Gentlemans Chest Quotes

A lot of guys in the prison think they're bad. Some of them are, but when it comes to being bad in every sense of the word, I have been bad before and I can play the role pretty good. When I killed those people, they didn't exactly stand there and not do anything. I stabbed that guy [Frykowski] fifty-one times in the chest. I stabbed him so many times in the chest that my hand was sinking into it up to my elbow. I stabbed him so hard that the handle of the knife broke off. These people don't know what bad is. I wrote the book on bad and I did it more than once. ~ Tex Watson

I'm talking about your lovely long arms and your perfectly shaped legs... I find I am quite jealous of those stockings for knowing the feel of you, the warmth of you." She shifted, unable to keep still beneath the onslaught of his words. "I'm talking about that corset that hugs you where you are lovely and soft... is it uncomfortable?"
She hesitated. "Not usually."
"And now?" She heard the knowledge in the question.
She nodded once. "It's rather- constricting."
He tutted once, and she opened her eyes, instantly meeting his, hot and focused on her. "Poor Pippa. Tell me, with your knowledge of the human body, why do you think that is?"
She swallowed, tried for a deep breath. Failed. "It's because my heart is threatening to beat out of my chest."
The smile again. "Have you overexerted yourself?"
She shook her head. "No."
"What, then?"
She was not a fool. He was pushing her. Attempting to see how far she would go. She told the truth. "I think it is you."
He closed his eyes then, hands fisting again, and pressed his head back against the side of the desk, exposing the long column of his neck and his tightly clenched jaw. Her mouth went dry at the movement, at the way the tendons there bunched and rippled, and she was quite desperate to touch him.
When he returned his gaze to hers, there was something wild in those pewter depths... something she was at once consumed and terrified by. "You shouldn't be so quick with the truth," ~ Sarah MacLean

I wanna fuck you. I had a rethink, took some time, and I really wanna fuck you, okay? As long as you keep this shit quiet, we could have a, you know, mutually optimal situation here."
Zak frowned, slowly moving his eyes down the massive chest, the package at the front of Stitch's jeans, his firm legs. It was an attractive prospect. "Why do you think I'd want that after what you did earlier? Are you mad?"
For the first time Zak saw real confusion on Stitch's face. "But you're a - you're gay, you said it yourself."
Zak eyed him, startled. This guy had no idea how the world worked, apparently. "You might have noticed that I am also pretty hot. I don't need to settle on whatever someone throws my way. If you want me, you need to convince me why should I want you. ~ K.A. Merikan

Then suddenly Percy was next to her, lacing his fingers in hers. He turned her gently away from the pit and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest and broke down in tears. "It's okay," he said. "We're together." He didn't say you're okay, or we're alive. After all they'd been through over the last year, he knew the most important thing was that they were together. She loved him for saying that. Their friends gathered around them. Nico di Angelo was there, but Annabeth's thoughts were so fuzzy, this didn't seem surprising to her. It seemed only right that he would be with them. "Your leg." Piper knelt next to her and examined the Bubble Wrap cast. "Oh, Annabeth, what happened?" She started to explain. Talking was difficult, but as she went along, her words came more easily. Percy didn't let go of her hand, which also made her feel more confident. When she finished, her friends' faces were slack with amazement. "Gods of Olympus," Jason said. "You did all that ~ Rick Riordan

Bryn chuckled low in his chest. "I swear I've had dreams about you that began like this."
I stopped kissing him and raised my eyebrows. "Oh yeah, and how'd those dreams end up?"
He chuckled again, tugging at my robe. "I'm a guy, how do you think they ended up? ~ D.T. Dyllin

You are not movin' onto another guy," he crossed his arms on his chest and finished, "Ever." "That choice is not yours." "Yeah it is," he returned swiftly. "You can't give away what's mine." "You aren't getting this, Chace, but just now, I took it back." "Can't take back what's mine either. ~ Kristen Ashley

Cole tilted her chin so he could look deeply into her eyes. "Kyle, you are my heaven. Will you come with me?"
"I will." Kyle snuggled deeper into his chest, gently tracing his Sorry tattoo.
Cole's heart beat like the pounding of an angel's wings. ~ Debra Anastasia

My mother, for example, told the German officer not to kill her. She'd make it worth his while. And then, when they were doing it, she pulled a knife out of her belt and sliced open his chest, just like she used to open chicken breasts to stuff with rice for the Sabbath meal. ~ Etgar Keret

Uncle," she said. "Let me explain what will happen the instant one of your men makes a move toward me. Let's say, for instance, one of your archers lets an arrow fly. You've not come to many of my practices, Uncle. You haven't seen me dodge arrows; but your archers have. If one or your archers releases an arrow, I'll drop to the floor. The arrow will doubtless hit one of your guards. The sword and the dagger of that guard will be in my hands before anyone in the room has time to realize what's happened. A fight will break out with the guards; but only seven or eight of them can surround me at once, Uncle, and seven or eight is nothing to me. As I kill the guards I'll take their daggers and begin throwing them into the hearts of your archers, who of course will have no sighting on me once the brawl with the guards has broken out. I'll get out of the room alive, Uncle, but most of the rest of you will be dead. Of course, this is only what will happen if I wait for one of your men to make a move. I could move first. I could attack a guard, steal his dagger, and hurl it into your chest this instant. ~ Kristin Cashore

The logical part of my brain reminds me that I barely know her, that she isn't my responsibility. But the Neanderthal part beats its chest, ready to threaten anyone who dares threaten her. (Henry) ~ C.M. Seabrook

t was beautiful, being there with Elliott. It was like there was nothing except him and me. I remember his palms, his chest, his chin, but it was like we were more than just our bodies. As if our essence was there in the darkness. ~ Jaclyn Moriarty

Once, long ago, Francis Crawford had reduced her to terror and, the episode over, she had suffered to find that for Kate, apparently, no reason suggested itself against making that same Francis Crawford her friend. He was not Philippa's friend. She had made that clear, and, to be fair, he had respected it. He had even, when you thought of it, curtailed his visits to Kate, although Kate's studied lack of comment on this served only to make Philippa angrier. He had been nasty at Boghall. He had hit her at Liddel Keep. He had stopped her going anywhere for weeks. He had saved her life. That was indisputable. He had been effective over poor Trotty Luckup, while she had been pretty rude, and he hadn't forced himself on her; and he had made her warm with his cloak. He had gone to Liddel Keep expressly to warn her, and when she had been pig-headed about leaving (Kate was right) he had done the only thing possible to make her. And then he had come to Flaw Valleys for nothing but to make sure of her safety, and he had been so tired that Kate had cried after he had gone. And then it had suddenly struck her, firmly and deeply in her shamefully flat chest, so that her heart thumped and her eyes filled with tears, that maybe she was wrong. Put together everything you knew of Francis Crawford. Put together what you had heard at Boghall and at Midculter, what you had seen at Flaw Valleys, and it all added up to one enormous, soul-crushing entity. She had been wrong. She did not understand h ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Her heart did not want to give up this burden, painful though it was ... The crushing pain in her chest was all she had to tie her to them until they were together again. ~ Rosslyn Elliott

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, ~ Angie Frazier

With his chin dropped to his chest, he was staring at her from under his brows, his pale yellow eyes glowing as they locked on her and her alone.
Her first cogent thought was that he was a predator.
Her second… was that she wanted to be caught. ~ J.R. Ward

Judge sucked harder, starting a fast rhythm. Michaels couldn't help but close his eyes and pant through the exhilaration. As soon as Judge slipped his thick digit deep inside him, Michaels yelled out his bliss, not caring who could hear him. "Judge! Fuck!" That finger shoved in as deep as he could get it and Michaels' come exploded up his shaft, shooting onto his chest. Judge growled, rubbing Michaels' seed into his skin. Aggressively massaging the pearly liquid into his strained pecs. He ~ A.E. Via

Her arms slid around my back and I heard the softest moan in my ear as she snuggled into my chest. Her mouth pressed to my neck, not kissing, just ... there. On me.
Dammity-damn-damn-damn. ~ Ophelia London

Imagine that you yourself are building the edifice of human destiny with the object of making people happy in the finale, of giving them peace and rest at last, but for that you must inevitably and unavoidably torture just one tiny creature, that same child who was beating her chest with her little fist, and raise your edifice on the foundation of her unrequited tears
would you agree to be the architect on such conditions? ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I can't wait to taste you." He whispered against my stomach, allowing his hot breath to spill over my chest, sharpen the goose bumps pricking my skin. "I've always wondered what you taste like." I could tell he was speaking mostly to himself, but his words drove me a lot insane. ~ Penny Reid

I crossed my arms over my chest. Jeez, it was cold in here all of a sudden. And had he always smelled this good? Was it a cologne? Eau de Christmas Pie? ~ Lili St. Crow

Reacher said, So here's the thing Brett. Either you take your hand off my chest, or I'll take it off your wrist. ~ Lee Child

He'd reached the door, then stopped for a moment, looking back at Elinor, staring at her.
"Master Francis..." Mrs. Clarke said in a warning tone.
"I just wanted to take a last glance at her exquisite feet before you covered them up again. It might be a while before I see them again."
"It will be never," Elinor said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Don't count on it, my pet. Whatever scurrilous lies Mrs. Clarke spreads about my so-called goodness, she'll have to admit that I always get what I want. ~ Anne Stuart

That animal is not your possession. He doesn't exist for your amusement. He has needs, instincts. Urges."
The way he said that word, in that deep, earthy growl, had chills rippling over her skin.
She swallowed hard. "Urges?"
"Yes. Urges." He sauntered toward her- as much as a man could saunter in knee-deep water. "But what could a lady like you know about those?"
"Oh, I understand urges. Right now, I have the powerful urge to do this."
She shoved him hard in the chest, hoping to send him flailing backward into the river.
He didn't budge. Not a teeter. Not a totter.
Not even a blink.
Penny would not surrender. She took a step in reverse and then tried again, adding the weight of her body to the effort.
This time, he was ready for her. He caught her wrists in his hands, stopping her before she could even make contact.
"Now, now, Your Ladyship. This is most unbecoming behavior."
"I know that." She clenched her hands into fists. "You are so maddening. You have a way of provoking me, unlike anyone I've ever known. It's as though I become a different person when I'm around you, and I'm not certain I like her."
He pulled her to him. "I like her."
Penny expected he would shortly ruin that statement.
I like her- smoldering pause- potential to increase the return on my property investment.
Not this time.
Instead, he lowered his head until his mouth brushed hers.
Teased her lips apart, until his tongue ~ Tessa Dare

I don't. Of course I don't. Despite the fairy-tale snowstorm out there, this isn't Narnia. This is London, real life, where hearts get kicked and bruised and broken, but somehow they still keep beating. I watch him recede as the taxi lurches cautiously away, and he watches me too, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders bunched against the wind. I lay my head against the cold glass as we turn the corner, my heart and my conscience lead heavy in my chest.

I wish I'd never laid eyes on Jack O'Mara. ~ Josie Silver

We get on well and it won't be too much trouble spending so much time with him. He has a strange way of sleeping as he likes to kick off all the blankets and just have them up by his chest. ~ Robbie Keane

Now on to politics. What's the deal, guys? Seriously. I mean, come on. Get it together. It's like, when are we going to wake up? It's all crazy. Who's with me. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. ~ Amy Poehler

She'd always thought that a broken heart sounded rather romantic. But in truth it was physical. Her whole chest ached, as if she'd been struck with a knife. With all her witless calculations about how to make a man desire her, she'd never realized that the most important thing was to make him like her. Or even love her. What a fool she was. ~ Eloisa James

What did you wish for?" I ask.
"If I tell you, It won't come true."
"Hmm..." A sudden, hard rush of longing fills my chest. I nuzzle her ear with my nose, like I'm about to tell her a secret. "Then how will I make it come true? ~ Clara Stone

Who's your friend?"
I practically leaped into the air and spun around to see that Kate had walked up behind me. I slapped the back of my hand against Marcus's chest, hard enough to force him back a step. "This is Marcus. Ignore him. He's a bad seed."
As she checked him out, that growing smile of hers told me she was up to no good. She held out a hand for him to take. "Hi. I'm Kate. I'm a bad seed, too. ~ Courtney Allison Moulton

I'm sorry, Genna," he said. "Really, I am. I didn't want to hurt you." "You didn't," she said, backing away from him as she tried to ignore the pain nagging her chest that suggested otherwise. Man, it did hurt. It hurt like a son of a bitch. "I'm just disappointed, Jackson. ~ J.M. Darhower

Cash leaned forward against her hand and Harper met him halfway. The kiss was powerful and demanding. Harper wrapped her arms around Cash, feeling his heartbeat against her chest. The kiss was more aggressive than either of them meant it to be, and, when they pulled apart, they were both breathing fast, like they had sprinted toward each other.
"I've been waiting a long time to do that," Cash said, out of breath.
"Eight years," Harper murmured.
"My whole life," Cash corrected, leaning in again. ~ Summer Hines

The ache starts in my chest and spreads through my veins. The abuse I can handle; it's the happiness that cripples. ~ Laura Wiess

I can see her, chin to chest, straining to push Junior out, and Junior snagging on her insides, grabbing hold of what he caught on to try to stay inside her, but instead he pulled it out with him when he was born. ~ Jesmyn Ward

Like a lot of fellows around here, I have a furniture problem. My chest has fallen into my drawers. ~ Billy Casper

The unfamiliar feeling surfaces, swelling in my chest, unnamed and dangerous. ~ E.L. James

David furrowed his brow. "I ... I don't understand half of what goes on around me. I don't get jokes or sunsets or poetry, but I know metal." His fingers flexed unconsciously as if he were physically grasping for words. "Beauty was your armor. Fragile stuff, all show. But what's inside you? That's steel. It's brave and unbreakable. And it doesn't need fixing." He drew in a deep breath then awkwardly stepped forward. He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
Genya went regid. I thought she'd push him away. But then she threw her arms around him and kissed him back. Emphatically.
Mal cleared his throat, and Tamar gave a low whistle. I had to bite my lip to stifle a nervous laugh.
They broke apart. David was blushing furiously. Genya's grin was so dazzling it made my heart twist in my chest. ~ Leigh Bardugo

What are you so afraid will happen? Afraid you might start to like me?"
He said nothing.
Despite her fatigue, she trotted ahead of him. "That's it, isn't it? You don't want to like a Grisha. You're scared that if you laugh at my jokes or answer my questions, you might start thinking I'm human. Would that be so terrible?"
"I do like you."
"What was that?"
"I do like you," he said angrily.
She'd beamed, feeling a well of pleasure erupt through her. "Now, really, is that so bad?"
"Yes!" he roared.
"Why?"
"Because you're horrible. You're loud and lewd and . . . treacherous. Brum warned us that Grisha could be charming."
"Oh, I see. I'm the wicked Grisha seductress. I have beguiled you with my Grisha wiles!"
She poked him in the chest.
"Stop that."
"No. I'm beguiling you."
"Quit it."
She danced around him in the snow, poking his chest, his stomach, his side. "Goodness! You're very solid. This is strenuous work." He started to laugh. "It's working! The beguiling has begun. The Fjerdan has fallen. You are powerless to resist me. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Love is . . ." An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when he'd been gone less than a day, but I couldn't get him or the ways he described love out of my head. ". . . a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winter's night. A star that guides you home. ~ Richelle Mead

Vergil waited no longer. He took Boris's sword and plunged it into his chest. Boris went limp gently, as if he were drifting into a nap. Vergil held on to the sword for a second, and then pulled it out of the fallen angel, clutching it with fervor. Sadly, I realized that this wouldn't be the last time great force would have to be used against my fellow angels. I had no words for the rest of them in the Fellowship Hall. My optimism was very low and I saw no sign of the situation getting better. God's angelic host was divided. My friends, scattered. Lucifer's army was intimidating and many of his soldiers were dispersed among us, ready to strike at our most vulnerable moments. I myself was unsure how we were going to succeed. But one thing I did know - we all needed to pray. Unlike Lucifer, I needed God in my life. ~ Julius St. Clair

Piercings in his ears, nose and lip revealed his edgy nature. He was casual in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his well-muscled chest in all of the right places. His eyes were a deep, drowning blue. His hair was slightly spiky and bedroom messy with just a hint of the early Elvis style. To say that I found him attractive would be putting it lightly. He was absolutely gorgeous. ~ Trina M. Lee