Rubbing Quotes

How did you know? That she wasn't the one for him?" Now he's staring at his hands, slowing rubbing them together. "They just didn't have that ... natural magic. You know? It never seemed easy."
My voice grows tiny. "Do you think things have to be easy? For it to work?"
Cricket's head shoots up, his eyes bulging as they grasp my meaning. "NO. I mean, yes, but ... sometimes there are ... extenuating circumstances. That prevent it from being easy. For a while. But then people overcome those ... circumstances ... and ... "
"So you believe in second chances?" I bite my lip.
"Second, third, fourth. Whatever it takes. However long it takes. If the person is right," he adds.
If the person is ... Lola?"
This time, he holds my gaze. "Only if the other person is Cricket."
Chapter 27
Pg 273 ~ Stephanie Perkins

Puck swung the cannon around in anger. The nozzle spun and hit Sabrina in the chest. The force was so pawerful she was knocked right off the platform and fell backward off the tower. She saw sky above her and felt the wind in her hair. How ironic, she thought, as she fell to her certain death, that at that moment she would have given anything to be a giant goose again.
Air rushed past Sabrina's ears and suddenly she felt her back tingling again. A moment later she was hanging upside down, inches from the ground. She looked up to find her savior, only to find that her her wasn't a person but a long, furry tail sticking out of the back of her pants. It was wrapped around a beam in the tower a kept her swinging there like a monkey.
Puck floated down to her, his wings flapping softly enough to allow him to hover.
"I bet you think this is hilarious. Look what you did to me with your stupid pranks. I have a tail!" she raged.
Puck's face was trembling. "I'm sorry."
"What?" Sabrina said blankly.
"I almost killed you. I'm sorry, Sabrina," he said, rubbing his eyes on his filthy hoodie. He lifted her off the tower and set her on the ground.
"Since when do you care?" Sabrina said, still stunned by the boy's apology. ~ Michael Buckley

I'd love to direct commercials on Caribbean beacheswith luscious women rubbing on suntan lotion, but all I get arethese documentary-type things. ~ Michael Apted

Dogs live in the moment, and don't have a concept of past or future. That's why you must immediately correct your dog if it breaks the rules. The old trick of rubbing your puppy's face in his poop or urine is not effective - your dog will have no idea why it is being punished. ~ Tom Ester

The silence lengthened, becoming strained and awkward until it was broken by the goose's imperious honk.
Swift glanced at the massive bird. "You have a companion, I see."
When Daisy explained what the two boys had been doing with the goose, Swift grinned. "Clever lads."
The remark did not strike Daisy as being especially compassionate.
"I want to help him," she said. "But when I tried to get near, he pecked me. I expected a domestic breed would have been a bit more receptive to my approach."
"Greylags are not known for their mild temperaments," Swift informed her. "Particularly males. He was probably trying to show you who was boss."
"He proved his point," Daisy said, rubbing her arm.
Swift frowned as he saw the growing bruise on her arm. "Is that where he pecked you? Let me see."
"No, it's all right - " she began, but he had already come forward.
His long fingers encircled her wrist, the thumb of his other hand passing gently near the dark purple mark. "You bruise easily," he murmured, his dark head bent over her arm.
Daisy's heart dispensed a series of hard thumps before settling into a fast rhythm. He smelled like the outdoors - sun, water, grassy-sweet. And deeper in the fragrance lingered the tantalizing incense of warm, sweaty male. She fought the instinct to move into his arms, against his body…to pull his hand to her breast. The mute craving shocked her.
Glancing up at his downturned face, Daisy found h ~ Lisa Kleypas

So if we're all quarks and electrons ... " he begins.
What?"
We could make love and it would be nothing more than quarks and electrons rubbing together."
Better than that," I say. "Nothing really 'rubs together' in the microscopic world. Matter never really touches other matter, so we could make love without any of our atoms touching at all. Remember that electrons sit on the outside of atoms, repelling other electrons. So we could make love and actually repel each other at the same time. ~ Scarlett Thomas

Heal me? You're trying to heal me by rubbing your ... by rubbing against me?" Kat didn't even try to keep the skepticism out of her voice. "Yeah, right. ~ Evangeline Anderson

Leo!" Jason was shaking his shoulder. "Hey, man, why are you hugging Nike?"
Leo's eyes fluttered open. His arms were wrapped around the human-sized statue in Athena's hand. He must have been thrashing in his sleep. He clung to the victory goddess like he used to cling to his pillow when he had nightmares as a kid. (Man, that had been so embarrassing in the foster homes.)
He disentangled himself and sat up, rubbing his face.
"Nothing," he muttered. "We were just cuddling. ~ Rick Riordan

I came to California and got signed at a young age. And it's not like you see in the movies, where you start rubbing shoulders with Timbaland and Pharrell, and you become a giant pop star. ~ Bruno Mars

So what is it?" Angus asked, appearing at his brother's side and rubbing his hands together. In the dim light, his eyes seemed to glow. "Is it Hansel and Gretel?"
"Can't be," Hamish told him. "We only have the one grenade launcher."
"Right." Angus nodded as if Hamish had a most excellent point. ~ Ally Carter

Am I crazy?" she asked. "I feel like I am sometimes."
"Maybe," he said, rubbing her forehead. "But don't worry about it. You need to be a little bit crazy. Crazy is the price you pay for having an imagination. It's your superpower. Tapping into the dream. It's a good thing not a bad thing. ~ Ruth Ozeki

The undeniable feeling that, as you castigate a troll, he's rubbing his Red Dwarf mouse pad against his crotch and sighing, Angry liberal women typing at me. Oh yah. That's how I like it. ~ Caitlin Moran

He leaned close, rubbing his bearded cheek against my ear. 'And how about a sweet kiss, now, for the brave lads of the clan MacKenzie? Tulach Ard!'
Erin go bragh,' I said rudely, and pushed with all my strength. ~ Diana Gabaldon

It's strange," I say, rubbing my feet against his. "I feel like I should be sad, but I'm not. It's not that I won't miss you, but it just feels like-"
"Like everything is going to be okay anyway," he says, finishing my thought. ~ Sarah Ockler

If I had a Boy Scout I could make a fire by rubbing his hind legs together. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

Eric Steele was strapped in and rubbing a rag over his father's 1911. Demo had brought the pistol with the rest of Steele's
gear on board the C-17. In the cockpit, the pilot pushed the throttle forward, shoving Steele back in his seat. He barely
noticed because he was thinking about the first time his father let him hold the pistol. It had felt so heavy in his hands
back then.


So much I never got to ask him.

He ran his thumb over the spot where the serial number should have been. It was silver and all traces of the file marks were
smoothed out by years of use. The pistol was one of John Moses Browning's masterpieces, the same design that the American
infantryman had carried in the Battle of Belleau Wood, Iwo Jima, Korea, and Vietnam. It was the only thing he had to remind
him of the father he never really knew.


Steele had made the pistol his own by modifying it to shoot 9mm, adding a threaded barrel, and installing suppressor sights,
which were taller than the factory ones. It was his gun now, and he slipped it away before taking an amphetamine tablet out
of his pocket and downing it with a sip of water. ~ Sean Parnell

You're insane," I told him, and stood up to dress.
He hugged me from behind, pressing hard against me, rubbing his smooth chest along my back. He spoke into my ear, "Insane for you, my love. ~ R.K. Lilley

Lipstick comes in phallic-shaped tubes. With just a breath of imagination, it feels as if you are holding a miniature penis, rubbing the head over your half-opened lips before squeezing down to spread the oily soft blush evenly over every curve and into every corner. ~ Chloe Thurlow

It's about reaching that moment of pure ecstasy when a drawing just happens. Where every move you make with your hand and every thought you have in your head grows in front of you without any mistakes; no rubbing out, starting again and getting frustrated. It's like being in a trance - it's a fluid - and you almost don't remember doing the picture. Drawing is an escape from all the unnecessary things in life that get in the way of being free. ~ Jamie Hewlett

All of nature talks to me - if I could just figure out what it's saying - trees are swinging in the breeze. They're talking to me. Insects are rubbing their legs together. They're all talking. They're talking to me. ~ Laurie Anderson

Morpheus puts an arm around me. "You're all right, blossom," he says, his mouth at my ear. "Can you drive?"
I nod and sniffle.
"Good." He scoots back to his seat, then grabs my chin to force me to look at him. "Next time, I expect you to figure a way out. A netherling way."
My tears gather around his hand, smudging his fingers with makeup.
"You didn't leave me," I utter in disbelief. "I thought you would leave me."
He releases my face and looks out the opposite window while rubbing his hand on his jeans to wipe off my mascara. "Nonsense. I stayed for the car." ~ A.G. Howard

Jealous?' Luce asked. They were alone now. She threw her arms around his broad shoulders and looked deep into his violet eyes. 'Why would you be jealous?'
'Because,' he said, rubbing his hands across her back. 'Your dance card is full. For all eternity. ~ Lauren Kate

Stop looking at me like that," I say, frowning and rubbing at my chest. He has this habit of making my heart sore, making my lungs feel like there's not enough air.
He tilts his head attractively, which only makes matters worse. "Like what?"
"Like you're molesting me with your eyes," I blurt out.
His answering laugh is long and deep. I can barely handle the affection in his gaze. "Okay, I'll try to stop. But if it all gets to be too much for you, this apartment happens to have a very nice bathroom. You can go rub one out again to take the edge off. I'll come listen, too, if that will help."
There he goes again, pushing me.
I do a slow blink at him before coming out with a rather masterful comeback. And when I say "masterful," I mean shit. "Why don't you go and rub one out?"
He cocks an eyebrow. "I don't rub out, darlin'. I jack off. ~ L. H. Cosway

Eric Seven does not believe in love at first sight.
He corrects himself.
Even in that moment, the moment that it happens, he fees his journalist's brain make a correction, rubbing out a long-held belief, writing a new one in its place.
He did not believe in love at first sight. He thinks he might do so now. ~ Marcus Sedgwick

Well," Puck commented, looking around at our odd party, "this is it, huh? I must admit, this is probably one of the stranger things I've had to do, with one of the stranger groups I've had to do it with."
The Wolf snorted. "No stranger than usual, Goodfellow."
"I guess not." Puck sighed, then straightened with a bright grin, rubbing his hands. "Welp, as a certain furball would point out, time's a-wasting. Who's up for saving the Nevernever one more time? ~ Julie Kagawa

I vote you read and we fellows will listen in rapt silence." "And thus Kit is indoctrinated into the conspiracy to which all males belong," Sophie muttered. "And you ladies don't have conspiracies of your own?" He brought the child to his shoulder and started rubbing Kit's little back. The sight sent odd tendrils of warmth drifting through Sophie's insides. "We women are cooperative by nature; that's different from conspiratorial." She ~ Grace Burrowes

Help,' Jo moaned. 'I think I'm in a coma.'

It was seven o'clock. The library walls were scrubbed clean and Allie's neck and shoulders ached whenever she even thought about raising her arms as she sat on the dust sheet next to Jo.

'Do your arms hurt?' Allie asked, rubbing her shoulders.

'God yes.'

'Then you're not in a coma.' Gingerly Allie stretched out her legs. 'Jesus. What have I got myself into? Rachel has a swimming pool and horses. Horses, Jo. I could be floating in a pool and petting soft pony noses if I were still at her house.'

'Here.' Jo turned to face her. 'My nose is soft. You can pet it.'

Allie stroked her nose tiredly. 'Wow. This is just like being at Rachel's. Where's the pool?'

'No pool,' Jo said. 'Showers.'

'Sucks.'

'Totally.'

'Are you two just going to lie there complaining? Or are you coming to dinner?' Allie looked up to see Carter standing above them, studying them doubtfully.

'Jo's in a coma,' Allie informed him. 'She no longer needs food.'

'Wait. Did you say food? I think I'm actually awake.' Jo scrambled to her feet.

'My God,' Allie said mildly. 'It's a miracle.'

'You've only been doing this one day, Sheridan.' Carter reached down to pull her up. 'You can't be tired already.'

'Everything hurts,' she said. 'Shoulders, arms, back …'

'Legs, feet, head …' Jo offered helpfully.
< ~ C.J. Daugherty

If only it was as easy to banish hunger by rubbing the belly as it is to masturbate. ~ Diogenes

Hey, that's weird," Chloe says. "You both have the same color eyes as Emma. I've never seen that before. I always thought it was because she's freakishly pasty. Ow! That's gonna leave a mark, Emma," she says, rubbing her freshly pinched biceps.
"Good, I hope it does," I snap. I want to ask them about their eyes-the color seems prettier set against the olive tone of Galen's skin-but Chloe has bludgeoned my chances of recovering from embarrassment. I'll have to be satisfied that my dad-and Google-were wrong all this time; my eye color just can't be that rare. Sure, my dad practiced medicine until the day he died two years ago. And sure, Google never let me down before. But who am I to argue with living, breathing proof that this eye color actually does exist? Nobody, that's who. Which is convenient, since I don't want to talk anymore. Don't want to force Galen into any more awkward conversations. Don't want to give Chloe any more opportunities to deepen the heat of my burning cheeks. I just want this moment of my life to be over.
I push past Chloe and snatch up the surfboard. To her good credit, she presses herself against the rail as I pass her again. I stop in front of Galen and his sister. "It was nice to meet you both. Sorry I ran into you. Let's go, Chloe."
Galen looks like he wants to say something, but I turn away. He's been a good sport, but I'm not interested in discussing swimmer safety-or being introduced to any more of his hostile relatives. Nothing h ~ Anna Banks

The dead are on their way to work, grey limbs rubbing together in an open grave, stack on stack in the metal containers of car, tube and train. The grisly carriages are painted bright colors, guillotine colors of tumbril and blade, execution-bright. Each man and woman goes to their particular scaffold, kneels, and is killed day after day. Each collects their severed head and catches the train home. Some say that they enjoy their work. ~ Jeanette Winterson

There are times when any amount of being within the world is like rubbing bare skin against sandpaper, when any form of motion is a kind of abrasion, leaving you raw and pink and vulnerable to the next thing. At these times I prefer to close my eyes and be still, still like the cups or candles or crackers on the table, nerveless and open. I closed my eyes and tried to think of the thing furthest from my situation. ~ Alexandra Kleeman

She felt like backing into his crotch and pressing her back into his chest. And then maybe rubbing against him a little. ~ Jessica Lemmon

I've never heard a writer feel that way about a device with a screen. Oh sure, they're functional, practical. We would be lost without them. But just as we need to feel our feet on the earth, smell and taste the world around us, the pen scratching against the page, sensory and slow, is the difference between looking at a high-definition picture of a flower and holding that very same flower in your palm, feeling the brush of its petals, the color of its stamen rubbing off on your fingers. ~ Dani Shapiro

What rubs off on me is hard to rub off. So, I'd better figure out what I rubbing up against. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

I'm sorry." Her voice cracked. "McKenna-"
"Not sorry enough." He pressed his wet face to hers, his mouth rubbing over her cheeks and chin in feverish, rough half kisses, as if he wanted to devour her. "Not nearly enough. You say you've had to live without your heart...how would you like to lose your soul as well? I've cursed every day I've had to live without you, and every night that I spent with another woman, wishing that it was you in my arms-"
"NO-" she moaned.
"Wishing," he continued fiercely, "for some way to stop the memories of you from eating away at me until there was nothing left inside. I've found no peace anywhere, not even in sleep. Not even in dreams..." He broke off and assaulted her with hungry, shuddering kisses. The taste of his tears, his mouth, made Aline disoriented and hot, her head reeling from shocks of pleasure. McKenna seemed possessed by a passion that bordered on violence, his lungs wracked with hard breaths, his hands tightening with a force that threatened to leave bruises on her tender flesh. "By God," he said with the vehemence of a man to whom entirely too much had happened, "In the past few days I've suffered the torments of the damned, and I've had enough! ~ Lisa Kleypas

Maximoff lowers his voice. 'The shade is called My Lips Against Your Lips, and it's not coming off. Stop rubbing and let's form a plan. ~ Becca Ritchie

He stopped at an intersection, panting, rubbing at the twinge in his hamstrings, looking around, though he knew no cars were coming in either direction.
Dropping forward at the waist Martin admitted that he was fucking himself up. Dr Leonowsky told him: hurting yourself is an articulation of self-disgust. It helps no one, prevents nothing. This wasn't a glorious loss of control, he was fooling himself, it was self-harm. ~ Denise Mina

Don't what, Princess?" I ask. "You're the one who's rubbing up against my cock like it's a magic lamp. ~ Sabrina Paige

She went stealthily as a cat through this profusion of growth, gathering cuckoo-spittle on her skirts, cracking snails that were underfoot, staining her hands with thistle-milk and slug-slime, and rubbing off upon her naked arms sticky blights which, though snow-white on the apple-tree trunks, made madder stains on her skin; thus she drew quite near to Clare, still unobserved of him. ~ Thomas Hardy

Was awakened abruptly just after dawn by a tiny stinging sensation on top of my head. I blinked and put up a hand to investigate. The movement startled a large gray jay who had been pulling hairs out of my head, and he shot up into a nearby pine tree, screeching hysterically. "Serve you right, mate," I muttered, rubbing the top of my head, but couldn't help smiling. I had been told often enough that my hair looked like a bird's nest first thing in the morning; perhaps there was something to it, after all. ~ Diana Gabaldon

I could tell you a tale about something,' Miach offered, rubbing her hand absently. 'If you like.'
She frowned thoughtfully. 'What sort of something?'
'Something that would soothe you,' he promised. 'I'm sure there would be swords involved. Bloodshed. Peril. That kind of thing. ~ Lynn Kurland

I frowned, staring into the eerie blackness along Route 33 truckers always complained about. It is odd how we rarely encounter true darkness. Somewhere, there is always light; a house, a town, headlights. Not here. Just total and complete darkness. I had been on the night run for months, long enough to get accustomed to total darkness if not entirely comfortable with it. What concerned me was the silence. I'd often had to pull over and take a pee along that godforsaken beltway. There were crickets rubbing their legs together in the cotton and wheat, grasshoppers jumping through the corn stalks, and June bugs flittering above the fields. Occasionally while relieving myself I'd even hear a lone armadillo burrowing. Tonight, however, I heard nothing. Less than nothing. Always there existed a strangeness here the truckers talked about, but tonight something had inexplicably hushed the sounds of night and made it stranger. The silence itself was dead; the kind of silence you get high up in the mountains when it snows, hushing the entire world beneath a white blanket. The blanket along Damnation Road was black, and it felt…unnatural." - NIGHT RUN - Bobby Underwood ~ Bobby Underwood

Who else would think to take running notes? With your nose rubbing constantly against the pages of scribbled life, while life, the real McCoy, lifted two fingers at you and went tumbling into the surf with a flock of Tahitian girls. Flowers in their hair and laughter on their lips.

(Crossstitch, in Island of Nothing) ~ Steven William Lawrie

I threw away the whole of my working history, my photograph albums, diaries and stage clothes. Shoving big, ugly discs on walls is a bit like rubbing people's faces in it, saying 'I am considerably richer than you.' It is completely unnecessary. ~ Alison Moyet

There is one thing I need to be sure of," said the Emperor, taking an arrow, and placing it in the bow, cocking it back, "I need to know where your loyalties lay, Miss Roberts."
"With you, Emperor," said Areli, scared, "of course, they're with you."
"Then prove it," said the Emperor, "prove your obedience to me. Prove your allegiance." He placed the crossbow in her fingers, laced her finger against the trigger, and positioned the butt of the weapon against her shoulders. "That woman there. She's a follower, Areli. She's a deceitful little tramp that had taken residence in the bed of Degendhard's. I want you to kill her for me. I want you to punish her, for her crimes against her Empire." Areli looked at him, bewildered, with eyes that screamed, you can't be serious!
"If you don't. Then I will have no other option than to assume you have been taken to Degendhard's bed as well. You will do this, Areli. You will punish her. Prove your worth." Areli took a deep breath, feeling the smoothness of the wood and the coldness of the trigger for the first time since having the harsh weapon thrust into her hand.
The Emperor, sensing her hesitation, forced himself upon her. Her lifted her arms, and steadied the weapon into her shoulder, his chest pressed up against her back, his lips rubbing against her ear. The crossbow shook. The woman's head lulled back and forth as she was stuck in a drug rendered dream-state, not knowing that her body faced impalement.
" ~ Jeffrey Johnson

Darkdoom? Darkdoom did this?" Nero was visibly surprised. He placed a hand on his forehead, rubbing his temples. "Oh, why is it always the bald ones? ~ Mark Walden

I love the way you taste, Rebecca," he said, his voice rubbing over my exposed flesh. "I dream about it every night." Then he lifted his eyes and met mine with a gaze so arresting I thought my heart would stop. A wicked smile sliced over his lips. "And now I'll get to taste it every morning. ~ Ava Lore

What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion
Make yourselves scabs? ~ William Shakespeare

Who won the 2004 World Series?"
She shrugged, "The Yankees?"
"The Yankees? And you claim to be an American?" He enjoyed rubbing it in after her attitude about Harrisburg. "It was the Red Sox. The year they broke the curse. ~ Brandon Mull

Sometimes when he's drinking, he gets all weepy and he'll ask me to come closer to him and he'll ask me to hug him and it feels strange to hold him close to me but it feels good too, with his face hair rubbing like sandpaper against my softer cheeks and it's strange and sad the feeling of sorrow I feel because I know he might not have actually been physically touched, except by accident, by another human for about fifteen years. ~ Trent Dalton

But damn it, if he could be nonchalant about a woman rubbing herself against his giant erection like it was a stripper's pole, then so could she. ~ Amy Andrews

Frankie,I noticed as I flipped the mic up to its normal position, was staring at me through narrowed eyes, clapping so slowly that I could actually measure the silence in between beats.
I felt about three inches tall as I stepped off the stage.

~~~

"...and went down like a rock.Bam."
"Oh,man. What did you do?"
"What could I do?" I shrugged. "I hopped up, took a bow, and ran. I was late to meet you."
Alex was gently rubbing my bare knee. I'd rolled up my jeans to show him the bruise already blossoming there. "I would have caught you," he said, fingers sliding to the inside of my leg and making my insides feel like jelly.
"Not likely, O Gallant One.The stage is only a foot high."
"I gotta see this place sometime. ~ Melissa Jensen

These are the males," she said. Beth leaned in to examine it. "Any stimulation," Magdalena said, and finished the thought by gently rubbing her fingers together. The bee's hoary tail split open, and a thin, stamenlike organ shot out and curled. "Like all males, harmless and easily aroused." She laughed. "It's the females you have to be careful about. ~ Christopher Bollen

We're lucky Esme thought to add an extra room. No one was planning for Ness-Renesmee."
I frowned at him, my thoughts channeled down a less pleasant path.
"Not you too," I complained.
"Sorry, love. I hear it in their thoughts all the time, you know. It's rubbing off on me.
I sighed. My baby, the sea serpent. Maybe there was no help for it. Well, I wasn't giving in. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Everything hurts." Falkan grimaced, rubbing at his leg. "Remind me never to do anything heroic again. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Lecktrickery? grinned the fool boys, rubbing their rabbits' feet against the spell of these longest syllables in all Tarnation. ~ William T. Vollmann

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, "And where were you last night?"
Lucien's metal eye narrowed on me. "I'll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol." Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, "With some company." He gave me a sly grin. "Rumor has it you two didn't come back until after dawn."
I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I'd practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin's gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous.
"You bit my neck on Fire Night," I said under my breath. "If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing."
He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. "Nothing?" His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him.
"Nothing," I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin's mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath.
"Are you sure?" he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me.
"I'm trying to eat," Lucien said. ~ Sarah J. Maas

As I turned toward it, a premonitory wave of heat flashed across my neck and shoulders, and I felt the dry itch of the past rubbing against the present. ~ Greg Iles

The rock came loose, but Jake's satisfied grunt turned into a howl of outraged pain as a set of huge teeth in the next stall clamped into Jake's ample rear end. "You vicious bag of bones," he shouted, jumping to his feet and throwing himself half over the rail in an attempt to land a punch on Attila's body. As if the horse anticipated retribution, he sidled to the edge of his stall and regarded Jake from the corner of his eye with an expression that looked to Jake like complacent satisfaction. "I'll get you for that," Jake promised, and he started to shake his fist when he realized how absurd it was to threaten a dumb beast.
Rubbing his offended backside, he turned to Mayhem and carefully put his own rump against the outside wall of the barn. He checked the hoof to make certain it was clean, but the moment his fingers touched the place where the rock had been lodged the chestnut jerked in pain. "Bruised you, did it?" Jake said sympathetically. "It's not surprisin', considering the size and shape of the rock. But you never gave a sign yesterday that you were hurtin'," he continued. Raising his voice and infusing it with a wealth of exaggerated admiration, the patted the chestnut's flank and glanced disdainfully at Attila while he spoke to Mayhem. "That's because you're a true aristocrat and a fine, brave animal-not a miserable, sneaky mule who's not fit to be your stallmate!"
If Attila cared one way or another for Jake's opinion, he was disappointingly careful not to ~ Judith McNaught

Haydn snorts. "Only gullible, lovesick fools spout that mushy crap." Thank the stars that his tone is teasing, because I can sense Logan's patience waning.
"When you find the right girl, I'm so going to make you eat your words. And I'm going to thoroughly enjoy rubbing your nose in it. ~ Siobhan Davis

So I see you got to know Trish on a pretty intimate level tonight," Max said, focusing her attention back on the present as they made their way down the deserted roads back to her house.
"She was definitely…friendly."
What Landon casually defined as friendly was what Max more accurately described as molestation. Her hands had disappeared under the table, rubbing his leg or whatever she was doing, more times than she spent holding her damn cards. Landon's indifference to the whole thing was entirely impossible to read. Was he enjoying the attention? Wouldn't any man? Not that it was any of her business. Landon was just some guy that she'd let stay with her for a few days. The fact that he was good-looking was irrelevant. Trish could have him for all she cared as long as they kept the indecencies out of her house.
"Well, don't you worry about her. She's a bit of a flirt when she's drunk. I'm pretty sure she'd hit on a monkey."
"You just compared me to a monkey and you don't want me to worry?"
"You know what I mean."
"I'm sorry, I don't."
"Don't tell me that girls like that actually appeal to you."
"Jealous?"
"Hardly," Max shot back defensively. "I just pegged you for a man with higher standards that's all." She couldn't really say why she'd chosen to share her opinion. No harm in giving the guy a little warning, right?
"You've pegged me for a lot of things. ~ Shawn Kirsten Maravel

I've got you baby," she whispered.
The pain inside was unbearable – worse than anything in his experience. He couldn't breathe. "It hurts," he gasped. "God, it hurts. Mercy," he begged her, rubbing his face against her belly. "Mercy, Aggie. Mercy. ~ Olivia Cunning

Where did you get that?" shouted Cassie, rubbing her temples fiercely, fighting to focus.
"This?" Isabella swung at a hooded figure as it made a lunge for her, cracking her weapon into its head. The figure dropped like a stone. "I bring this to school every term, Cassie! I knew it would come in handsome."
"Handy," said Cassie, shaking her head clear at last. ~ Gabriella Poole

Excellent," says Gray, rubbing his hands together, a gleam in his eye. "The last
person to sing gets to buy the drinks."
Ivy grins wide. "You're on, Cupcake. I'm going to sing the house down."
We all pause, our gazes darting back and forth as a certain sense of terror falls
over the table.
Ivy sees us and slaps her palm onto the table. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I know what
you twats are thinking! If I suck at dancing, I'll suck at singing? Well, I don't. I'm
awesome."
Awkward silence ensues, and she snorts.
"What? You think I don't know I suck at dancing? I just don't give a shit." She
glares at Gray, though there really isn't any anger in the look. "So you can stop
dancing like an ass now."
A strangled sound leaves him. "You knew?"
"Of course." She tosses a lock of her hair over her shoulder. "You're too
coordinated on the field, and you kind of forget to suck when you do those victory
dances."
He gapes at her for a long second, then gives a bark of laughter. "I fucking love
you, Special Sauce." With that, he hauls Ivy into his lap and kisses her.
Fi, however, finally snaps out of the trance she's been in since Ivy confessed.
"You sneaky shithead," she shouts over the music. "All these years I've been
covering for your craptacular dancing, and you knew!" She shakes a fist. "I swear to
God, Ivy Weed…"
"Oh, please," Ivy counters. "You pretend you suck at baking so you don' ~ Kristen Callihan

He would punish him for his impertinence. He would cane him right away, the second they left the room, then spend the rest of the day rubbing his raw wounds to remind him of the gravity of his offenses. But come nighttime, he would hug him tight to his chest to make Dorian understand that he would never, ever let him go as long as he had the strength to draw breath. ~ Valentina C. Brin

The books downstairs were reciting their poetry to each other, rubbing together, whispering through the leathery covers. Wine was flowing through the water pipes. You had caught my leaping heart in your hands like a fish. ~ Francesca Lia Block

That was before Clay moved those big, warm hands up over her body, spreading one on her lower back while the other curved around her nape. The hold was so proprietary, so aggressive, it should've scared her into running in the other direction. Instead it sparked a darkly sexual heat in her, stoking her need past blazing. She melted into him, pressing her aching breasts against the solid wall of his chest. He purred into her mouth. Nipples shocked into sudden pleasure by the vibration, she pulled back. "You purr?"

His smile was pure cat. "Only for you."

Any resistance she might've harbored to this dangerous, inevitable escalation in their relationship dissolved into a big fat pool at her feet. He was being charming. Clay did not do charm, not for anyone. Except, it seemed, her. She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Stop being so sexy."

His smile widened and, sliding his hand from her nape to her hair, he tugged back her head so he could kiss her again. The embers in her stomach burst into flame as she realized she was rubbing her nipples against him. He didn't seem to mind - he was doing that purring thing again. ~ Nalini Singh

Energy is everything. Rubbing happy and sad together creates energy. ~ Naomi Shihab Nye

If you do not exclude them, in less than 200 years our descendants will be working in the fields to furnish them substance, while they will be in the counting houses rubbing their hands. I warn you, gentlemen, if you do not exclude Jews for all time, your children will curse you in your graves. ~ Benjamin Franklin

See, she's proving to be an asset already," Lucifer exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "I knew I was making the right choice pairing you up." "You're both insane," he muttered. "Thank you," they replied in chorus. And despite himself, Xaphan's lips almost twitched a smile in response. He clamped his mouth tight. I don't smile. Even for cute psychopaths. ~ Eve Langlais

Bel jumped to his feet, rubbing his wrists where the shel'dor piercings had chafed. "All right, kem'jetos. First we save Rain and Ellysetta, then we kick some Elden ass. ~ C.L. Wilson

After all the field of battle possesses many advantages over the drawing-room. There at least is no room for pretension or excessive ceremony, no shaking of hands or rubbing of noses, which make one doubt your sincerity, but hearty as well as hard hand-play. It at least exhibits one of the faces of humanity, the former only a mask. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Not all of the women were influenced by the pheromones, but enough of them were to elevate the findings to robust statistical significance and to demonstrate with fair firmness that human pheromones exist. What we see in this carefully controlled experiment is that women can push and women can pull, and they can respond to other women in varying ways, all unconsciously, without knowing why, without the benefit even of olfaction, for the women in the study said they smelled nothing when the swab was applied under their nose, save for the scent of rubbing alcohol used as a prep in the experiment. ~ Natalie Angier

The patter of tentative footfalls reached my ears. I flipped on my side to face the door and saw Ansel wander by. I rolled onto my back, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I'd crashed on my bed as soons as I'd gotten back from school, collapsing under the weight of the day.
The floorboards squeaked as Ansel passed by my door again. I caught his nervous glance in my direction before he hurried down the hall.
'Ansel, I'm not the sun; stop orbiting and get in here,' I called. ~ Andrea Cremer

In every wreck and crash, there is some unseen man rubbing his hands with thoughts of tidy profits. ~ Hugh Howey

I pulled Dylan up onto my lap, her little yellow Chucks rubbing against my shins. "Hi, Daddy," she chirped. "I miss you. ~ Penelope Douglas

That black horse we used for packin' up here is the most cantankerous beast alive," Jake grumbled, rubbing his arm.
Ian lifted his gaze from the initials on the tabletop and turned to Jake, making no attempt to hide his amusement. "Bit you, did he?"
"Damn right he bit me!" the older man said bitterly. "He's been after a chuck of me since we left the coach at Hayborn and loaded those sacks on his back to bring up here."
"I warned you he bites anything he can reach. Keep your arm out of his way when you're saddling him."
"It weren't my arm he was after, it was my arse! Opened his mouth and went for it, only I saw him outter the corner of my eye and swung around, so he missed." Jakes's frown darkened when he saw the amusement in Ian's expression. "Can't see why you've bothered to feed him all these years. He doesn't deserve to share a stable with your other horses-beauties they are, every one but him."
"Try slinging packs over the backs of one of those and you'll see why I took him. He was suitable for using as a pack mule; none of my other cattle would have been," ian said, frowning as he lifted his head and looked about at the months of accumulated dirt covering everything.
"He's slower'n a pack mule," Jake replied. "Mean and stubborn and slow," he concluded, but he, too, was frowning a little as he looked around at the thick layers of dust coating every surface. "Thought you said you'd arranged for some village wenches to come up here and clean a ~ Judith McNaught

At the teasing penetration, my hips jerk upward. Wes chuckles and eases his finger deeper, until the pad of it is stroking my prostate. My entire body trembles. Tingles. Burns. He spends a maddeningly long time torturing me with his mouth and finger - no, fingers. He's got two inside me now, rubbing that sensitive place and bringing white dots to my eyes. "Wes," I murmur. He raises his head. His gray eyes are smoky with desire. "Hmmm?" he says lazily. "Stop fucking teasing me and start fucking fucking me," I rasp. "Fucking fucking you? Did you really need two fuckings?" "One's an adverb and one's a verb." My voice is as tight as every muscle in my body. I'm about to go up in flames if he doesn't make me come. His laughter warms my thigh. "I love the English language, dude. It's so creative." "Are we really having this conversation right now?" I growl when his teeth sink into my inner thigh. His fingers are still lodged inside me, but no longer moving. ~ Sarina Bowen

Rubbing a clit to completion and sawing off someone's foot seemed to use all the same muscles. ~ Karina Halle

You're more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; "you're a humbug." "Exactly so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased him. "I am a humbug. ~ L. Frank Baum

Matheus pressed his fingertips to his forehead, rubbing in overlapping circles. He closed his eyes and exhaled. He wanted to grab Quin and run. Jump in the Jeep and drive until they reached the Panama Canal. ~ Amy Fecteau

I love you," she sobbed, rubbing her hands over his face, his hair, his chest, making sure he was solid and real. "I love you, and I thought you were dead. I couldn't bear it. I thought I would die too."
"I'd walk through fire for you," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I have walked through fire for you. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

It will be full dark soon, and I do not like the look of that sky. The temperature is falling as well," he added, rubbing his hands together briskly. "I think we shall be in for a bit of snow from the look of the cloud just over the Downs." Naturally the gentlemen had to spend another quarter of an hour debating the weather as the ladies stood shivering, Portia rolling her eyes at me behind Father's back. In the end they all agreed that, yes, it was indeed growing colder and darker and we ought to depart at once for the Abbey. ~ Deanna Raybourn

Basically Ken is a very gentle, home-loving person. I remember when one of his stick insects had a knee infection. He stayed up all night rubbing it with germoline and banging its head on the table. ~ Dave Barry

I didn't understand at the time why Vince was so interested in teaching me life lessons when all I was trying to do was get my video played. But now I think it's because he saw a little bit of himself in me. Just like me, he was a rebel who listened to no one and did whatever it took to get the job done, pissing people off with his stubbornness and drive in the process. Therefore, he was trying to teach me how to better myself instead of repeatedly getting into trouble by rubbing people the wrong way. ~ Chris Jericho

Percussion music is revolution. Sound and rhythm have too long been submissive to the restrictions of nineteenth century music. Today we are fighting for their emancipation. Tomorrow, with electronic music in our ears, we will hear freedom. At the present stage of revolution, a healthy lawlessness is warranted. Experiment must necessarily be carried on by hitting anything-tin pans, rice bowls, iron pipes-anything we can lay our hands on. Not only hitting, but rubbing, scraping, making sound in every possible way ... What we can't do ourselves will be done by machines which we will invent. ~ John Cage

Is that what you want? To have your own place?"
"Isn't it what you want?" Hans asked, his resolve weakening.
Thomas pulled him into an embrace. "Don't be dumb. This is your home now. We agreed you'd move back into your room while the relatives were here, but as soon as they're gone, Boris and I want you back in our bed."
Hans sank gratefully against his broad chest, and a moment later, Boris pressed up against his back, making a Hans sandwich. He sighed contentedly.
"Did we not settle all this?" Boris asked "We love you. We are a family."
"I know that," Hans said, "but a lot of boyfriends live apart."
Thomas squeezed him tight. "Not us." He eased up, so Hans could breathe again. "We have plenty of room for you here. We want you to live with us."
"Do you want that too, puppy?" Boris asked, nuzzling his nape.
Hans sighed. All of this rubbing together of bodies was causing his cock to swell. "Yes," he said.
Then they made love ~ Jamie Fessenden

What did you do?"
Rubbing my forehead, I grimaced, preparing myself for Josey's reaction. "I went into the bathroom. When I came back out ten minutes later, he was gone."
Her mouth fell open and she gave me her uneven-eyes stare, where she made one eye slightly larger than the other.
"Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
"That look. The one you use instead of saying you're a fecking eejit."
"Oh, that look." She blinked and her eye sizes normalized. "Was I giving you that look?"
"Yes."
"Good. ~ L.H. Cosway

Perhaps we underestimated your mother," he said. "I can't imagine she would have made it so easy for anyone to find."

"A World War isn't enough of a hurdle?" Etta asked, rubbing her hand over her face. "Okay, okay…we just have to think this through.…"

"I do have an idea, but I'm afraid it's terrible," Nicholas said, surveying the lock on the gate and giving it another hard tug.

"A bad idea is better than no idea," Etta said.

"I'm glad you feel that way, because this is an exquisitely bad one." He turned toward her. "We can go around the back of the museum and I can lift you over the gate. You can then slip into the museum and hold any guards or curators inside hostage, until they give up the information about the location of the statues."

"Hold them hostage?" she repeated.

"Don't you know? That's how real pirates like Blackbeard made most of their money. He ransomed whole cities," he said. "I'll even teach you how to use the revolver."

Despite herself, Etta smiled. "I really appreciate the faith you have in my criminal abilities. But even if I find someone in there, I doubt they'll be good for anything other than calling the police to pick me up. It seems like the kind of information people would do anything to protect ~ Alexandra Bracken

Your mother told you," he states flatly.
"Yeah," I snap. "She told me."
"She doesn't know everything. She doesn't know me...or how I feel. I would never force you to do anything against your will, and I would never, ever let anyone harm you."
His words enrage me. Lies, I'm convinced. My hand shoots out, ready to slap that earnest look off his face. The same earnest look he'd given me the first time he lid to my face.
He catches my hand, squeezes the wrist tight. "Jacinda-"
"I don't believe you. You gave me your word. Five weeks-"
"Five weeks was too long. I couldn't leave you for that long without checking on you."
"Because you're a liar," I assert.
His expression cracks. Emotion bleeds through. He knows I'm not talking about just the five weeks. With a shake of his head, he sounds almost sorry as he admits, "Maybe I didn't tell you everything, but it doesn't change anything I said. I will never hurt you. I want to try to protect you."
"Try," I repeat.
His jaw clenches. "I can. I can stop them."
After several moments, I twist my hand free. He lets me go. Rubbing my wrist, I glare at him. "I have a life here now." My fingers stretch, curl into talons at my sides, still hungry to fight him. "Make me go, and I'll never forgive you."
He inhales deeply, his broad chest lifting high. "Well. I can't have that."
"Then you'll go? Leave me alone?" Hope stirs.
He shakes his head. "I didn't say that."
"Of course n ~ Sophie Jordan

All the way back, she had imagined him gloating and taunting, rubbing her face in her own broken pride. Instead, he knelt before her and washed her dirty, blistered feet. Throat burning, she looked down at his dark head and struggled with the feelings rising in her. She waited for them to die away, but they wouldn't. ~ Francine Rivers

With no clean clothes in the bathroom, my only option was to wrap the towel around myself, take a deep breath, and open the door.
There was a scream.
From Logan.

---

"Is anyone else naked?" Logan was sitting on the floor, back against my bed, shading his eyes with one hand and rubbing his forehead with the other.
"Is naked a thing now that a girl's on the team?"

A & E Kirk (2014-05-26). Drop Dead Demons: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book 2 (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series) (pp. 168-169). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. ~ A. Kirk

The Jake Gyllenhaal workout planstarts with growing long, long hairgorgeous greasy locks and then washing every day.Wash, shampoo, then condition. Washing works the biceps and then the triceps by conditioning. And vigorously rubbing all of your body with soap really defines the abs and the pectoral muscles. And if you do squats while you're bathing - that's it! ~ Jake Gyllenhaal

When I exited the car, Marlboro Man was there. Shielded by the dark of the morning, we were free to greet each other not only with a close, romantic hug but also a soft, sweet kiss. I was glad I'd remembered to brush my teeth.
"You made it," he said, smiling and rubbing my lower back.
"Yep," I replied, concealing a yawn. "And I got a five-mile run in before I came. I feel awesome."
"Uh-huh," he said, taking my hand and heading toward the house. "I sure wish I were a morning person like you. ~ Ree Drummond

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. ~ Ian Morgan Cron

I try to ignore the fact that I can feel Kieren's hard-on against my ass and that it's perfectly pressing into me. I tell my suddenly happy cunny to stop quivering with excitement. Naughty, puss, that's creepy Kieren rubbing on you. Stop purring, dammit! ~ Erica Chilson

Later, when the party had thinned out and Betsy and I ran to the ladies' room to primp, she remarked on Marlboro Man's chivalry, sighing over his sweet display of kindness.
Then she moved closer to me, zeroing in and focusing on the general area of my chin.
"Oh…my…God," she said, covering her mouth with her hand. "What's wrong with your face?"
My stomach fell to the floor. I found a bottle of Jergens on the bathroom counter and began rubbing it in, determined to beat the flaking skin into submission. ~ Ree Drummond

We were born exactly six weeks apart, a perfect match, age-wise. You can imagine what it's been like since our mothers first plopped us into a crib together, rubbing their hands in conspiratorial glee as they planned our wedding. Playdates followed where the adults smiled and cooed as they watched us dig in the sandbox, where Ryder tugging on my pigtails was a sure sign of his adoration, where me throwing sand in his face only proved my devotion.
Star-crossed love? Ha! Not even close. Mostly, I try to avoid him whenever possible. ~ Kristi Cook

I love you," he whispered, rubbing his
jaw against her temple. "And you love me. I can feel it when you're in my arms." He felt her stiffen slightly
and draw a shaky breath, but she either couldn't or wouldn't speak. She hadn't thrown the words back in his face, however, so Ian continued talking to her, his hand roving over her back. "I can feel it, Elizabeth, but if you don't admit it pretty soon, you're going to drive me out of my mind. I can't work. I can't think. I make decisions and then I change my mind. And," he teased, trying to lighten the mood by using the one topic sure to distract her, "that's nothing to the money I squander whenever I'm under this sort of violent stress. It wasn't just the gowns I bought, or the house on Promenade..."

Still talking to her, he tipped her chin up, glorying in the gentle passion in her eyes, overlooking the doubt in their green depths. "If you don't admit it pretty soon," he teased, "I'll spend us out of house and home." Her delicate brows drew together in blank confusion, and Ian grinned, taking her hand from his chest, the emerald betrothal ring he had bought her unnoticed in his fingers. "When I'm under stress," he emphasized, sliding the magnificent emerald onto her finger, "I buy everything in sight. It took my last ounce of control not to buy one of these in every color. ~ Judith McNaught

Ah baby, you know I do what I want." Rubbing his chin on her hair, he squeezed her hip. "Man and wolf, we both adore you. No way am I letting you go after the hell you've put me through over the years. ~ Nalini Singh