“Cause all you gotta know is, it's gonna be you and only you until the day I die... You're not just enough for me. You're everything I want.”
“You think I’m a man who’s got a thing that good, he’ll let it go?”
“No,” I whispered.
“That would be fuck no,” he corrected.”
“Baby, you stare at my dick any longer, Miss Mildred’s gonna have to send out a search party.”
… “I was staring at your hip muscles,” I corrected.
“Whatever,” he muttered, his lips now smiling too, then louder, “just sayin’, anything in that vicinity, your eyes on it, it’ll get thoughts on its own.”
“So noted,” I mumbled.”
“If you’re the kind of woman who can withstand the blaze of hellfire he’s got burning inside, he battles that and wins, you will know nothing for the rest of your life, no taste, no experience, not even the birth of your children that will be sweeter than the love he’ll have for you.”
“You do it for me because you were the girl across the street, your hair shining in the sun, laughing, making me fall in love with you, and I didn't even goddamned fucking know you.”
“He backed me into a wall, caging me in, got in my face and explained he is most definitely into me.”
When I was done speaking, her lips were parted and her eyes were glazed.
“KC?” I called when she didn’t say anything.
“Shh,” she shushed me. “I’m having an orgasm.”
“Then how's this? You ignite for me, but more, you make me ignite for you. And no woman, not in my whole goddamned life, has made me ignite the way you do.”
“How into you do you think I am?”
“Honey, you crawled around on all fours in a pet store, totally unable to cope with bein’ in my space. You’re seriously into me.”
“You,that dress, those shoes, that hair, beverages and furniture you can get horizontal on would not be a good combination.”
“I was concentrating on taking in all this fabulousness so I might have missed the full orgasm, but I was relatively certain I had a mini one.
Then he smiled.
There it was.
The full orgasm.
It was a wonder I didn’t moan.”
“I'll be contacting Webster tomorrow. My suggestion will be absofuckingmazing.”
“You called her a cunt,” I reminded him.
“He threw out a hand, his brows shooting up. “Were you not just here? She is a cunt.”
This was not debatable. I didn’t even know why I brought it up.”
“Babe, tell me right now you aren’t fuckin’ with me.”
“I’m kind of fucking with you in the hopes that you’ll return the favour,” I replied.”
“Am I gonna traumatize the fat cat if he sees me fuckin' you?"
"As you know, his name is Spot, and he's immune to trauma. You can't feel it if your life is devoted to dishing it out.”
“We went to the double feature last night”…
“My recollection, it was a triple,” Raiden muttered.”
“It was then Raiden Ulysses Miller scorched me a second time, but I didn't battle this blaze. There was no pain. But that didn't mean I didn't end up branded.”
“I know, child. What do you think's keeping me on this earth? Not easy to let go that kind of love. That kind of love's got the power to hold you tethered to a world you should have left a long time ago.”
“She stared into his eyes and announced, “A good-bye kiss.”
It was at that Raid stopped dead. “What?”
“Raiden, the gig is up,” she declared, and Raid closed his eyes.
Jesus, how could the woman be so infuriating and so fucking cute all at once?
He opened his eyes and asked, “The gig is up?”
She leaned into him and hissed, “Yes.”
Fuck, he wanted to kiss her.
He also wanted to shake her.
“Baby, it’s jig,” he corrected, and her head jerked, which made that mess of hair on her head jerk, which reminded him he wanted his hands in that hair.
He needed to speed this shit up.
“Sorry?” she asked, sounding confused, and he looked from her hair to her eyes and saw she was, in fact, confused.
Yeah. Infuriating. And fucking cute.
“The jig is up, not the gig,” he told her.
Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You’re correcting my street lingo?”
“Think that street lingo was the street lingo about eight decades ago, Hanna. So now it’s just lingo.”
“Raiden is a silly-@ss romance novel hero’s name my Mom came up with to torture me,” he replied.
I stifled a giggle and remarked, “And Raid isn’t silly?”
He smiled. “Raid’s a bad@ss’s name.”
“He called me baby. I didn’t look to confirm, and I was glad he didn’t either, seeing as I was relatively certain my nipples were now hard.”
“Don’t get ideas. That boy’s behind won’t mount a bike, precious. He might blow one up in a military exercise, but he’s not gonna ride alongside you while you mosey into town and pick up salad fixin’s for dinner.”
“So you get I’m into you”
“Quiet, babe, i got some issues to work through”
“She knew you'd know nothing sweeter than the love I give you."
"Was she right?"
“This is what you have to learn. Don’t backtalk. Don’t explain. Don’t protest. Don’t fight it out. Just say, ‘All right, honey,’ and do whatever the hell you want. For example, just this morning, Mark said, ‘Make tacos tonight, babe,’ before he kissed me good-bye. No ‘please’. No, ‘are you feeling like tacos?’ Just ‘make them.’” She tipped her head to the side. “Now, are we having tacos?” She shook her head. “Hell no. We had tacos two days ago. I get he loves my tacos, but eff that. My friend is coming over and I just had tacos. Furthermore, I have to make the damn things. So we’re having a roast. You serve company a good roast. Not freaking tacos.”
“Coulda knocked me over with a feather, the front bell went and I opened the door to that tall drink of cool water. Woke up and I knew it was a good day. Felt it in my bones. Opened the door to him, glad I was right.”
“Meg spends her days at a shit job she hates and spends most of the rest of her time working out and starving herself, so she’s usually in a bitchy mood because she pretty much hates her life, but definitely needs a sandwich. Contradicting that shit, she doesn’t have a problem pouring alcohol down her throat and smoking a shitload of grass, which gives her the munchies she refuses to give into, thus the vicious cycle with her bein’ a bitch and makin’ the mellowing qualities of pot lost on her.”
“Me disse: "As cousas árduas e lustrosas
Se alcançam com trabalho e com fadiga;
Faz as pessoas altas e famosas
“Real people don’t have concise character arcs.”
“She has a caller ID system,” Reacher said. “With coordinates. She’s probably watching this house right now, on Google Earth.” “But it’s dark.” “Don’t ask me how it works.” He”
“There was one panicked moment. He picked a book from the wall, and the shapes inside, all the letters, were friends to him; but as he settled before them and began to mouth and mutter them, waiting for them to sound as words in his head, they were all gibberish. He grew frantic very quickly, fearing that he had lost what it was he had gained.t pieced it together into a different language. Shekel was dumbstruck at the realization that these glyphs he had conquered could do the same job for so many peoples who could not understand each other at all. He grinned as he thought about it. He was glad to share.
He opened more foreign volumes, making or trying to make the noises that the letters spelled and laughing at how strange they sounded. He looked carefully at the pictures and cross-referenced them again, tentatively he concluded that in this lanugage, this particular clutch of letters meant 'boat' and this other set 'moon'.
....he reached new shelving and opened a book whose script was like nothing he knew. He laughed, delighted at its strange curves.
He moved off further and found yet another alphabet. And a little way off there was another.
For hours he found intrigue and astonishment by exploring the non-Ragamoll shelves. He found in those meaningless words and illegible alphabets not only an awe at the world, but the remnants of the fetishism to which he had been subjected before, when all books had existed for him as those did now, only as mute objects with mass and dimension and color, but without content.
He gazedc at the books in Base and High Kettai and Sunglari and Lubbock and Khadohi with a kind of fascinated nostalgia for his own illiteracy, without for a fraction of a moment missing it.”
“Will you stop being cute? Your nose is smudging the window. My god, you’re worse than a puppy,”
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