Stranger In My Arms Quotes

I realized that the whole time I was holding this beautiful stranger in my arms, feeding on her, it felt like I was betraying Sofia. ~ Bella Forrest

When she awakened, Hunter was watching her with eyes like dark velvet.
"You're the last woman I'll ever make love to," he said, stroking her breast, toying with the rosy peak. She stroked his sun-streaked hair and the hard nape of his neck, loving the feel of him against her.
"Good," she whispered.
"Keep me with you, Lara. I don't want to leave you. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Julie marched over to Matt. She stood in front of him and crossed her arms. "Lift up your sweatshirt."
Matt rolled his eyes. "God, you really know how to turn a guy on."
Julie didn't budge. "If I was trying to turn you on, I could do better than that. Now, lift up your sweatshirt."
Matt looked up at her and tried to look serious. "Julie, I'm completely offended that you have so little faith in my honesty. I thought at this point in our friendship that you would at least - "
"Get up." Julie leaned over and shut his laptop. "Get up!" she said again.
"You're being ridiculous," Matt said laughing, but he stood up. "I trust you implicitly, and it wouldn't kill you to show me the same respect."
"Show me!"
Matt sidestepped the chair and took a few steps backward. "You have quite the attitude today. Suspicious and mean."
Julie took a step forward, causing Matt to continue backing away. "Lift up your shirt."
"Look, I appreciate an aggressive woman, but this is really getting weird."
Julie grabbed his sweatshirt by the waist cuff and lifted it up with one hand, as she pulled down his T-shirt with the other. Matt put his hands over hers, lightly protesting, but she refused to let go. "Aha!" She squinted at his shirt.
"OK, I don't even know what this is, but it's definitely geeky. ~ Jessica Park

Distraught I seize mine arms ... And with my comrades hasten to the hold: frenzy and anger urge my headlong will, and death methinks how comely, sword in hand! ~ Virgil

Yet now, having held in grief and resentment, and evaded thinking too much about the episode that changed my life with the finality of an axe, here I am exalted by having made use of it, by having spilled my guts in public. We are strange creatures, and writers are stranger creatures than most. ~ Wallace Stegner

She licked her lips nervously, "I've never been naked in front of someone before," she admitted.
"Good," I replied sitting up and reaching for her waist and pulling her to me. "You don't have to get naked in front of me it you aren't ready. But if you do then I will be a very, very happy man."
Pagan laughed softly, "Actually you'll be a very, very happy Death."
I took a nip at her earlobe then whispered, "That's right and right now Death is having very, very naughty thoughts about you. So please take off those sexy panties and crawl back in this bed with me."
Pagan shivered in my arms, "That sure is a good way to ask. ~ Abbi Glines

I opened myself up to the kiss and kissed him back with enthusiasm. Putting all my secret emotions and tender feelings into the embrace, I wound my arms around his neck and slid my hands into his hair. Pulling his body that much closer to mine, I embraced him with all the warmth and affection that I wouldn't allow myself to express verbally.
He paused, shocked for a brief instant, and then quickly adjusted his approach, escalating into a passionate frenzy. I shocked myself by matching his energy. I ran my hands up his powerful arms and shoulders and then down his chest. My senses were in turmoil. I felt wild. Eager. I clutched at his shirt. I couldn't get close enough to him. He even smelled delicious.
You'd think that several days of being chased by strange creatures and hiking through a mysterious kingdom would make him smell bad. In fact, I wanted him to smell bad. I'm sure I did. I mean, how can you expect a girl to be fresh as a daisy while traipsing through the jungle and getting chased by monkeys. It's just not possible.
I desperately wanted him to have some fault. Some weakness. Some…imperfection. But Ren smelled amazing-like waterfalls, a warm summer day, and sandalwood trees all wrapped up in a sizzling, hot guy.
How could a girl defend herself from a perfect onslaught delivered by a pefect person? I gave up and let Mr. Wonderful take control of my senses. My blood burned, my heart thundered, my need for him quickened, and I lost all track of ti ~ Colleen Houck

Someone stop them!" I yell.

No one does.

I think about Porter surrounded by people that horrible day on the beach years ago, when no one would help him save his dad from the shark. If strangers won't help when someone is dying, they're definitely not going to stop two kids from running out of a museum.

Pulse swishing in my temples, I race around the information booth, pumping my arms, and watch them split up again. Polo is heading for the easy way out: the main exit, where there's (1) only a set of doors to go through, and (2) Hector, the laziest employee on staff.

But Backpack is headed for the ticketing booth and the connecting turnstiles. Freddy should be there, but no one's entering the museum, so he's instead chatting it up with Hector. The turnstiles are unmanned.

Like a pro hustler who's never paid a subway fare, Backpack hurdles over the turnstiles in one leap. Impressive. Or it would have been, had his backpack not slipped off his shoulder and the strap not caught on one of the turnstile arms. While he struggles to free it, I take the easier route and make for the wheelchair access gate.

I unhitch the latch.

He frees the strap.

I slip through the gate, and just as he's turning to run, I lurch forward and -

I jump on his back.

We hit the ground together. The air whooshes out of my lungs and my knee slams into tile. He cries out. I don't.

I freaking ~ Jenn Bennett

No, Maximilien, I am not offended," answered she, "but do you not see what a poor, helpless being I am, almost a stranger and an outcast in my father's house, where even he is seldom seen; whose will has been thwarted, and spirits broken, from the age of ten years, beneath the iron rod so sternly held over me; oppressed, mortified, and persecuted, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, no person has cared for, even observed my sufferings, nor have I ever breathed one word on the subject save to yourself. Outwardly and in the eyes of the world, I am surrounded by kindness and affection; but the reverse is the case. The general remark is, `Oh, it cannot be expected that one of so stern a character as M. Villefort could lavish the tenderness some fathers do on their daughters. What though she has lost her own mother at a tender age, she has had the happiness to find a second mother in Madame de Villefort.' The world, however, is mistaken; my father abandons me from utter indifference, while my mother-in-law detests me with a hatred so much the more terrible because it is veiled beneath a continual smile. ~ Alexandre Dumas

I want it all ... fast. I want to be married, I want to live together ... and then somewhere around a year or two years, I get freaked out. I freak out emotionally and then I actually feel like 'Oh my God, who's this stranger in my house?' ~ Fred Armisen

Holding these babies in my arms makes me realize the miracle my husband and I began. ~ Betty Ford

and they still control the world, and you are not in my arms. ~ Adrienne Rich

There was a present on the front seat of Ethan's car, a Gap box tied with a white ribbon. "Happy birthday, Jenna," Ethan said, leaning over to kiss me, his lips cool from the iced chai he stopped for every morning. I opened the box and pulled out an orange sweater with a cream-colored stripe down the arms.
"Thank you. I love it."
"I know," he said, pulling away from the curb. "That's what you said when you handed it to me at the store and told me to get it for your birthday."
"I'm sorry," I said, holding the sweater in my lap. I knew he was just teasing, but I wanted to be the kind of person who could enjoy surprises. I wanted to be as spontaneous and free as everyone else seemed to be and not feel all the time like if I didn't follow some kind of specific map of daily life, disaster would be right there waiting. "I just...really liked it."
"And wanted to make sure you got it," he said, smiling. "So basically you're greedy."
"Basically. ~ Sara Zarr

To feel your arms around me ... to feel your breath on my neck ... is pleasure in itself. It is home. ~ Faye Hall

I am very thankful that man took one look at me showing with a baby coming along, with my hair falling down, and the broom lying at a mound of broken glass, and supper boiling over on the stove, April wearing a dirty pinafore screaming for me to hold her, and just then the baby in my arms spit up all over me, and he said, You know ... I'd be kindly obliged if you'd let me have supper some other time. ~ Nancy E. Turner

Where are you going?"
He looked over his shoulder at me. "If I stay, you won't get any sleep."
"Stay," I said. "I promise to keep my hands to myself." Lie - such an outright lie.
He gave me a half smile that told me he knew it, too, but nestled down, tugging me into his arms. I wrapped an arm around his waist and rested my head in the hollow of his shoulder.
He idly stroked my hair. I didn't want to sleep - didn't want to lose a minute with him - but an immense exhaustion was pulling me away from consciousness, until all I knew was the touch of his fingers in my hair and the sounds of his breathing. ~ Sarah J. Maas

[Elisabeth Woodville] doesn't take up arms to get her own way. But she is just as resolute as either Joan [of Arc] or Magaret [D'Anjou] about getting what she wants. What does she use instead? She uses sexuality.
You may ask, what is wrong with that? Women have been using their sexuality to get what they want from time immemorial (...). And if there is no other way to exert power, then to use your will to procure your will is probably a good idea.

However, if what you are implicitly promising (...) is not actually what you want to do, and in order to deliver you must separate yourself from yourself, then it does have its shortcomings as a negotiating tool. You pay a price; you separate yourself from your body. I say this from a woman's point of view. (...) And, as some of my young feminist friends have pointed out, you cannot change a corrupt system by using its own tools ~ Tina Packer

You've been a really good friend to me, Richard. And I've sort of got to quite like having you around. Please don't go.' He squeezed her hand in his gently. 'Well,' he said, 'I've sort of got to quite like having you around, too. But I don't belong in this world. In my London...well, the most dangerous thing you ever have to watch out for is a taxi in a bit of a hurry. I like you too. I like you an awful lot. But I have to go home.' She looked up at him with her odd-coloured eyes, green and blue and flame. 'Then we won't ever see each other again,' she said. 'I suppose we won't' 'Thanks for everything you did,' she said, seriously. Then she threw her arms around him, and she squeezed him tightly enough that the bruises on his ribs hurt, and he hugged her back, just as tightly, making all his bruises complain violently, and he simply didn't care. ~ Neil Gaiman

The urge to wrap my arms around her and promise that everything will be all right. I don't think she has anyone in her life who does that for her. ~ Emma Chase

Wow," he muttered, his voice choked with tears. "Here we are, the last night and all, and I can't think of anything to say."
I pressed my palm to his cheek, feeling the moisture beneath my fingers, and smiled at him. "How about 'goodbye'?"
"Nah." Puck shook his head. "I make a point of never saying goodbye, princess. Makes it sound like you're never coming back."
"Puck - "
He bent down and kissed me softly on the lips. Ash stiffened, arms tightening around me, but Puck slid out of reach before either of us could react. "Take care of her, ice-boy," he said, smiling as he backed up several paces. "I guess I won't be seeing you, either, will I? It was ... fun, while it lasted."
"I'm sorry we didn't get to kill each other," Ash said quietly.
Puck chuckled and bent to retrieve his fallen dagger. "My one and only regret. Too bad, that would have been an epic fight." Straightening, he gave us that old, stupid grin, raising a hand in farewell. "See you around, lovebirds. ~ Julie Kagawa

If you were alone when you were born, alone when you were dying, really absolutely alone when you were dead, why "learn to be alone" in between? If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you. Aloneness was like riding a bike. At gunpoint. With the gun in your own hand. Aloneness was the air in your tires, the wind in your hair. You didn't have to go looking for it with open arms. With open arms, you fell off the bike: I was drinking my wine too quickly. ~ Lorrie Moore

What're you doing?" I threw my arms around his neck, securing myself to him.
"I'm carrying you home," he said firmly, his voice shaken.
"But it's two more blocks. You can't carry me that far," I argued.
"I can and I will," he insisted. "Let me help you Beth, please."
Instantly I relaxed into his arms. It may have been my lack of options, or that I felt weak in the knees every time he said my name; either way, I didn't argue. I knew I was safe with him. ~ Anne Carol

I was sucked in by the blackness of her eyes. I was pulled under as she sank mercifully deep. I imagined her whole body playing inside mine, writhing up and down as I was filled and emptied. My deepest fire ignited then raged and finally exploded. My eyes were open when it happened. Nikki thundered down on me and rocked me in her arms until I stopped shaking. There was nothing more to save and nothing more to give. That sacred part of my soul was now and forever hers. ~ Giselle Fox

Don't cry."
"How can I not?" I asked him. "You just said you loved me."
"Well, why else did you think all of this was happening?" He set the book aside to wrap his arms around me. "The Furies wouldn't be trying to kill you if I didn't love you."
"I didn't know," I said. Tears were trickling down my cheeks, but I did nothing to try to stop them. His shirt was absorving most of them. "You never said anything about it. Every time I saw you, you just acted so ... wild."
"How was I supposed to act?" he asked. "You kept doing things like throwing tea in my face. ~ Meg Cabot

Was it really my own, that image glimpsed in a flash? Am I really like that, from the outside, when - all the while living - I do not think of myself? For others, then, I am that stranger whom I surprised in a mirror; I am he and not the I whom I know; I am that one there whom I myself at first, upon becoming aware of him, did not recognize. I am that stranger whom I am unable to see living except like that, in a thoughtless second. A stranger whom others alone can see and know, not I. ~ Luigi Pirandello

We could just chill if you want."
Emma raises a brow at Rachel. Rachel shrugs her innocence. "Nuh-uh. Don't look at me. I didn't teach him that."
"Picked it up all on my own," he says, retrieving his pencil from the floor.
"Figures," Emma sneers.
"Aww, don't hate on me, boo."
"Okay, I'm drawing the line at 'boo.' And don't call me 'shorty' either," Emma says.
He laughs. "That was next."
"No doubt. So, did anyone explain how you chill?"
Galen shrugs. "As far as I can tell, chillin' is the equivalent of being in a coma, only awake."
"That's about right."
"Yeah. Doesn't sound that appealing. Are all humans lazy?"
"Don't push it, Highness." But she's smirking.
"If I'm Highness, then you're 'boo.' Period."
Emma growls, but it doesn't sound as fierce as she intends. In fact, it's adorable. "Jeez! I won't call you Majesty either. And you Will. Not. Ever Call me 'boo' again."
His grin feels like it reaches all the way to his ears as he nods. "Did...did I just win an argument?"
She rolls her eyes. "Don't be stupid. We tied."
He laughs. "If you say I won, I'll let you open your present."
She glances at the gift bag and bites her lip-also adorable. She looks back at him. "Maybe I don't care about the present."
"Oh, you definitely care," he says, confident.
"No. I definitely do NOT," she says, crossing her arms.
He runs a hand through his hair. If she makes it any more difficult, he'll hav ~ Anna Banks

There is also the fact that red and gold are my colors," he went on. "They are the colors on my family's banners and devices, worn by all Chiavari males when they ride into battle, and worn by their ladies at tournaments or other important occasions. You can imagine my surprise when a lady wearing Chiavari colors fell into my arms inside a drafty castle in England."
"I doubt the color of my gown was the first thing you noticed," she teased.
"No, that was not the first thing I noticed." His voice had gone soft with the memory. The first thing he had noticed was how right she had felt in his arms, the realization that his arms had been empty until that moment when he found what belonged there, who belonged there. ~ Elizabeth Elliott

When I see a train, I want to take it in my arms. ~ Raymond Pettibon

In the same vein, Rupert knew that he'd found his own ideal match,too. He just couldn't imagine how he was going to convince her of it.
But that wasn't what he was thinking about on the ride home. Unable to take his eyes off of his wife,he said, "There's something about riding in a coach with you that drives me crazy."
Rebecca's dark blue eyes flared, but she didn't protest when he moved across to her seat and gathered her into his arms. Catching his wife off guard did have its advantages, which was fortunate, because she really did inflame his passions without even trying. One heady taste of her and most of his control was gone.
"Could it be because we nearly made love in this coach before?" he said against her lips. "Or could it be because I suspect you were sitting here earlier tonight thinking of me with my breeches off?"
Rebecca gasped but he just thrust his tongue deeply inside her until she no longer seemed to feel like upbraiding him for that teasing remark. He loved teasing her. It was too bad she was rarely in a mood for it.
Unfortunately,she didn't let his remark go unanswered, though they were nearly home before she pulled away from his arms to say breathlessly, "I was doing nothing of the sort. ~ Johanna Lindsey

Just wondering why I feel so all alone, why I'm a stranger in my own? ~ Sheryl Crow

He's kissing me and though this is the first time, it feels like recovering a long-forgotten memory. My body seems to say, "Yes, this," and then I'm kissing him back as if I were born to be in his arms. I never realized how tightly guilt and fear had been wound about me until this moment, when they unwind into the air and fly away, leaving me with nothing but this guileless delight. ~ Rosamund Hodge

Holding Naoko in my arms, I wanted to explain to her, I am having intercourse with you now. I am inside you. But this is really nothing. It doesn't matter. It is nothing but the joining of two bodies. All we are doing is telling each other things that can only be told by the rubbing together of two imperfect lumps of flesh. By doing this, we are sharing our imperfection. ~ Haruki Murakami

I felt that the success of the enterprise was in my hands: the moment had an obscure meaning which had to be trimmed and perfected ; certain motions had to be made, certain words spoken : I staggered under the weight of my responsibility. I started and saw nothing, I struggled in the midst of rites which were invented on the spot and tore them to shreds with my strong arms. At those times she hated me. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Once I had her clean, I wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the bed. A small red bloodstain was on the sheets, and again the possessive monster inside me threw back his head and roared his pleasure. I stood there holding her and letting the proof I was the only man to be inside her wash over me.
Blythe turned her head, and I felt her stiffen in my arms. "Oh, I can clean that up," she said, starting to wiggle.
I pulled her tighter to my chest. "No. I'm going to dry you off and hold you some more. I like seeing that blood. I did that," The pleasure in my voice made Blythe smile. ~ Abbi Glines