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Quote by Kristen Ashley

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Motorcycle Man

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Kristen Ashley
Kristen Ashley

Kristen Ashley is a renowned American author, born on April 8, 1968. She is known for her romantic novels that have captivated readers with their heartfelt and engaging storytelling. more

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“Baby,” his voice gentled, “this is me seein’ to that soft spot when I say quiet-like that I... will... be... there... in ten. And what I mean is, when I get there in ten, your ass better be there.” Oh boy. “Are you coming on your bike?” “Yeah.” “I’m in a tight, short, little aquamarine dress with high heels. I can’t get on a bike. “You’re in a tight, short dress and high heels?” Tack asked. “Yes.” “I’ll be in there in five.”

“Oh," I whispered. "Fuck, I'm not even close." "To what?" "The heart of you. You run so fuckin' deep, I'll never get there." God. "Lookin' forward to a lifetime of diggin', babe." God! "Now you're being sweet," I accused, my voice wobbly. "Used to it yet?" "No." "You got a lifetime to get there too." Seriously. I could take no more. "Shut up." "I will, you kiss me." "Rush and/or Tabby might be here any minute." "I didn't tell you to go down on me.”

“You have no clue," he whispered. "No clue about what?" I whispered back. "What you handed me last night." I took in a deep breath and asked softly, "What did I hand you, honey?" "What's lyin' in that bed." That was when I stopped breathing. "I claimed it," he went on. "But last night you gave it to me. Gift's given, no takin' it back. You get that, Tyra?" "I think so," I whispered. "Get that, baby, it's important.”

“Got it all scheduled,” he noted. “Yes,” I returned. “What’s a huge-ass wedding?” “Don’t ask that,” I advised. “Just show up.” His grin turned wicked and I liked it. That was, I liked it until he enquired, “You askin’ me to marry you, Red?” I wasn’t even sipping coffee and, still, I chocked. Then I pushed out, “What?” “I accept.” I shook my head and kept shaking it when I requested clarification, “Let me get this straight. Did you just accept my non-marriage offer?” “Non-marriage?” “I didn’t ask!” My voice was rising. “So you just wanna shack up?” he asked but didn’t wait on my answer. “I’m good with that too.” Gah! “I’m getting my huge-ass wedding,” I declared. “So you are askin’ me to marry you,” he noted. Gah! Gah! Gah!! Sharp as a tack. Someone kill me.”

“Not liking that," I clipped and his brows went up again. "Are you shittin' me?" "No!" I cried. "I deserve to be wooed!" "Right, then I'll amend my statement. I'll woo you by gettin' you off as many times as I can with my mouth, fingers and cock, cookin' for you when I have time, not firin' your ass when you fuck shit up, which is often, and puttin' up with your bullshit. Bullshit like now when you're playin' even more games because you know I like it when you also know what you really wanna do is kiss me." "Actually, handsome, I don't want to kiss you. I want to kick you." His smile came back. "Bullshit games.”