Quotes by Amy Andrews

Sex was a happiness transaction. And rugby had given Linc the means to feel very happy, very often.

It was the kind of mouth that should only be found on angels. Chick angels.

Probably just as well. Maybe with all that testosterone walking out the door, the insane urge to hump Lincoln Quinn’s leg would walk right out as well. Because that was exactly how she felt every time she looked at him.Like she was in heat.Within minutes, the restaurant had emptied out to only a few non-team wedding guests. Her nemesis was nowhere to be seen, and Em congratulated herself on her self-control as she eased off the bar stool.Embarrassing leg-humping avoided—bravo!

Linc had always been a leg man. Thankfully hers made up for her caustic tongue and armour plated panties

Talk to me when your nuts are so blue they look like something you can hang on a Christmas tree.

This was Linc at his most elemental. This was cave man stuff. Potently male. Potently virile. Hot. As. Fuck.

His aftershave – eau du sex god - wafted her way.

He hadn’t struck her as particularly religious unless she counted the number of times he’d called out to Jesus when he’d been deep inside her.

He was stretched out like he was her own personal playground and she wanted to ride on his equipment for a bit longer.

If I’d known a sixty-niner was the way to your heart I would have done it weeks ago.

You’re a gambling man, right? Or do you only bet on frivolous things like poker and fucking women?

Why do men always have such high opinions of their cock?

He’d gone too far. He didn’t usually talk to women so frankly. Not with them both fully clothed anyway.

You do know I’m not psychic, right?’Dash looked down at her. ‘Joy...you do know that normal people don’t see ghosts, right?

Dash shoved his hands on his hips and looked down into the bowl. ‘You gave my fish pink rocks?’ he said as he turned to face her.Joy shrugged. ‘I didn’t really look at the colour I just grabbed the nearest bag.’‘It had to be pink?’‘There’s some blue as well.’He looked into the bowl again. ‘Not really.’Joy couldn’t believe she was having a conversation about pink rocks when the bigger question of what the hell he’d found out about the robberies was still unanswered. ‘You think it’s going to turn Ralph gay?’ she asked sweetly. ‘Given that he’s living his life out solo it’s kind of a moot question, don’t you think?’‘You’re right, I think he needs a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.’‘With those rocks? I think he needs Fishtank Barbie in there.’‘Is your masculinity threatened because your fish has pink rocks?’Dash folded his arms. ‘He’s a bloke. He doesn’t do pink.’Joy glanced at the bowl. ‘It works,’ she said. ‘It...blends.’‘He’s orange,’ Dash said. ‘Since when have pink and orange gone together?

There was nothing like the cold, heavy steel of a gun, the soft moan of an appreciative woman or the sharp burn of a good single malt to make a man grateful to be alive. Tonight, with his gun gone and his sex life a wasteland, Dash had to settle for whiskey.

A woman could do a lot of crazy things for a pair of fine-looking dimples.

Love is a risk. It always is. None of us is guaranteed a long life. But love takes courage.

I love you like the woman I am now. Not the girl I was. I’m battered and bruised and I’m tougher, but I’m still here. I’m scared to death, but I’m more frightened of a life without you.

You have no idea how dirty I can play.” He laughed. “Bring. It. On.