#rot

A 'very good friend' is a dangerous category with Indian girls. From here you can either make fast progress or if you play it wrong, you can go down to the lowest category invented by the Indian women ever - rakhi brother. Rakhi brother really means 'you can talk to me, but don't even freaking think about anything else you bore'. ↗

— Chetan Bhagat

#rakhi-brother #humor

You asked me in Paris how many women I'd loved. I said one. I should have said two." He cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. "As a child I loved my mother, and as a man I love you. ↗

— Kitty French

#romance #love

I want you to channel Jessica Rabbit and give him a show. ↗

— Gina L. Maxwell

#gina-l-maxwell #seducing-cinderella #love

The back is one of my favorite parts of a woman’s body. I love to trace and lick the shallow line of her spine, from the top and all the way down to the twin dimples at the base of her lower back. ↗

— Gina L. Maxwell

#gina-l-maxwell #seducing-cinderella #love

I wasn’t sure if I was charmed by his reluctance to share a bed with a girl or insulted that, apparently, I wasn’t hot enough for him to charge the mattress like a bull. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#humor #sam-roth #humor

Tohr took a pull of his beer. “What the hell is this?” “When Harry Met Sally.” Tohr lowered the longneck from his mouth. “What?” “Shut it. After this, we’re going to watch an episode of Moonlighting. Then An Affair to Remember—the old-school one, not that stupidity with Warren Beatty. Then The Princess Bride—” Tohr hit the switch by his hip and straightened the chair up. “Okay. Right. Have fun with this— ↗

— J.R. Ward

#humor #lassiter #tohrment #humor

Fine!' she snapped, the desperation to have him growing exponentially now. 'I missed you. Only you. No man could ever make me feel like you do. I'm ruined for all others. I renamed all my vibrators after you and none of them get me off like you can. Happy now?' His eyes glazed for a second. '*All* your vibrators?' -Convicted ↗

— Dee Tenorio

#humor #romance #humor

She couldn’t take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. Candles should be used for meditation…for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least. So where was the cake? The present? The song? As he stepped closer to her—as the damned flame got way too close—she started singing. “Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…” Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. See. I knew he didn’t have a sense of humor. “Happy birthday, dear Gabi”—she lifted her head and blew out the candle—“happy birthday to me. ↗

— Cherise Sinclair

#erotica #make-me-sir #humor

My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He'll tread his galloping rigadoon In the pathway of the morrows. He'll live his days where the sunbeams start, Nor could storm or wind uproot him. My own dear love, he is all my heart, -- And I wish somebody'd shoot him. ↗

— Dorothy Parker

#humor #men #poetry #humor

Watch over Honoria, will you? See that she doesn’t marry an idiot. ↗

— Julia Quinn

#friends #humor #love #humor