Olivia Maagøe

“I'm making a list of things that make you agreeable."
I scoffed, pushing my foot into his leg. "And all you got is sex and vacations?"
"The length of the list is not my fault."
"Are you saying I'm disagreeable?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Woman, how stupid do you think I am? You really think I'm answering that? I want to get laid tonight?"
I pushed him harder. "Watch it, or you might get laid to rest."
Braden threw his head back and laughed.”
― Samantha Young, On Dublin Street

“Asshole.” “Just for that, I expect you to wrap that dirty mouth of yours around my cock tonight.” He narrowed his eyes on me.

I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me in a fancy restaurant where anyone might overhear. “Are you kidding?” “Babe,” he gave me a look that suggested I was missing the obvious, “I never kid about blowjobs.”

Our waiter had descended on us just in time to hear those romantic words and his rosy cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “Ready to order?” he croaked out.“Yes,” Braden answered, obviously uncaring he’d been overhead. “I’ll have the steak, medium-rare.” He smiled softly at me. “What are you having?” He took a swig of water. He thought he was so cool and funny. “Apparently sausage.” Braden choked on the water, coughing into his fists, his eyes bright with mirth as he put his glass back on the table. “Are you okay, sir?” The waiter asked anxiously. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
― Samantha Young, On Dublin Street

“This flirting is all well and good, but I mean it when I tell you, I cant have you leaving me again. It almost broke me."
My ribs seemed to squeeze all of the air out of my lungs at the thought. "I don't think I could. I don't want to be away from you again either."
"But you need to give me a chance to fix things when I screw up. You know I'm an ass sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
Growling, he whispered, "And I tear lingerie."
I pushed a curl off his forehead, "And hoard it. Don't forget the creepy hoarding.”
― Christina Lauren, Beautiful Bastard

“You’re living off your parent’s money? At your age?” Oh no she didn’t. I took another drink and then smiled at her in warning as if to say, ‘don’t play this game with me, sweetheart, you won’t win.’

She didn’t heed the warning. “So they pay for everything? Doesn’t that make you feel guilty?”

Every fucking day. “Was it your money that bought those Louboutin’s… or Braden’s?”
― Samantha Young, On Dublin Street