Quotes About Hands On Hips

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Quotes About Hands On Hips

Martin ONeill, standing, hands on hips, stroking his chin.
— Mike Ingham —

She jammed both hands to her hips, grinding her boots to the linoleum. "You are so rigid, it's infuriating!"
Noah's ear-to-ear smile froze the breath right to her lungs. "I know, but you're really cute when you're irritated, and it's kind of worth pissing you off."
Violet nearly lost her death grip on the peas. "You think I'm cute?

— Kimberly Kincaid

Hands on hips, she cast him a narrowed-eye gaze. "Move."
"You're not leaving."
"And you're not stopping me.

— Lia Davis

And the kids?"
"Quincy, nothing. All she wants to do is look for Saturn's rings and bring home every creature from the pound. Nelson, though, he's ... " She looked at Nicholas. "He's like you. Gifted, but ignorant."
Nicholas bristled, "I'm not ignorant."
"You are about magic."
"That's because I don't believe in magic."
"Nicholas," She stopped, hands on hips, waiting until he turned around. "You're haunted. You see the dead. How can you not believe in magic?

— Stephen M. Irwin

Still, he moved slowly, taking his time as much to prolong this moment as to gauge her reaction. He laid his hands on her hips as the rain beat and splashed, sliding them up her body, smooth and sexy as he lowered his head, paused - one long breath - then fit his mouth to hers. This, he thought as the took her face in his hands. Just this, so worth the wait. Soft, sweet, a yielding tremor, and her arms came up to wrap around his waist, to draw him into her.

— Nora Roberts

You have two choices," Vance said.
I stopped in the doorway to the hall and put my hands on my hips.
"And those would be?" I asked.
"We can talk or we can f**k."
My eyes rounded. Then they narrowed. I didn't answer.
"Though," he went on, "I should tell you even if you pick talking, after we're done, we're still gonna f**k."
I frowned at him and leaned in. "You are too much," I snapped.
He ignored my threatening posture. "You don't chose, I will, and I'll pick f**king. We can talk after.

— Kristen Ashley

Here," he growled and I blinked.
"Deacon, I'm not a big fan of-"
"Future," he cut me off. "Assert your feminism when I'm not three seconds away from fuckin' you on your porch. I come to you, that's gonna happen. You come to me, maybe it won't."
Maybe?
I didn't ask that.
I asked , "So if you get your way and I come to you, you can miraculously control your base instincts?"
His reply?
"One."
My body jerked and my brows shot together as the meaning of that word hit me.
"Are you counting down-?"
"Two."
I planted my hands on my hips.
"You are!" I cried angrily. "You're counting-"
"Fuck it," he muttered, took two long strides, and I was in his arms.

— Kristen Ashley

Cambodian dust whipped up in the wind and stuck to my clothes like clay. I put a hand between my face and the sun and blinked Phnom Penn dust from my tired eyes. One idea, drink, beamed light in all directions across my dark consciousness.
A slim lady walked toward me with a big smile and a bigger head. Her left hand rested on her waggling hips and her right hand rose above her head, limp-wristed, like she'd just thrown a winning ball toward a basket and was leaving her hand in the shot position. The lady walking toward me was a man. At least that much was clear, but the nature or our relationship was still a fog to me. She wore blue jeans and a white top accentuating her breasts, but her Adam's apple and cow sized hands revealed more in daylight than she could hide at night.

— Craig Stone

I didn't make it one goddamn block yesterday, Ruby." He swiped an impatient hand through his hair. "Look, we're both stubborn hotheads, and we're going to fight. Early and often. But I will never make it more than one block before I come back. That is my promise to you. And I don't break my promises, either." Hands on hips, he breathed deeply as if attempting to calm himself. "If I let my fear of losing you keep us apart, I get the same damn result. The only way I can fight that fear is if you fight it with me.

— Tessa Bailey

The measuring tape and saw Michael standing alone on the small rise. The man seemed a part of the scenery as he stood, hands on hips, his hair whipped by the wind like the meadowsweet at his feet, his jaw set like the granite rocks. "He must love his job," she said to Bobby. Bobby looked up and followed her gaze to his brother, standing

— Mary Alice Monroe

I looked over at the others. "Anyone have tree-climbing issues?"
Obviously Ash and I didn't. Daniel, Hayley, and Corey said they'd be fine. Chloe hoped she would-she had gymnastics training. Mr. Bae joked that it would be his first time in a couple of decades. Derek said nothing.
"Derek?"
"It looks like I'll be the guy doing the distracting. I'm not trusting a tree branch to hold me."
"You're not playing decoy," Chloe said. She turned to us. "I'm sorry. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but he really can't. The last time we were in a fight against the St. Clouds, the orders were to tranq all of us except Derek. For him, it was shoot to kill. They don't trust werewolves."
"I think they've calmed down," Derek said. "They've been watching us for months and haven't tried to assassinate me yet."
Chloe put her hands on her hips. "And that's your definition of acceptance? Not going out of their way to kill you?"

— Kelley Armstrong

The the uncertainty was dispelled and the melancholy lifted as he saw a familiar stocky figure moving near one of the tents.
"Halt!" he cried out gladly, and a slight pressure with his knees set Tug galloping through the deserted Gathering site. The dog, caught by surprise, barked once, then shot in pursuit like an arrow from a bow.
The grim-faced Ranger straightened from the fire at the sound of his former student's voice. He stood, hands on hips and a frown on his face as Will and Tug careered toward him. But inside, there was a lightening of his heart that he never failed to feel when in Will's company. Not for the first time, the realization hit Halt that Will was no longer a mere boy. No one wore the Silver Oakleaf if he hadn't proven himself to be worthy. Despite himself, he felt a surge of pride.

— John Flanagan

Morelli ran after him, there was a lot of yelling and growling, and Morelli came down empty-handed. "He ate it," Morelli said. I was horrified to the point of gagging. Ranger stared down at his shoe, making a monumental effort not to laugh. And Morelli stood hands on hips, staring at the bloody splotch on his rug.

— Janet Evanovich

Logan took the kiss deeper. He thrust his tongue against hers, plunging into her mouth, just as he'd like to do to her body. All the while she ground her body into his. He fisted the fabric of her dress. In another moment, he'd be tempted to lift the skirt of that dress and take her, right there behind the bushes.
He broke the kiss and tried to regain his control and his breath. That was proving difficult with his hands still on her hips, pressing her close, but he wasn't ready to give up all of their contact quite yet. His gaze met hers. "I should apologize for that."
"Kiss me again and I'll consider forgiving you.

— Cat Johnson

You don't know anything,' she said. 'If you knew one thing about this life you would not think it was so funny.'
Yvette put her hands on her hips. She shook her head slowly. 'Darlin,' she said. 'Life did take its gift back from yu and me in de diffren order, dat's all. Truth to tell, funny is all me got lef wid. An yu, darlin, all yu got lef is paperwork.

— Chris Cleave

The best things about womanhood might possibly even be the conversations. The chatting. The gabbing. The whispering. The hands-on-hips eye-rolling. The yukking-it up.

— Katherine Center

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