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“Wow," she whispered. "Gorgeous."

"Yeah," he said, looking at her.

She laughed. "That's cheesy."

He grinned. "You liked it."

"No, I didn't."

He peered at her over his dark sunglasses, letting his gaze slip past her face.

She followed his line of sight and realized that her nipples were pressing eagerly against the thin white cotton of her shirt. "That's because I'm cold," she said and crossed her arms over her chest.

He laughed. "It's seventy five degrees."

"Downright chilly," she said, nose in the air.

Grinning, he reeled her in, and with Thor (the dog) protesting between them, he kissed the living daylights out of her.”
― Jill Shalvis, Sweet Little Lies

“With her hands still fisted in his shirt, she gave a gentle tug until he bent enough that she could kiss him softly. And then not so softly.
“What was that for?” he asked when she pulled free, his voice sexy low and gruff now.
“For being the kind of guy who can admit he has emotions.”
He cupped her face. “We don’t have to tell anyone, right?”
She smiled. “It’ll be our secret.” But then her smile faded because she wasn’t good at secrets.
Or maybe she was too good at them . . . “I’m not helpless,” she said. “I want you to know that.”
“I do know it.” He paused, looking a little irritated again. “Mostly.”
“Good,” she said. “Now that’s settled, you should know, the caveman thing you just pulled . . . it turned me on a little bit.”
He slid her a look. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Looking a little less like he was spoiling for a fight, his hands went to her hips and he pulled her in tighter.
What the hell was she doing? Clearly, she wasn’t equipped to stay strong, and who could? The guy was just too damn potent. Too visceral. Testosterone and pheromones leaked off of him. She dropped her head to his chest. “Ugh. You’re being . . . you.”
“Was that in English?”
“This is all your fault.”
“Nope. Definitely not English.”
“You’re being all hot and sexy, dammit,” she said. She banged her head on his chest a few times. “And I can’t seem to . . . not notice said hotness and sexiness.”
He smiled. “You want me again.”
Again. Still . . . She tossed up her hands. “You wear your stupid sexiness on your sleeve and you don’t even know it.”
― Jill Shalvis, Sweet Little Lies

“MEET AT HAWKE’S HOUSE. HE’S BRINGING VICTORIA HOME AND ASKED US TO CLEAN HIS PIGSTY. MUST BE SPOTLESS IN NEXT 30 MIN. BRING YOUR OWN HAZMAT GEAR.”
― Pamela Clare, Slow Burn

“Heart of my heart, you need no man to give you away. Just come to me of your own free will. Love me for who I am... just as I love you for who you are... and our bond will last until the stars lose their shining.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne