'd like to know who's been giving rings to my Champion."The way the collar of his black jacket lay across his neck made her unnable to sit still. She wanted to touch him, to trace the line between his tan skin and the golden lining of the fabric."Billiards?" she asked, rising to her feet. I could use another lesson." Celaena didn't wait for his answer as she strode toward the gaming room. She very much wanted to stand close to him and have her skin warm under his breath. She liked that. Worse than that, she realized, she liked him.

Steaming, Sebastian flies up out of his seat and makes a dramatic exit out the front door."Is he always so crazy?" I asked."Yeah. But he's a hot fuck. You'll see.""No thanks... I'll pass. That kid's severely psychotic.""He's just a jealous mess.""Why did you marry him?""We're not married. We're in an open relationship.""Thank God. I was seriously worried.""YEAH. Well I better go find him- before he slits his wrists.""GOOD IDEA. Better take some duct tape-- just in case you're too late.

Could you bring me to Rita’s house before we go to the airport?” I ask. “There’s one last thing I need to ask her to do.” “That is on the other side of the river,” says Ethan.“I know. But I need to see her. Please, I’ll be eternally grateful.” He doesn’t say anything, but instead puts the car in gear and starts the engine. After we are driving for about two minutes he asks. “How grateful?” Ah, I see the old Ethan hasn’t disappeared then. I smile and lean over to place a light peck on his cheek. “This grateful,” I say to him.“Hmm, I think you can do better than that,” he chides in good humor.“You’re driving,” is all I say in reply.“I can pull over,” he answers smartly.

For a moment, I tried to see myself through the eyes of the girl with the black hair, or even the boy in the cowboy hat, studying my features for a vibration under the skin. The effort was visible in my face, and I felt ashamed. No wonder the boy had seemed disgusted: He must have seen the longing in me. Seen how my face was blatant with need, like an orphan's empty dish. And that was the difference between me and the black-haired girl- her face answered all it's own questions.

See, admit it, you need my help.” “Fine. I need you… your help.” My admission made Ace’s half smile bloom into a full one. He really was devastatingly handsome. And so very, very unattainable. “What makes you say that, Riles?” His thumb brushed up my neck, as his other hand splayed a little wider along my hip. “Huh?He winked at me. “I’ve never been unattainable.” I stood there, dumbfounded. “I said that out loud?

My mum, in addition to trying to mutilate me with lobsters, always told me that shy kids get nothing.

Life is impoverished, it loses in interest, when the highest stake in the game of living, life itself, may not be risked. It becomes as shallow and empty as, let us say, an American flirtation.

Jessica walked away from Aaron and Ken, flashing them both a big smile. They were both very attractive – she had dated each of them a number of times. In fact, not too long ago she had contemplated falling in love with Ken for lack of anything better to do.

Stop raping me with your eyes!

Hekate smacked the mirror down. "I'd never fancy you," she retorted to Hermes. "And if you ever try to kiss me, I'll--I'll keep a snake hidden in my clothes and make it bite you. On the lips. And on both ears.""See, your threats are still age twelve," Hermes said. "I'll help you work on that.

You are pretty, aren’t you?”Rosika frowned. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.

That's it. New rule: no more flirting during the zombie apocalypse

Damn it, Elliot, do you ever make kissing easy?' he said, cupping his nose. 'Maybe you should learn not to be such a tease and get to it a little quicker,' I shot back. 'So, I've got to get to the kissing before you start thinking too hard about something else?' 'Something like that,' I said, reaching to check his nose. He winced. 'You'll heal in a minute,' I said with a smirk.

Male aggressiveness consists in asking a woman to have intercourse and waiting for her to say yes, or a definite no. Skilful tacticians enhance their chances of making out by distributing their attentions among several women at a time (one version of 'playing the field') thus increasing their statistical chances for a favorable answer, depending on circumstances. This is the height of male aggressiveness that is tolerated. Genuine aggressiveness - rape - [men] have forbidden themselves by law.

Women of dignity know when to stop expecting loyalty when he won't even give you honesty.

Well, if you weren't flirting with him"-his voice had now grown a little plaintive-"who was he, and what did you want with him anyway?""If you are so determined to bore me, I may just have to go home." Astrid sighed carelessly, "What a shame, when I am wearing such a pretty dress.

I want to see the front of you.”“That’s what all the girls say.”“Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.”“Your mate’s not going to like this.”“As if that’s going to bother you?”“True. It actually makes it worth the effort.”With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was.“Wow,” she breathed.“I know, right? Hung like a horse.”“If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.”“About my size.”She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.

I’veenjoyed our conversation, knight. It’s been nice talking to someonewho can—”“Create full and complete sentences?”That grin returned and, for a moment, his heart actually stoppedbeating. “No, it was nice to finally meet someone whose arrogance isonly rivaled by the arrogance of the gods.

You never listen to me anymore. Before, if I was talking to you, you would always listen. But now you have no time to even talk to me.'Yeah... Has Keaty told you not to eat the Stew?''Richard!'I frowned 'What?''You are not listening to me!''… Oh. Well I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind.''Not me.''Huh?''I am not on your mind.''Uh... of course you are.''I am not' she poked me in the ribs. 'I think you do not love me anymore.'I looked at her in astonishment '… Are you serious?''Very serious' she said petulantly'But... I mean... do we have to talk about this right now?''Yes. It must be now. Etienne is not here, and maybe soon I will never see you agai...''Francoise!' I hissed. 'Keep it down!''Maybe I should keep it down but maybe I should not. In the dope field, when I would not be quiet, you pushed me to the ground and held me tightly'. She giggled. 'It was very exciting'.