Quotes from Don't...

Jack L. Pyke ·  354 pages

Rating: (1.1K votes)


“Today had been a shit day, and it seemed I wasn’t about to climb down off the crap cart any time soon.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“You need a load of those yellow sticky papers to tattoo no trespassing over his ass, because, seriously, I'm all out.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“There was this element to Gray, the part that always forced you to avoid his eyes at all costs. He could steal your soul with a look, necromance it, strip it bare, all to run it through his fingers, untangle the strands, then hand it back with a smile knowing every fault and flaw about you. “I’m”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“He sounded so lute-like in the heat of sex, soft, gentle, something that could force you to follow him blindly into the woods and not give a fuck that he led you to be eaten by the big bad wolf. But he wasn’t a big bad wolf. Not yet.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“Well,” I said, “glad I could be of service, sir.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...



“Two-way contract, Jack. That protection is there for you too.” A pause. “It always has been. I’m not about to let either of you get hurt, well, unless it turns you both on.” Was it any wonder I liked this guy? “I”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“Had to be me. Christ knows I attracted the crackpots.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“I’d say perfectly balanced, but just fucking fuckable was all that came to mind around Gray. “Cosy.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


“But I didn’t relax. “Twenty-four hours, no longer,” said the voice. “And, Jack?” “What?” I spat. “Night, gorgeous.” I”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Don't...


About the author

Jack L. Pyke
Born place: in The United Kingdom
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“Kind of a Straight For You Thing?”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Backlash


“Good people?” Hangfire repeated. “Are you sure about that, Snicket? Would good people chop down a tree that was hundreds of years old, to erect a statue in honor of bloodshed? Would good people drain the sea, just so they could force ink out of the last few octopi? What do you think happened to the water that drained away? A whole valley was flooded. Countless creatures of Killdeer Fields were drowned, and an entire village was forced to leave their homes, just so the Knight family could add a few pennies to their ink fortune and the town could limp along for a little while longer.”
― Lemony Snicket, quote from Why Is This Night Different from All Other Nights?


“Oscar’s breath warmed the back of her head, his lips brushing against her hair, loosened from a braid. He drew a lock away from her neck and kissed the skin just beneath her earlobe, against the throb of her quickening pulse. Like the blackness outside the dome of lamplight, there seemed to be nothing more in the world than his lips, his touch, and the flood of heat consuming her.
With a gentle nudge, Oscar turned her toward him. He looked at her the way he had in the Grampains meadow-as if she was the most fascinating woman he’d ever seen. Under his gaze she felt fascinating, too. Capivating…wanted. He traced her jaw with his lips, kissing the angle of her neck ever so tenderly, as though he weren’t certain she wanted him, too. Camille closed the inch of space left between them, her body pressing against his. The muscles in his chest and arms tightened. He was wanted, and she needed to show him how much. No one was there to watch, no one to judge, or tell her the lips caressing her were unworthy of tasting her skin.
With those very thoughts, Oscar’s grip loosened. His lips retreated.
“This isn’t right,” he whispered, catching his breath.
Camille stared at him, her hurt and disappointment plain on her face.
“You’re engaged, Camille.” He looked around the room. His eyes rested on the bed. “I shouldn’t be here.”
All of a sudden, Camille completely and fully detested Randall. Good, sweet, well-meaning Randall infuriated her with his mere existence, with his big sapphire ring and his marriage proposal and his bright, wealthy future as the savior of Rowen & Company. She didn’t want any of it if it meant she couldn’t have Oscar’s kisses, the return of his hands, and his body pressed close to her own.
“I want you here,” she said, the words unable to express the desires stampeding her mind.
Oscar licked his lips but stepped toward the doorway. “I can’t. If you’re going to marry Randall-“
Camille hushed him. “No, don’t. Please, don’t.” She didn’t want to hear Randall’s name coming from Oscar’s lips, not when she so desperately wanted to kiss them.
“He’s not here. And you are, and…what if you stayed?” she asked, unable to believe the words had come from her mouth. He lost the tense hold of his shoulders and stared at her with disbelief.
“Nothing improper, of course,” she added quickly. “What if you just stayed until…until I fell asleep?”
Citrus and cloves charged through her sense with their dizzying effect as Oscar stepped back inside the room.
He tilted his head and looked sideways at her. “Just until you fall asleep?”
She nodded, her throat too tight with nerves to speak.”
― Angie Frazier, quote from Everlasting


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