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The Singles Table

Book by Sara Desai · 28 quotes · Hot Sex, Matchmaking, Admittance

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The Singles Table Quotes

“I don't give my secrets away for free." He slid one hand around her waist, pulling her close. Zara melted against him, hands sliding up and over his shoulders. "Will you tell me for a kiss?" "Possibly." He drew his finger down, following the edge of her top where it dipped low between her breasts. Her skin was soft, her perfume so lush and sensual it clouded his senses. She leaned up, feathered kisses along his jaw. "Can it be now?" He meant to give her a soft kiss, a gentle kiss, testing the waters to see if she truly wanted to come on this ride with him. But the moment their lips met, something snapped inside him. Four days of longing and fantasies. A lifetime of loneliness. A need so fierce, he twisted his hand in her hair and claimed her mouth in a fury of passion and desire. Zara groaned and melted against him. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, taste the sweetness of chocolate in her mouth. Never comfortable with public displays of affection, he didn't care if the entire world saw them so long as she kept kissing him and never stopped.”

KissingPassionateSexual Attraction
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“Just a kiss." He traced the curve of her jaw, a feather-light touch over soft skin. "One kiss." She bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire. "No one has ever asked to kiss me. It usually just happens. We're talking on the couch or lying on the bed and then our faces move closer and I know we're going to kiss. My heart starts to pound in anticipation and I hold my breath and..." "Shhhh." He slid his hand around her neck and pushed himself up so he could clearly see her face. "Is it now?" she whispered. "Yes. It's now." He kissed her gently, softly, pressing his lips against the soft bow of her mouth. Everything stilled, the sounds of the emergency room fading away beneath the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. With a sigh, she opened to him, stealing his breath with the slow sweep of her tongue. Abandoning himself to the sweetness of her mouth, he pulled her on top of him, palms skimming her lush curves, fingers sinking into the silk of her hair. Her scent, the soft moans and panting breaths, the tremble of her body, the white-hot heat that blazed between them. It was too much and not enough.”

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“She's after you," Zara blurted out, putting to one side for later consideration the fact he knew her so well. "You probably don't even realize it because you don't speak bitch." Jay's voice took on a deep, steady warmth that made Zara's knees weak. "There's only one woman I want." "I hope it's me or someone's getting a four-inch stiletto through the throat," she muttered under her breath.”

JealousyHands OffMy ManBloodthirsty
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“Should I also be glad of our unwanted guest?" "Unwanted?" Her eyes widened as her voice rose. "She's the goddess of love, fertility, beauty, and desire. Who could be more perfect for a wedding? Although..." She tapped her lush lips, considering. "She does have a bad side, but you can't blame her. Who wouldn't have issues if you'd been born from the sea foam created from Uranus's blood after his youngest son, Cronus, castrated him and threw his genitals into the sea?" The woman in pink choked on her food. The man with the goatee barked a laugh. Jay crossed his legs, although his family jewels weren't under threat. "She also had many adulterous affairs," Zara continued to her now rapt audience of singles. "Most notable with Ares. So maybe cutting off her head is a good thing." She lifted a forkful of biryani. "Did you know her name gave us the word aphrodisiac? Or that her Latin name, Venus, gave us the word venereal for venereal dis----" Jay cut her off with a raised hand. "Not something I really wanted to think about over a meal.”

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“He unfastened his pants and shrugged off his shirt, baring his beautiful chest, the ripple of his abs, and the soft trail of hair leading below. "I was saving the best for last." He ground his palm over his erection. "Tease." She couldn't tear her eyes away. "Take it all off." "You're not in a position to make demands." But he didn't make her wait. Instead he lowered his zipper and pulled out his cock. Thick and hard, he was more than ready for her. "Do you want this, sweetheart?" She wasn't complaining about the term of endearment now. "Very much." He gave a casual shrug that belied the evidence of his desire. "Maybe when I've finished my search." "What else..." Her voice trailed off when he lay between her legs, slid off her panties, and placed her feet on his shoulders. "The best things are found in the most secret places." He lowered his head. His tongue did the most wicked things that had her arching and twisting on the bed. "Jay..." It was a plea. It was a demand. "That's Mr. Dayal to you." Without warning, he slid two fingers deep inside her, his firm steady strokes making all her nerve endings fire at once. His tongue found her sensitive clit and her inner walls tightened around his fingers. She soared and peaked, her orgasm crashing through her body in a tidal wave of sensation. Dazed, languid on the bed, she watched him shrug off his trousers and roll on a condom. "Did you find what you were looking for?" "Not yet." He lifted her legs, spread them wide, opening her for him as he positioned himself between her thighs. "You're very good at your job." Now that her body was sated, she was generous with her praise. "And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.”

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“So what kind of woman are you looking for? Let me guess. Professional. Sophisticated. Classy. Intelligent. Basically, Lucia but younger, or do you like a little Mrs. Robinson between the sheets?" She took another bite of her hot dog. Was there any better food? "My relationship with Lucia is strictly professional, but yes, I'd be interested in someone similar." "So, you want a mini-me," she teased. "I mean a mini-you. Not me. Obviously. Lucia is pretty much the opposite of me, which is another reason I knew that job wouldn't work out." "You have ketchup on your cheek." He took a napkin and gently dabbed it at the corner of her mouth. Desire flooded her veins followed by a wave of desolation. She could easily fall for a man like Jay. Smart, handsome, ambitious, successful, and yet she sensed a longing in him, a secret Jay waiting to be free. "Is it gone?" Her voice came out in a whisper. He leaned in and studied her with a serious intensity that took her breath away. He was so close she could see the gentle dip of his chin, the dark stubble of his five-o'clock shadow even though it couldn't be much past four o'clock. His lips were firm and soft, his mouth the perfect size for kissing. She drew in his scent: pine and mountains and the rich, earthy scent of the soil she'd turned in the garden when her family was whole and she never had to wonder whose house she was in when she woke up in the morning.”

AttractionMatchmaking
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“The human equivalent of a succulent would be best." Jay leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "You want to match me up with a succulent?" "A human succulent. Prickly. Resilient. Able to survive hot climates, cold temperaments, and emotional drought. Sprinkle a few e-mails on her, maybe buy her a lunch, and that should keep her going through the long cold months." "You think I'm hot," he said, his voice smug. For some reason her opinion mattered to him, all the negativity aside.”

AdmittanceMatchmakingSucculent
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“Zara turned in his arms. "What can I do to help?" He let out a shuddering breath. "You can go find yourself a guy who's not all messed up." "I kinda like this guy." She leaned up to kiss his cheek. "If you hadn't noticed, messed up is my specialty." His hand slid under her nightshirt and he stroked the curve of her hip. "I need you." "I was hoping you'd say that." She drew his hand down to her lace-covered rear. "I've been wearing special panties every night in case you did.”

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“So, what's your poison, Jay?" Zara joined the buffet line a few minutes later. "Let me guess. Something dark and spicy that packs a lot of heat. Maybe a rista? Or a naga curry?" She studied him, shaking her head. "Hmmm. Not so exotic. I think you're more of a vindaloo. Rich and complicated with hidden depths. Every bite satiates your taste buds and leaves you craving more." Unsettled by her seemingly casual yet unnervingly accurate assessment, he turned his attention to filling his plate from the lavish spread.”

FlavorPreferenceIndian FoodSpicy FoodYou Are What You Eat
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“She came by this morning to drop off a meal for Sunday dinner because she's going away on a day trip, and decided to stay and prepare enough food for a family of ten: paneer tikka, dahi bhalla chaat, rajma masala, dal makhani, vegetable korma, chicken karahi, two types of biryani, mango cheesecake..." He trailed off when Zara laughed. "I guess you won't be ordering in for a while." "She was hoping I would have a guest." He hesitated, not wanting to scare her away, but also not wanting to let her go. "Are you free tonight?" "You had me at 'enough food for a family of ten' but I would have been knocking on your door for a slice of mango cheesecake.”

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“There were groans---his---and moans---hers---and cool hands under his shirt, nails scraping against his skin, zings of electricity along his nerves, clothes tearing... "Not here." Her words. Because if he had his way, she'd already be naked and the limo driver would have been handsomely paid to take a coffee break somewhere far away. He had a vision of himself pushing her onto the seat, flipping up that pretty skirt, and hammering into her until they both shattered in ecstasy and she screamed his name. Had he spoken those words out loud? "Law...Indecent exposure..." Words he didn't understand except they meant more waiting when he ached to his hands on her, strip her naked, and make all his fantasies come true. Insatiable, he tore open her top and flicked the catch on her bra, freeing her breasts from their restraint. Beautiful. Round and firm. Nipples hardened to deliciously dark peaks. He drew one into his mouth, licked and sucked until she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair until pain merged with pleasure, and he couldn't think beyond doing it again.”

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“Nails scraping down his chest, yanking on his belt. His cock hard and pulsing in anticipation. "How much longer?" Fingers stroking. Hands in his boxers. The mind-numbing pleasure of her palm in his shaft. Time didn't matter. The need to have her was fierce and intense, demanding instant satisfaction. He wanted her. Here. Now. Hidden by blacked-out windows in the dead of night. With rough hands, he shoved her skirt over her hips. Red silk panties. Teasing. Tantalizing. "Tear them off." Her urgency pleased him, called to the animal frenzy of his lust. "Law? Indecent exposure?" "Fuck it." Her panties rendered with a soft whimper, fluttered to the floor. Soft and dark her secrets beckoned. He parted her folds and sank a thick finger deep inside her wet center. She gasped, arched against him. He gave her another finger, his free hand in her hair, holding her still, baring her neck for the heated slide of his lips. A third finger. Gentle strokes. Hungry kisses. His thumb stroked over her swollen nub. A guttural groan and she came, her inner walls tightening around him. Dazed, languid, she collapsed forward against his chest. He hissed in a breath when the down between her legs brushed against his cock.”

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“She moved back to accommodate him as he rolled on a condom. Then she stroked and squeezed until rational thought was a distant memory and all that was left were need and want, lust and desire. He dragged her up, claiming her mouth as he thrust inside her. Pleasure so exquisite, he closed his eyes and tried to take a mental snapshot of the moment. Bracing herself on his shoulders she rode him, levering her hips as she brought him closer and closer to his peak. Control. He needed it. In one swift motion he shifted, carrying her down so she lay beneath him, clothes half off, hair tangled, lips swollen from his kisses, wanton and free. Lifting her legs to his hips, he thrust into her. Slick walls tightened, made his eyes water. His hips pistoned, driving deep until pleasure peaked and they both found release.”

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“His hand slid down between her legs, finger stroking her clit. Demanding and teasing. Together the dual sensations left her blazing with need. Relentless, his fingers spread her moisture, circling around and around the place she desperately wanted them to go, until her muscles were tense and quivering and she was shaking with desire. When she thought she couldn't take any more, he pushed back, shoving her legs apart, and positioned himself at her entrance. "Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" "Yes." She liked to be his sweetheart. Even if it was just for the night. But talk was cheap and her body was hot and aching. She'd been ready for him since the moment she'd jerked awake. Bracing himself on her headboard, he thrust inside her. Stilled. Shuddered. Only then did she realize how badly he needed this, needed her. She opened her mouth to speak, but he pushed deeper, filling her completely. His muscles quivered with every thrust. Faster. Harder. Her mind calmed and she gave herself over to the frenzy of passion, meeting his every stroke with a rock of her hips, riding the tidal wave of sensation until it swept her up and carried her away.”

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“He gave her a slow, sensual smile and released her long enough to grab a condom and sheathe himself. "Open for me, sweetheart." His voice deepened, husky and low, with a delicious hint of rough. She did as he asked, anticipation curling in her belly. Jay knew what he was doing in bed and she liked him taking the lead. Instead of wondering what came next and where she should touch and what he might like, she could just let go. Feel instead of think. Calm the frenetic activity in her mind. He kissed his way down her body, his heated breath sending ripples of electricity over her skin. His hand touched between her thighs and he spread her moisture, gently teasing. When his finger brushed over her clitoris, the spark of sensation sent a flush of heat through her veins.”

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“His face softened and he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Dark and dirty, hot and horny, sweet and utterly seductive. Damn, the man could kiss. "I want you inside me." She swallowed hard. "I want...you." "You have me---all of me." He pushed deep, filling her, stretching her, making her feel every inch of him. His smoldering eyes watched her intently, sending a current of need arrowing straight to her core. When she moaned, he moved his hips in just the right way to hit her most sensitive spot. Pleasure licked through her body and she surged toward the peak. "Don't stop." "No chance of that." His gaze didn't leave hers as he pulled out and thrust again, his hips moving hard and fast, arms braced on either side of her. The world fell away until there was only Jay, his scent, his heat, his muscles tightening and releasing, and his eyes locked on her like she truly was the most beautiful woman in the world. Heart-squeezing tenderness and wild heat. She came in a roll of pleasure, a soul-deep release as she let herself go. Jay followed her with a quiet shudder that ripped the tension out of his muscular body with a groan. "Fuck." He fell forward, his body covering hers, taking his weight on his elbows beside her. Small kisses to her lips made her feel seen and not forgotten. "We just did." She looked up to her hands and he released them with one tug. "Touch me, sweetheart. I want to feel your hands on me." She held him close for what seemed like forever, breathing in his scent of sex and sweat and the lingering hint of his cologne.”

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“Without warning, Jay reached over and grabbed her belt. With a hard yank, he pulled her toward him. Her robe slid up her thighs and Zara licked her lips in shameless hunger. Did he know how wet she was? How her breasts ached? How desperately she wanted him? Jay gave a satisfied growl, holding her in place. "The law requires your consent for a search." He pulled her closer, his gaze hot and roaming. "I have to warn you. I am very thorough." "I have nothing to hide." She was burning. Liquid fire rushed through her veins, pooling between her legs. It was like Jay had plucked her deepest darkest fantasies from her mind and was making them all come true. He gave a small, calculating smile. "I don't leave anything untouched, sweetheart." "I'm not your sweetheart." "You will be when I'm done with you." He devoured her with his gaze, his eyes so dark they were almost black. "Robe off. I need to assess the search area." She slid the robe over her arms and lay back on the bed. "How's this?" He inhaled sharply, his gaze raking over her body, and then again more slowly in blatant sexual appraisal. "I see you've decided to make things difficult, but I can't be distracted." "I'm not afraid of you." She arched her back, parted her legs just enough to tease. Did he think he was the one in control? "You should be." His voice dropped to a husky growl.”

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“He was a captain in the air force, and now he is CEO of a security company. I didn't have time to find out more about him, but I'm sure he can tell you anything you need to know." A wave of nausea crashed through Zara's gut when she recalled their conversation in the bar. I'll bet he's one of those wannabe military types who spends his weekends playing paintball with his geek friends, pretending he's the real deal. What had she been thinking? But that was the problem. She was always living in the moment, not thinking at all. "Thank you for your service," she mumbled, her cheeks burning. She could only hope he'd been as drunk as she'd been and didn't remember the slight. "Pleasure." The deep rumble of his voice made her toes curl. "I'm the real deal, after all.”

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“If he was a car he'd be a Lamborghini Huracán Evo," Zara mused. "Pure combustive drama, traffic-stopping looks, and a wild, unfettered soul hidden beneath sensational styling." Zara loved sports cars, not only for their mouthwatering designs but also for the speeds that could take her breath away. "I think he has hidden depths. If he wasn't so grumpy, he'd be intriguing.”

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“You testified that your son was drafted for the NFL," Zara said, the tone of her voice changing from demanding to conversational. "Did he get his love of the sport from you?" "I played in college," the witness said. "Wide receiver. I was a lock for a top-ten draft selection until I tore a ligament and that was the end for me." "You must have caught some good ones in your time." Now her voice was all warmth and sympathy, tinged with awe. The witness's eyes grew misty. "I miss those days." Plaintiff's counsel objected on the basis of irrelevance, and the judge sustained. Zara walked back to her table and consulted her notes. Was that it? He'd been expecting some theatrics, a smoking gun, or even a witness reduced to tears. Even without any legal training, he could see her cross-examination hadn't elicited any particularly useful information, and yet she didn't seem perturbed. Zara bent down to grab something from her bag. "Hut!" She spun around and threw a foam football at the plaintiff, her shout echoing through the courtroom, freezing everyone in place. The plaintiff shot out of his seat and took two steps to the side, hands in the air. "I got it. I got it." With a jump he grabbed the football and held it up, victorious. His smile faded as he stared at the stunned crowd, clearly realizing what he'd just done. "Objection." Plaintiff's counsel glared at Zara. "What was that?" "I believe it's called a Hail Mary pass." Zara smiled at the judge. "No further questions.”

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“Time to change, ladies." The stranger's deep, penetrating voice rumbled through Zara's body. Rich and full, it was the kind of voice that made lawyers spill milkshakes and babble incoherently as they thrust sticky business cards into celebrity hands. "Is there a problem?" Parvati made a show of inspecting her weapon while Zara tried to untie her tongue. Although she couldn't see the dude's face, he was tall---at least six-two---and powerfully built, the top of his coveralls unzipped and tied around his narrow waist. His black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and magnificent pecs as if it had been painted on his muscular body. One thick, deeply tanned forearm bunched and flexed as he unholstered his weapon in one smooth practiced motion.”

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