Pajama Quotes

Blood pressure check!" The doorknob rattled, as if the nurse were intending just to walk in, but the lock held, thank God. The nurse knocked again.
"Oh, shit," Gina breathed, laughing as she scrambled off of him. She reached to remove the condom they'd just used, encountered . . . him, and met his eyes. But then she scooped her clothes off the floor and ran into the bathroom.
"Mr. Bhagat?" The nurse knocked on the door again. Even louder this time. "Are you all right?"
Oh, shit, indeed. "Come in," Max called as he pulled up the blanket and leaned on the button that put his bed back up into a sitting position. The same control device had a "call nurse" button as well as the clearly marked one that would unlock the door.
"It's locked," the nurse called back, as well he knew.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, as he wiped off his face with the edge of the sheet. Sweat much in bed, all alone, Mr. Bhagat? "I must've . . . Here, let me figure out how to . . ." He took an extra second to smooth his hair, his pajama top, and then, praying that the nurse had a cold and couldn't smell the scent of sex that lingered in the air, he hit the release.
"Please don't lock your door during the day," the woman scolded him as she came into the room, around to the side of his bed. It was Debra Forsythe, a woman around his age, whom Max had met briefly at his check-in. She had been on her way home to deal with some crisis with her kids, and hadn't been happy then, either. "And ~ Suzanne Brockmann

The ten-year-old shifter wore long flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt, his blond hair sticking up everywhere in the most adorable way. "No, I'm thirsty. I didn't mean to both you --"
"You're not bothering us," Teresa interjected. Ryan didn't seem to want to let her go, but she didn't care. She needed distance from this male if she wanted to think straight. "I just stopped by to ..." Her brain chose that moment to malfunction. She couldn't even think of a decent lie.
"To kiss Ryan?" the boy asked, all innocence. ~ Katie Reus

I sprinkle some flour on the dough and roll it out with the heavy, wooden rolling pin. Once it's the perfect size and thickness, I flip the rolling pin around and sing into the handle - American Idol style.

"Calling Gloriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa . . ."

And then I turn around.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Without thinking, I bend my arm and throw the rolling pin like a tomahawk . . . straight at the head of the guy who's standing just inside the kitchen door.

The guy I didn't hear come in.

The guy who catches the hurling rolling pin without flinching - one-handed and cool as a gorgeous cucumber - just an inch from his perfect face.

He tilts his head to the left, looking around the rolling pin to meet my eyes with his soulful brown ones. "Nice toss."

Logan St. James.

Bodyguard. Totally badass. Sexiest guy I have ever seen - and that includes books, movies and TV, foreign and domestic. He's the perfect combo of boyishly could-go-to-my-school kind of handsome, mixed with dangerously hot and tantalizingly mysterious. If comic-book Superman, James Dean, Jason Bourne and some guy with the smoothest, most perfectly pitched, British-Scottish-esque, Wessconian-accented voice all melded together into one person, they would make Logan fucking St. James.

And I just tried to clock him with a baking tool - while wearing my Rick and Morty pajama short-shorts, a Winnie-the-Pooh T-shirt I've had sinc ~ Emma Chase

Cowgirl Interlude (Bonanza Jellybean)
She is lying on the family sofa in flannel pajamas. There is Kansas City mud on the tips and heels of her boots, boots that have yet to savor real manure. Fourteen, she knows she ought to remove her boots, yet she refuses. A Maverick rerun is on TV; she is eating beef jerky, occasionally slurping. On her upper stomach, where her pajama top has ridden up, is a small deep scar. She tells everyone, including her school nurse, that it was made by a silver bullet.
Whatever the origin of the extra hole in her belly, there are unmistakable signs of gunfire int he woodwork by the closet door. It was there that she once shot up one half of an old pair of sneakers. "Self-defense," she pleaded, when her parents complained. "It was a [sic] out-law tennis shoe.
Billy the Ked. ~ Tom Robbins

I loved the movies and I loved cartoon superheroes - superheroes in general. I had all the pajama costumes and I would wear my underwear on the outside of the pajamas because that's what Superman does. ~ Dane DeHaan

Mama, Ollie taught me how to play 'Let It Go' on guitar," Crista piped up in a muffled voice as she pulled her pajama shirt over her head. Aunt Linda shot me a look that was half sheer terror, half witch hunt. The face of someone at peak Frozen saturation. I didn't, I swear, I mouthed, making chopping motions by my neck. ~ Sophie Gonzales

You looked like you wanted to jump his bones right there!"
"Jump his bones?" Sadie frowns. "What do you mean?"
... "It's like a pajama party. Except you take off your pajamas."
"Oh that." Her face clicks with recognition. You call it 'jumping his bones'?"
"Sometimes." I shrug.
"What an odd phrase. We used to call it sex."
"Oh." I say, discomfited. "Well we do too-"
"Or barney-mugging," she adds. ~ Sophie Kinsella

And where did you get the pajama set? A thrift store?' Another sniff. 'You smell of homelessness. Back the f*ck off. I hear it can be catching. ~ Scarlett Dawn

Even more confused than before, I started backing up. I'd go around and get in through the kitchen; David and Raquel had to know what was going on. Unfortunately for all of us, that was when Lend came out the front door, immediately collapsed with a thunk that made me cringe, and - perfect - went completely transparent.
The police officers stopped fighting, every eye glued on my boyfriend, now essentially invisible other than this T-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
"Okay," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "No. This is unacceptable. I don't care what the bleep is going on, we're going to get it settled immediately or I swear I will give you all to the Dark Queen and let her feed on your dreams for the rest of eternity."
Every head turned my direction, their faces a portrait of shock and disbelief.
"What, you've never seen a boy made of water before? Yawn. Go down to the pond - it'll really blow your mind."
One close to the front - barrel-chested, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache - shook his head as though trying to clear it. "Are you Evelyn Green?"
"Sort of. Mostly. I mean, legally. Again, sort of."
He tried to look at me, but his eyes kept drifting back to Lend. "You're under - We're here to - Could you please come with us?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, I couldn't. You're last place in a very long line of people who want me right now. Besides, I haven't done anything."
"Actually," said a painfully tall an ~ Kiersten White

Stormy, tell me about where you were when John F. Kennedy died."
"It was a Friday. I was baking a pineapple upside-down cake for my bridge club. I put it in the oven and then I saw the news and forgot all about the cake and nearly burned the house down. We had to have the kitchen repainted because of all the soot." She fusses with her hair. "He was a saint, that man. A prince. If I'd met him in my heyday, we really could've had some fun. You know, I flirted with a Kennedy once at an airport. He sidled up to me at the bar and bought me a very dry gin martini. Airports used to be so very much more glamorous. People got dressed up to travel. Young people on airplanes these days, they wear those horrible sheepskin boots and pajama pants and it's an eyesore. I wouldn't go out for the mail dressed like that."
"Which Kennedy?" I ask.
"Hmm? Oh, I don't know. He had the Kennedy chin, anyway."
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Stormy and her escapades. ~ Jenny Han

There should be a law that there's a pajama day every few weeks. ~ Alyson Hannigan

People automatically estimate a mom's IQ at around her children's ages, maybe dividing by the number of kids, rounding up to the nearest pajama size. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

In the hall, Tina whisper hisses, "Retreat! Retreat!" The sounds of heels clip clopping follows before...
stumble crash bang
Mimi laughs her ass off and says, "We have a man down! I repeat. We are a man down!"
Lola laughs hard and yells out, "We're so bad at this! Best mission ever!
The sound of giggles and heels approach my room. I put an arm under my head to elevate it. I want to see what these goofballs are doing. Tina's first through the door and looks sheepish while rubbing her elbow. That is until she see Nat, Helena and Nina all sitting on my bed. Then she yells out, "Pajama party!" And literally throws herself on to my bed, hurt elbow forgotten. She belly flops onto my stomach, My body jolts upwards, the wind is knocked out of me and I groan. Tina looks up at me with wide eyes. She rushed out, "Ash, honey! I'm so sorry!" Then she rubs what she thinks is my stomach. Only its my cock.
Removing her hands from me, I tell her,
"Tina, I don't think Nik would like you in my bed rubbing my junk. ~ Belle Aurora

My mouth opened as did the door behind us. Stomach dropping, I turned to see Mom standing there in all her fuzzy-bunny pajama glory. Oh for the love of God. Her eyes went from me to Daemon, completely misinterpreting everything. The glee in her eyes made me want to vomit on Daemon's head. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Oggie sat facing us in a threadbare blazer and pajama bottoms, as if he'd been expecting company
just not pants-worthy company
... ~ Ransom Riggs

I keep staring at the bag in Mrs. Parks's hand: yellows, greens, blues, whites, pastel colors so soft they look as if they have faded in the sea. The washed colors of the sea and sleep. Pajama colors. The colors of baby clothes. In my nose is the smell of my brothers' heads after they are born. Maybe this is why people making journeys buy saltwater taffy. It gives you the lovely dreamy sense that you can start all over again from the beginning. ~ Polly Horvath

For a moment, I pretended. Not that we weren't two different species, because I didn't see him that way, but that we actually liked each other.

And then he shifted and rolled. I was on my back, and he was still on the move. His face burrowed into the space between my neck and shoulder, nuzzling. Sweet baby Jesus...Warm breath danced over my skin, sending shivers down my body. His arm was heavy against my stomach, his leg between mine, pushing up and up. Scorched air fled my lungs.

Daemon murmured in a language I couldn't understand. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful and soft. Magical. Unearthly.

I could've woken him up but for some reason I didn't. The thrill of him touching me was far stronger than anything else.

His hand was on the edge of the borrowed shirt, his long fingers on the strip of exposed flesh between the hem on the shirt and the band of the worn pajama bottoms. And his hand inched up under the shirt, across my stomach, where it dipped slightly. My pulse went into cardiac territory. The tips of his fingers brushed my ribs. His body moved, his knee pressed against me.

I gasped.

Daemon stilled. No one moved. The clock on the wall ticked.

And I cringed. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

She was wearing one of my pajama suits, and had the sleeves rolled up. When she laughed I wanted her again. A moment later she asked me if I loved her. I said that sort of question had no meaning, really; but I supposed I didn't. She looked sad for a bit, but when we were getting our lunch ready she brightened up and started laughing and when she laughs I always want to kiss her. ~ Albert Camus

From: [email protected]
Sent: Saturday, June 8, 2013 1:18 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: what happy looks like
Sunrises over the harbor. Ice cream on a hot day. The sound of the waves down the street. The way my dog curls up next to me on the couch. Evening strolls. Great movies. Thunderstorms. A good cheeseburger. Fridays. Saturdays. Wednesdays, even. Sticking your toes in the water. Pajama pants. Flip-flops. Swimming. Poetry. The absence of smiley faces in an e-mail.

What does it look like to you? ~ Jennifer E. Smith

He pulled out handcuffs and snapped them around my wrists. "Where's your bag? You didn't bring your staff?"
"I have it. It's hidden." Charlie was currently tucked inside the leg of my Harry Potter pajama bottoms, which were beneath my jeans, but that fell under the category of TMI. ~ Suzanne Johnson

Knight was walking to me; dark gray, drawstring pajama bottoms on, long-ish hair sexy messy from sleep, chest with its enticing array of dark hair bared, eyes on me. ~ Kristen Ashley

Mr. Blank's old friend is acting up again, and because our hero is no longer wearing the cotton trousers and underpants and is quite naked under the pajama bottoms, there is no barrier to prevent Mr. Bigshot from bounding out through the slit and poking his head into the light of day. ~ Paul Auster

She had scooped Lydia up and smoothed her hair and told her how clever she was, how proud her father would be when he came home. But she'd felt as if she'd found a locked door in a familiar room: Lydia, still small enough to cradle, had secrets. Marilyn might feed her and bathe her and coax her legs into pajama pants, but already parts of her life were curtained off. She kissed Lydia's cheek and pulled her close, trying to warm herself against her daughter's small body. ~ Celeste Ng

Green leaned his head back, wanting everything Ruxs was going to do to him. "Upstairs. Get the fuck upstairs, Mark. We can't do it right here. What if Curtis comes downstairs?" Green panted. Thank god some portion of his brain was still working. "Oh shit. You're right." Ruxs chuckled softly, rubbing his hand up and down Green's body. "You're so goddamn beautiful, I can't think straight when I see you. You can't be walking around in a fuckin' silk robe, nothing but this soft material between me and your naked body." He squeezed Green's ass, thrust against him a couple more times before he dropped Green's robe back down and pulled his pajama pants back over his ass. "Go ~ A.E. Via

When I was a 25-year-old kid, I raised $260,000 for my first show, 'The Pajama Game,' in such a homemade, pathetic, endearing way - a buck here, a buck there. ~ Harold Prince

That night, while you were asleep, I unbuttoned your pajama jacket and looked at what he'd done to you. Afterward, I drove back to his house and very nearly killed him. If he hadn't started crying and begging me to stop, I…" He let out the angry breath. "That was when I realized how I felt about you," he added, his eyes meeting hers. "A man wants to protect what he considers his own. It started then, that night."
She was surprised by what he was telling her. "You…looked at me?"
He nodded. His eyes narrowed. "You had the most beautiful little breasts," he said roughly. "And they were covered with bruises. I wanted to kiss the bruises, take you into my bed and hold you, just hold you, all night long so that you'd be safe. I didn't dare give in to the impulse, of course," he added with the first touch of amusement he'd shown since her arrival. "My mother would have horsewhipped me."
She felt waves of surprised pleasure lance through her body. "I never knew."
"I was always known for my poker face," he murmured. "But it was sheer agony to be around you. The older you got, the worse it was. It was inevitable that one day I'd go mad and take you." He sighed. "The most hellish part of the whole thing was knowing that all I had to do was touch you and you'd let me do anything I liked to you."
She traced the mouth of her coffee cup. "I loved you," she said quietly.
"I know."
There was a world of pain in the words. She looked up into his black eyes and ~ Diana Palmer

I'm not leaving, Kitten. You're going to do this.
My mouth opened as did the door behind us. Stomach dropping, I turned to see Mom standing there in all her fuzzy-bunny pajama glory. Oh, for the love of God. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Morning breath here. 'A dirty mouth you say,' clean it up with Orbit." Maya chuckled. "Unless you have gum, I'm not letting you near me." She reached for a pillow and plopped it over her face.
"Ha-ha! Good one. No gum on me, but I'll settle for kissing your belly." Alex whisked her pajama top up and knelt down to kiss the roundest part of her tummy. ~ Melisa M. Hamling

I have a better idea since you're being a hard ass about it all. I'm in the mood for something more satisfying than carrots or an apple anyway." Avery bumped into Kane as he exited his closet, pulling a T-shirt over his head. His mister's nightly wardrobe always consisted of a soft cotton shirt and pajama bottoms, which he promptly removed before he crawled into their bed. Avery slid his hands up Kane's chest, keeping Kane from pulling the cotton material down the rest of the way, and leaned in, swiping his tongue across the exposed nipple. ~ Kindle Alexander

My mom's coming home soon," I said. "We should go to your place."
Patch ran a hand across the shadow of stubble along his jaw. "I have rules about who I take there." I was getting really tired of that answer.
"If you showed me, you'd have to kill me?" I guessed, fighting the urge to feel irritated. "Once I'm inside, I can never leave?"
Patch studied me a moment. Then he reached into his pocket, twisted a key off his key chain, and slipped it into the front pocket of my pajama top. "Once you've gone inside, you have to keep coming back. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

His back was to me and he was wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. His shoulders, the smooth muscles of his back, the wide expanse of smooth, tan skin, was all exposed to the naked eye and I was blinded by the beauty of it. So much, it was a wonder I didn't throw out my hand reeling.
At that thought, he turned and gave me a view of his chest.
At this view, arguably better than his back, I sucked in a breath then whispered to myself, Oh my God. ~ Kristen Ashley

Sometimes I'm so tired, I look down at what I'm wearing, and if it's comfortable enough to sleep in, I don't even make it into my pajamas. I'm looking down, and I'm like, 'T-shirt and stretchy pants? Yup, that's fine. It's pajama-y, good night.' ~ Rebecca Romijn

President Obama's biggest advocates believe that Americans are ready to embrace his vision for the United States: a less muscular America on the world stage, an America with a more controlling executive branch and less conflict in the legislative branch, an America in which the government takes care of us, be we Pajama Boys or Julias. ~ Ben Shapiro

I just wondered where you - " Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."
"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had no idea what he'd walked in on, knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he didn't care - at this moment he hated everything about Ron, right down to the several inches of bare ankle showing beneath his pajama trousers. ~ J.K. Rowling

I had a few pricks of conscience- seeing Henry's pajama bottoms hanging forlornly from a peg in our bedroom, his comb on he dresser, a stray white hair on his pillow- but real shame and regret were absent. In their place was a riotous sense of wonder. I'd never imagined myself capable of either great boldness or great passion, and the discovery that I had reservoirs of both astounded me. ~ Hillary Jordan

He took a quick breath and reached down, his hand sliding over my pajama bottoms as he coaxed my hips high and tight. The full-on pressure of him was stunning, galvanic. He was unbelievably hard. Everywhere. He was in control, infinitely stronger, and he wanted me to know it.
-Ella's thoughts about Jack ~ Lisa Kleypas

[Piper] rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered - all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch.
Frank's Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel's hair was all blown to one side as though she'd walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking. ~ Rick Riordan

My favorite pajama patterns are as follows: 1. Mt. Fuji
2. A hawk
3. An eggplant! ~ Ryo Akizuki

I didn't think much of men's pajamas, ever. Only Max could make pajamas, even every day, normal pajama bottoms and a t-shirt like the ones he was wearing, look so darned good. ~ Kristen Ashley

In the end he realizes there's only one thing to do. He grabs her under the arms and drags her towards the stairs. By the time he gets her there, her pajama pants have slid down, revealing what she sometimes calls (called, he reminds himself) her winky. Once, when he was in bed with her, and she was giving him relief for a particularly bad headache, he tried to touch her winky and she slapped his hand away. Hard. Don't you ever, she had said. That's where you came from. ~ Stephen King

I catch a sudden glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. It's the weirdest thing. My hair is unbrushed. I'm wearing what may actually be one of Nadine's maternity shirts. And pajama pants. And there's also a spot of toothpaste in the corner of my mouth.
But for the first time in maybe ever, I feel really beautiful. ~ Becky Albertalli

When I received the Culver Creek Handbook over the summer and noticed happily that the "Dress
Code" section contained only two words, casual modesty, it never occurred to me that girls would
show up for class half asleep in cotton pajama shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flops. Modest, I guess, and
casual. ~ John Green

He greeted me in his usual attire - pajama pants. "Hey stranger!" he said, hugging me for a few long seconds. "I've already set up the board. Can I get you some rose"
I nodded, overwhelmingly relieved to be with another human being - even if he was really a wolf in grandma's clothing. Or was he just a wolf in wolf's clothing? After all, he wore pajamas ... Hmmm. I contemplated all this as he poured me a glass of wine.
"Mind if I smoke?" he asked as he lit up a joint and motioned me over to the sleek brown couch. Italian, of course.
Through the three windows that faced south, north, and west, I saw the Statue of Liberty, and Ellis Island, where I had paid to have my parents' names inscribed in the immigrant wall of honor. Some American Dream this was! ~ Inna Swinton

SN: how's your day, Ms. Holmes?

Me: Not bad. Yours?

SN: good. been doing my homework in listicle form, because, you know, anything to make it more interesting.

Me: Do you think college will actually be better? For real?

SN: hope so. but then again, I just read about a guy who lost a ball in a frat hazing incident.

Me: Seriously? What is wrong with people?

SN: can you imagine wanting to be liked so badly that you'd give up one of your testicles?

Me: I can neither imagine having testicles nor giving one up.

SN: you won't let me use emojis, but an 'i heart my testes' one would be appropriate right about now.

Me: You know what I heart? Nutella. And pajama pants. And an awesomesauce book. Not necessarily in that order, but together.

SN: awesomesauce? 2012 texted and wants its word back. btw, do you eat the Nutella right out of the jar with a spoon?

Me: Used to. Now I share a kitchen with the Others, so I can't. Wanted to label it, but my dad said that would be rude. ~ Julie Buxbaum

Is this okay with you, Jenna? For him to stay here?"
"Yeah," I said. "It's good. You have no idea what it takes for him to ask for help."
I spent all evening in Alan's office, reading at his desk and keeping Cameron company. Mostly he slept, snoring lightly and once in a while murmuring unintelligible something into his pillow. I turned my chair so that I could look at him whenever I wanted, at his face or at the bare foot that stuck out from under the covers, or at his arm dangling off the side of the sofa bed.
Around eleven, when I was ready for bed, Cameron woke up. I brought him broth and crackers. "Hi," I said.
"Have you been here all this time?"
"Most of it."
Alan's beige pajamas looked small and uncomfortable on Cameron. "You don't have to," he said. "I can take care of myself." He reached for the broth. I watched him slurp straight from his bowl, everything about him becoming younger and more boyish by the second-rosy lips on the white rim of the bowl, wrists without enough pajama sleeve to cover them, cowlick hair and sleepy eyes.
"I know you can. But you don't have to."
"Well..." He finally looked at me. "Thanks. ~ Sara Zarr