A hood made of rough material was thrown over her head and her hands bound before she could scream.
After a moment, she stepped forward and held out her hands to Destiny.
After eating, they walked some more, holding hands.
After enjoying a leisurely lunch at a restaurant on the water, they walked barefoot on the beach holding hands.
Aggravated by her second display of defiance in one night, he crossed to her and planted his hands on either side of her chair, demanding her attention.
Alex exited the stall wiping his hands on the towel and grinning.
Alex placed his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her back.
Alex, staring at his bloody hands after the man ran out the door.
And yet, she still felt his hands on her body, smelled his scent, saw the vision from their touch.
Another image flashed, and Deidre gasped, covering her face with her hands in an effort to block it.
Are you going to let him slip out of your hands or are you going to do something?
At present, they win hands down on "less expensive" and put in a decent showing on a couple more factors.
At the house, she washed her hands, watching the water turn red and swirl down the drain.
Both hands rested in her lap as she studied it for two full rotations.
Burying her face in her hands, she let the sobs rule.
But an immortal's mate was off hands.
Carmen avoided his hands, turning to the closet.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back, quickly sucking in a breath as his warm hands moved inside her dress and gently surrounded her waist.
Cowering in the opposite corner, sat a young lady rocking, with her face in her hands.
Cynthia crossed over to her husband, took his face in her hands and kissed him, hard on the lips.
Cynthia said, from her hands and knees.
Damian rested his hands on her shoulders.
Daniela folded her hands in her lap, her irritation at him replaced by interest.
Darian held out his as well, and Jule took both their hands, at once bombarded with Bianca's cool energy and Darian's hot energy.
Darkyn caught her hands and pushed them down to her side.
Darkyn rested his hands on her hips and drew her into his body.
Darkyn waited beside an open door, hands clasped behind his back in a deceptive display of ease.
Darkyn's hands were clasped behind his back.
Dean asked, with a wave of his hands.
Dean crawled on his hands and knees, peering under the vehicle for Billy's young girlfriend but there was no one else, only a liquor bottle—unlike its victim, unbroken.
Dean decided to take matters into his own hands.
Dean knotted his rope with trembling hands as he looked down on the man nearly directly under him.
Dean said through gritted teeth, his hands beginning to ache against the strain of the tightened rope.
Dean turned at the sound of the shop door opening to see Sheriff Jake Weller standing, hands on hips, staring down at him.
Dean willed his hands to remain in his pockets.
Deidre braced her hands against his chest, tunnel-vision forming.
Deidre lifted the dress with trembling hands.
Deidre put her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing and stepped back to give Wynn room.
Deidre ran her hands over the clothing in the wardrobe, gasping at the sensations.
Deidre rubbed her hands on her legs.
Deidre slumped and held her head up with her hands.
Deidre started down the trail, holding out her hands to the pine trees.
Deidre studied her hands.
Deidre took his face in her hands, hungrily trying to taste more of him as she explored his mouth with fervor.
Deidre wiped her hands on her jeans and sat up straight.
Deidre's mouth was dry and her hands shaking, but she nodded.
Destiny cried harder, clinging to her hands and trying to get back into her arms.
Don't stick your hands outside the cage.
Donnie looked at the impressive impalement and Dean started to show it to him but Claire grabbed it from his hands.
Dozing after his insatiable passion, she roused herself when one of Gabriel's hands moved down her body.
Edith looked up, rubbed a sleeve across her eyes to dry them, then brushed her hands down the white dress, smoothing the fabric against her legs.
Either she was dead and didn't know it, or she was close enough to take matters into her own hands.
Elisabeth held her head in her hands, slowly shaking it.
Elisabeth held his face in her hands.
Elisabeth stood behind Jackson, and held her hands on his shoulders.
Elisabeth yelled from the kitchen, "Sit down, shut up and keep your hands to yourself."
Embracing her from behind, he untied her robe and slid his hands around her waist.
Even David Dean, although he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his wife, was forced to cross every finger of both hands.
Even if slow, her death would spare her an eternity at the hands of a demon with insatiable bloodlust.
Even she would have had trouble working with something so little, but his big hands dispensed with the job in short order.
Everything from the texture of his skin to the heat of his hands branding her was heaven to one unaccustomed to the sensuality of her world.
Fighting with each other wasn't going to do anything but play into the hands of those instigating the trouble.
Finally he lifted his hands and cradled her face in them, the thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.
Finally he lowered his hands and leaned forward to type.
Finally he reached out and took her waist in his hands, drawing her back against him.
Finally his big hands left her waist and moved to her shoulders, working out the stiffness in them, and then on to the back of her neck.
Furious and terrified, Katie planted both her hands on his arm to push it away with no success.
Furious, he took matters into his own hands.
Gabriel asked, hands on the hilts of his weapons.
Gabriel cupped her face in his large hands and tilted it up.
Gabriel held her gaze a moment longer before his hands dropped, and he walked away.
Gabriel knew they were loyal before he placed hands on their heads based on their body language.
Gloved hands snatched her.
Grass tickled her hands, a chilled wind nipped her neck, and the scents from her vision intensified until she was near gagging.
Hands clasped, she prayed fervently, asking God not to let Destiny suffer for what they had done.
Hands darted from the cells to swipe at them, and she saw why the robed man kept to the center of the corridor.
Hands on hips, she smiled up at him dryly.
He clapped his hands slowly.
He clapped his hands together, lifted a decanter of liquor and began pouring.
He clasped his hands behind his back and drew a deep breath.
He clasped his hands behind his back.
He clasped his hands behind his head, giving her an unobstructed view of his body.
He cupped her cheek with one of his large hands, and she was embarrassed to feel tears gather.
He cupped her face with his hands.
He didn't have a bottle in his hands.
He dropped her hands and grabbed her waist, pulling her close.
He felt hands on his shoulders as a voice broke through the madness.
He gathered his power, and an orb of light formed in his hands.
He gently disentangled his arms from her hands and gripped her waist, pulling her close.
He glanced at their joined hands, then at Lisa and Howard in turn.
He had no idea what she'd been through the past few days at the hands of Darkyn.
He hated the idea but understood the necessity, especially after finding the second compass in the hands of demons within a week.
He held her face in his hands and kissed her again, this time more urgently.
He held her face in his hands, searching her eyes.
He held her face in his hands.
He held her head in his hands, locked eyes with her and commanded, "Your favorite color is red."
He held his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trying to make sense of something that defied all logic.
He held his hands up and obeyed.
He inhaled deeply and his hands started to shake.
He looked away, towards the window, hands on his hips.
He looked like death with his dark hair and cold eyes, his panther-like physique, and gloved hands.
He patted her with both hands.
He pinned her hands above her head to keep her still then whispered the command again.
He placed his hands on Damian's face.
He planted his hands on either side of her and lowered his face to her level.
He plucked it out of Gabe's hands and held it up.
He pressed her back against the couch, and she yielded, her hands touching his face, his soft hair, his neck.
He pushed her hair over one shoulder, and his hands dropped.
He put his hands on her shoulders and his troubled gaze met hers.
He put his hands up and leaned backed.
He put his hands up in surrender.
He put his head in his hands.
He ran both hands through his hair, exasperated.
He reached down and took her hands, pulling her into his arms.
He released their hands, panting.
He roared and slammed his hands on the desk at the far end of the library, unable to stop the images racing through his mind.
He sat with his hands on his thighs and his eyes straight ahead, like a statue chiseled in Hell itself.
He sealed his skin around the tube, forced the flow downward, and placed his hands on her, forcing her body to accept his blood.
He set down his wine and settled his hands on her shoulders.
He set his coat down on the counter, and her hands began to tremble.
He shook hands with Damian, a small smile on his chiseled features.
He slid her dress free, his hands moving over her body possessively before he lifted her and carried her to the bed.
He snatched both hands in one of his, balancing her with his body as he placed his other hand against her forehead.
He squatted down beside the bed and held her hands.
He squatted down in front of Sarah with his hands on either side of her.
He squinted and folded his hands in prayer.
He steadied himself with his hands on his knees for a moment, panting; then opened a bottle and started to drink, fast; desperate to find oblivion.
He stepped behind Elisabeth's stool, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.
He stood a few meters away, hands clasped behind his back.
He stood and shook hands with both of them.
He stood at ease before her, unconcerned with teaching her to kill then exposing himself to death at her hands.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rounded his shoulders.
He threw up his hands in defeat and disappeared upstairs.
He took her arm with one of the hands that had explored every part of her body – or the body he thought was hers - not even a few hours before.
He took her arm with one of the hands that had explored every part of her body not two weeks before.
He took her face in his hands and drew her to him, kissing her once again.
He took her face in his hands.
He took her hand gently in his feathery, cool hands and pressed a finger to the inside of her forearm.
He took her hands, kissed one and said, "Lead the way, Legs."
He touched her, trailing his hands down her arms.
He traced his fingers over the scars on his hands and followed them up his arms, then his chest, then his legs.
He tried to hold the flashlight, but he needed both hands to secure the line.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and fixed Connie with a hostile stare.
He turned and leaned over the edge, cupping his hands.
He turned away, hands on hips as he surveyed the distant beaches.
He wanted to warn the young man to wear a bulletproof vest and keep his hands in his lap for protection.
He was left feeling dirty, like he was leading her on with enough encouragement to keep her from taking matters into her own hands but not so much that her tumor grew.
He was more interested in them holding hands and the look on her face, one of admiration.
He was talking to Edith Shipton who was nodding and biting her fingernails, when she wasn't wringing her hands.
He watched her while she wiped her hands, his expression unreadable.
He waved her to exit, and she did so, her hands shaking as she opened the door.
He wiped his bloodied hands on his shirt and trotted down the hall.
He.d give anything for the vial and the feel of her blood on his hands!
He's got a bad space battle on his hands.
Her attention shifted to her hands, and he stared at her as she focused on moving them.
Her body began to shake, and her hands were clammy.
Her body was beginning to ache more, from her battered hands to her bruised cheek from when she'd fallen after fainting the night before.
Her body was on fire, her hands shaking, her thoughts so scattered, she wasn't able to think.
Her eyes were on their clasped hands.
Her gaze fell to the bound hands of the man who'd caught her.
Her hands ceased quivering as she ran them across his chest, over his firm shoulders and shapely arms before returning to his chest.
Her hands fumbled with the keys three times before she managed to unlock the door.
Her hands rested on Dusty while her gaze remained on the burning clubhouse.
Her hands roamed his chest and back.
Her hands shook as she gripped the heavy stone dagger, and she leaned against the fountain.
Her hands shook as she made tea.
Her hands shook as she manipulated the configuration to arm the shields around it.
Her hands shook as she stood there discussing her own death with a creature that resembled the Grim Reaper.
Her hands shook, and she dropped the keys.
Her hands trembled as she got dressed.
Her hands were by her side, turned out, tranquilly, as if to say, peace at last.
Her hands were by her sides, turned out, as if offering benediction for what she had done, as if to say, peace at last.
Her hands were on her hips.
Her hands were rubbing her sweater absently, her silver-white hair long and loose, hanging almost to the small of her back.
Her hands were shaking too hard for the wine.
Her hands were soon roaming his body curiously, resting on his jaw and trailing along his neck.
Her hands were sweating as she accepted it.
Her method might not succeed so completely in the hands of any one else.
Her tones rose and fell, her hands and arms animated.
Her untaught, unsatisfied hands destroy whatever they touch because they do not know what else to do with things.
His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.
His eyes were closed, his body hunched and hands clenched together.
His face was as deeply scarred as his hands.
His face was excited as he held out the contents of his hands.
His hands ached and he tried tying a handkerchief to ease the pressure.
His hands appeared through the cell bars.
His hands gently pulled her head back and before she comprehended his intent, he kissed her lips.
His hands gripped her waist, drawing her close.
His hands might be soft, but he was capable of dealing with whatever came in his direction.
His hands moved down her body, and he nudged her head aside.
His hands ran down her naked body possessively.
His hands shook as he scooped them into a bowl.
His hands skimmed her arms to circle her and rest at the small of her back.
His hands slid down her arms and his palms touched hers warmly as his fingers laced through hers.
His hands traveled down her arms and settled on her hips, drawing them against his.
His hands were hot on her hips and his body blocked the cold wind whipping up the cliff.
His hands were large, his palms flat.
His hands were rough and calloused, but his touch was light and opened the comforting flow of energy between them.
His hands worked up her back moving gradually as he massaged every inch of the muscles on either side of her spine.
His lips turned more demanding, and he took her hands in his.
His people's hope had turned to desperation in the hands of the Yirkin when every sun-cycle passed and there was no nishani.
His thick body was at her back, and he shifted close enough to remain in contact while his large hands settled on her arms.
His warm hands dropped to her waist and slid to the back, pulling her gently against him.
His warm hands slid around her waist, pulling her back against him.
Hold the rope in both hands.
Holding the bill made her hands sweat and her heart beat faster.
How would you like working with a slug who couldn't keep his hands off your boobs every time no one was looking and grabbed your ass whenever he damned well pleased?
I cannot make notes during the lectures, because my hands are busy listening.
I did nothing but explore with my hands and learn the name of every object that I touched; and the more I handled things and learned their names and uses, the more joyous and confident grew my sense of kinship with the rest of the world.
I draw and paint, she said, flustered as his gaze stayed on the drawing of them holding hands.
I know, you think he had his hands full raising me, and I'm sure he did, but if I had let him, he would have told me which side to chew my breakfast on.
I remember the surprise and the pain I felt as I noticed that they placed their hands over mine when I talked to them and that they read books with their fingers.
I thrust out my hands to grasp some support, I clutched at the water and at the seaweed which the waves tossed in my face.
I used to sit in my mother's lap all day long and keep my hands on her face because it amused me to feel the motions of her lips; and I moved my lips, too, although I had forgotten what talking was.
I want revenge for my daughter.s treatment at Sasha.s hands, and I want the vial or the girl.
I'm so sick of this whole better-than-thou attitude you all have! she snapped, facing him with her hands on her hips.
If the man didn't freeze down there, he'd die at the hands of her father and his strange delusion that this man wanted her dead.
In darkness again, he dropped his hands.
In that moment, she squirmed from his hands and screamed again, scrambling to reach the cell phone on the floor.
Instantly he was on top of her, holding her hands down.
Instead of seating himself on the traditional doctor's stool, Dr. Wynn sat beside her on the table, hands folded across one knee.
It dissipated into black smoke in his hands.
It might take all three sisters to rein her in, if even their hands were firm enough.
It still rained, but it wasn't cold that made her hands tremble as she left the car.
It suddenly occurred to me that he might make a delightful pet; so I seized him by the tail with both hands and carried him home.
It was a far cry from the woman who ran away screaming from the soul she accidentally touched last week or the goddess who would've commanded him rather than risk getting her hands dirty.
It was so easy to agree and sink into his strength, let the scent of dark chocolate work its way into her skin as his hands moved over her.
It wasn't coming out the way she practiced it, maybe because Gabriel was sitting close enough that she wanted to lean against him instead of the bed and place his large hands on the parts of her body hidden by clothes.
It's out of all our hands.
It's stupid even fighting about any of the land before we make sure that gold-digging bitch doesn't screw us and get her hands on all of it!
Jackson folded his hands.
Jackson had started a fire and stood with his hands on the mantle, watching the flames.
Jackson held his hands to her face.
Jackson lay back with his hands behind his head, replaying the night, still hardly believing it was real.
Jackson leaned back a little and clasped his hands behind his head.
Jackson lingered in the shower; bracing his hands on the wall, letting the water run on the back of his neck.
Jackson noticed heaviness in Elisabeth's eyes, so took her hands.
Jackson noticed the tremor in Connor's hands, so poured him a scotch.
Jackson plopped down and put his head in his hands.
Jackson put both hands up in surrender and chuckled.
Jackson ran both his hands through her fur, checking for injury.
Jackson rose and held her hands.
Jackson sat away from her and motioned with his hands to put her feet up.
Jackson took her face in his hands and found her eyes.
Jackson turned the camera on, placed it in front of her and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, feeling tension in them.
Jade.s hands were sweaty as he drew a machete.
Jared exclaimed, hanging his hands through the bars in his cell.
Jennifer gasped at the sight and stood, hands on the roll bar, and drank in the works of nature's paintbrush.
Jennifer said as she bent on hands and knees to look closer.
Jule cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her deeply.
Jule hesitated only a moment longer before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Jule pulled his hands free from the handcuffs and tugged the blanket up.
Jule sat with his back against the far wall, his lip bloodied, one eye black, and his hands chained above his head to the pipes running from the floor to the ceiling.
Jule took her hands in his and rested them on his thigh.
Katie planted both her hands on his arm to push it away.
Katie stared at her, hands on hips.
Kiera lowered her hands and wiped sweat from her forehead.
Kiki clasped his hands and offered a small bow.
Kiki's eyes settled on her shaking hands.
Lankha was huddled in a corner with his hands over his head.
Lankha worked his magic with his micro suede-covered hands and gentle touch.
Lankha's hands remained on her ribs for a long, long time.
Lankha's hands were covered in what felt like soft, feathery, cool micro-suede.
Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face with his hands finally taking his eyes off her face.
Leave, before I take matters into my own hands.
Like I said, keep your fingers crossed—both hands.
Lisa tossed Giddon a towel and plunged her hands into the soapy water in the sink.
Lydia glanced up and down and then took Fitzgerald's face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth—no glad-to-see-you-grandpa embrace.
Lydia Larkin stood, feet apart, in the classic shooting position, both hands clamped on her smoking gun.
Maybe that's why I want it to stay out of their hands.
Miriam pursed her lips then threw her hands up.
More tears rose, and she tugged at her hands, furious he'd even thought to cuff her!
Most of Bird Song's other guests remained, as requested, in their own rooms but Ryland hung around the kitchen, sharing a snack of take-out pizza with Donnie while Edith sat nearby, wringing her hands and looking petrified.
Most women were putty in the old man's hands, but Claire Quincy had pushed all the wrong buttons and short-circuited his good nature.
My hands felt every object and observed every motion, and in this way I learned to know many things.
Near hyperventilating, she sat heavily on the couch and clutched her head with her hands.
Nishani followed and gripped his forearm with both of her small, soft hands.
Nishani took the hands of his youngest sister, Talal, and began to speak, animated compared to the serene women of his world.
Nothing felt right, so she decided to tuck her hands behind her back and simply lean against the wall.
Of all things, his gloved hands scared her the most.
One of his hands brushed her hip then returned.
One of the pens in his hands snapped, and she took a step back.
One took her hands while another shined the glowing orb on her bindings.
Our hearts beat fast, and our hands trembled with excitement, not fear, for we had the hearts of vikings, and we knew that our skipper was master of the situation.
Pale hands draped through bars two cells down from the beast.
Reaching the wall, Deidre ignored the scrape of concrete against her hands and knees as she clambered on top.
Removing his hands from the wall, he placed them on her shoulders, pulling her closer.
Rhyn gave a nod, hands clenching at the thought of facing off against some demons.
Rhyn threw up his hands in surrender.
Rhyn, whose large hands all but swallowed the tea cup, had made an attempt to be civilized.
Sarah gasped and clasped her hands to her chest as Frederick lowered his head.
Sarah jumped up, took both her hands and screeched, "Come with me!"
Sarah stood, took his face in her hands, and kissed him on the forehead.
Sasha looked over her, uninterested, and both her hands went to her throat at the memory of what he.d done to her in Hell.
She approached him and held his hands.
She began wringing her hands.
She brought both hands to her face, realizing the diamond was theirs and then fell into his arms.
She brought her hands to her forehead.
She buried her face in her hands, sobbed and shrank down in her seat.
She caught herself with her hands before she did a face-plant on the ground and tried to catch her breath.
She clapped her hands again.
She cleaned them off with hands that trembled from the confrontation.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest cupping her hands over his.
She couldn.t see the Sanctuary through her blurry eyes, just the blue of water and the tan sand beneath her hands.
She covered her eyes with her hands and buried her face in his chest with a groan.
She covered her face with her hands and cried.
She covered his hands with hers and looked into his eyes.
She crawled on her knees to Toby, heart hammering and hands shaking as she rolled him onto his back.
She danced around him, running her hands over him, at times tickling his ear with a sexy whisper.
She didn't let herself think too much about what it might be, how she ended up in Hell, or why she'd just let some otherworldly creature with fuzzy hands cut off her clothes.
She didn't want to think about it, not when her hands were covered in the blood of her attacker-turned-savior.
She didn't want to think about the human she'd left in the hands of the demon lord.
She died at Rhyn's hands.
She dropped Sarah's hands and looked up, spotting Jackson.
She escorted him to wash his hands, talking all the while.
She faced him and held his hands.
She finished snapping the beans and wiped her hands on the towel.
She fisted her hands on her hips.
She flipped both hands front and back and looked at the blood-soaked towel and the sleeve of her sweater.
She follows with her hands every motion you make, and she knew that I was looking for the doll.
She forced herself not to cover her tattoo with her hands as she followed her sister to the second floor, where the private rooms were.
She glanced back over her shoulder to see Darkyn standing where she left him, hands clasped behind his back, watching her with the cold smile that told her there was more going on than she suspected.
She grabbed his hands and squeezed so hard he almost fell to his knees.
She grabbed it frantically as he put his hands under her arms and pulled her to a standing position, her face only inches from his.
She halted and quickly piled five small stones in an arrow pointing back the way they'd come, then wiped her muddied hands on her jeans.
She held her face in her hands and shook her head.
She held her face in her hands.
She held her hands over her eyes.
She held her head in her hands, tormented by his pain without understanding how she was supposed to help a dead man.
She held his face in her hands.
She held it with two hands and retreated to the fountain, unable to shake the instinct that said the dagger on the fountain was the same.
She jumped up and down clapping her hands.
She knows her life is in his hands; there is no one to protect her from his wrath.
She made her way to him and put both hands in his hair.
She paused, sucking in a deep breath, and then threw her hands in the air in defeat.
She perched on the edge of one table, fidgeting hands in her lap and bright features alert as she focused on some point on the screen.
She placed her hands on her face and winced as Sofi vacuumed her power as Darian had.
She placed her hands on his face and pulled him closer, hugging him.
She placed her hands on the window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass.
She planted her hands on her hips, tempted but not about to do it, now the she knew he wanted her to.
She pressed her hands together then pulled them apart about a foot.
She pressed the meat of her hands to her eyes to keep from crying again.
She pried glass free with shaking hands between sobs, then set her foot down and did the same for the other.
She pulled on jeans and a sweater, hands shaking as she pulled on socks.
She pushed herself up and shielded her face with her bound hands.
She pushed the door closed with her hip, a silver tray of cookies and snacks in her hands.
She put both her hands over her chest and exclaimed, "How romantic!"
She put her face in her hands to hide the despair it would show.
She put her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him in to touch noses.
She put her hands on his chest and giggled, "I have work to do, you need to stop distracting me."
She put her hands on his chest as he started to kiss her neck.
She quickly replaced the envelope with shaking hands, making sure it was in exactly the same position as she found it.
She raised her fist to lay a right hook to his throat, beginning to panic when the lightning arced between his hands.
She raked both hands through his hair.
She remembered touching Darkyn's chest and feeling aroused by the idea of his hands on her.
She rested her hands on his chest, but they didn't stay, instead running over the muscles of his chest and around to his back.
She sat across from Evelyn, who continued to give her the odd look, and clasped her hands together hard to keep them from shaking as they took off.
She sat as far from the opening as she could, brandy clenched in shaking hands.
She sat down, clutching the line with both hands.
She sat on her hands staring into the pond.
She sat on one of two fold-out chairs in the concrete room, legs crossed and hands in her lap.
She sat on the table and buried her face in her hands, grateful and relieved to be reconnected with Kiera, even if indirectly.
She sat very still on the dark grey bed, her legs folded and hands in her lap, and stared at Evelyn.
She seems to be more nervous than she really is, because she expresses more with her hands than do most English-speaking people.
She shifted with a grimace and looked down at the brush of grass against her hands.
She shivered despite her lamb's wool coat, her hands plunged deep into pockets that contained weapons.
She shivered, unaware just how close she'd been to dying by his hands.
She shoved her hands into her pockets and stared at the bear.
She shoved his hands away, clinging to him.
She shoved the phone and her hands in her pockets to keep them warm as she picked her way through the littered alley.
She slapped his chest with both hands and laughed, "That's just mean!"
She slapped his chest with both hands.
She slowly slid her hands up his chest, enjoying the feel of the smooth muscles beneath his shirt.
She stared at the discovery in her hands.
She steadied her breathing, swearing to herself that these would be the last to die at her father's hands.
She still felt his hands branding her body.
She stood and crossed to the scared creature and took one of his soft hands.
She strode to the driver's side of the Jeep, hands on her hips, a no-nonsense look on her startlingly attractive face.
She took his face in her hands again, forcing his attention on her.
She took his face in her hands and traced his cheekbones and jawline with her fingers.
She took his face in her hands the way she had Damian the night he wanted to destroy the world and forced him to meet her gaze.
She took Sarah's hands, probably thanking her for attending.
She touched her hands to his cheeks again.
She touched his neck with trembling hands and felt his pulse.
She tried to shove him off, but he snagged her hips and dragged her down, pinning her hands over her head.
She tucked her hands under her bottom to stop.
She tucked the creature in her hands under one arm and left the small room for a long corridor in similar dark grey which glowed more brightly from indistinguishable light sources.
She tugged her hands free and leaned into him, sobbing and shaking, unable to support herself.
She turned and gave him a big hug, wet hands held aloft.
She walked to the music cabinets and ran her hands across the top.
She wanted to feel his large hands on her body and to find out what it was about him that made her feel like he was the only real person she'd ever met.
She was already putty in his hands.
She was dressed in a tattered coat, hands in her lap, sitting as nervously as an immigrant awaiting deportation.
She was panicking, recalling the horrors of the hours at Sasha's hands.
She went to the kitchen and made him a cup in silence, glancing at him a few times as he propped his head up with both his hands.
She wrenched away from both men and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to stop the visions.
She'd run her hands over his perfect body, marveling at the smooth skin stretched over solid muscle.
Shipton held up his hands, mimicking surrender.
So, when are you going to show me what you've really got in those hands?
Sofia pushed Darian's hands away.
Sofia shrugged the sense of foreboding away and stuffed her hands into her pockets.
Suddenly she was mewling, kneeling beside him, her hands on his thigh and her face soft and beguiling.
Taking her face in his hands, his thumbs stroked the soft skin on her cheeks.
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the shaking hands.
The Black God held out his hands.
The brief pain turned quickly into pleasure intense enough that she began panting, her hands roaming his body.
The chessmen are of two sizes, the white larger than the black, so that I have no trouble in following my opponent's maneuvers by moving my hands lightly over the board after a play.
The china chattered in her trembling hands.
The Exemplar folded his hands, contemplating the request, then turned and walked to the front of the dais.
The first man was in his prime, and his eyes crinkled in a genuine smile when he clasped hands with Dustin.
The graceful Immortal was in the study, hands folded in his hands, as if waiting for him.
The ground was rocky beneath her hands and knees, the air chilled.
The hands spun several times while the icons around its edges glowed, danced and finally settled back in place.
The hands that still covered the entry sight were bloody.
The healer's soft hands took away her headache, then the throbbing in her neck, and worked on the other parts of her body until she felt whole again.
The heat of his large hands made her feel as if she wore no clothing.
The hot energy circulating through her body came from the large, olive-hued hands touching her.
The human righted himself and held his head in both hands, shaking.
The Magician piled her coat on top of her table with shaking hands and walked toward the hallway where the restrooms were.
The man, or boy, couldn't have been more than twenty, yet his steps were as sure as the hands that whirled her around the room.
The mating laws from the time-before-time were absolute, but what if Darkyn and Gabriel made their own private deal to return the human Gabriel loved and abandon past-Death to the hands of the Dark One?
The nip of his fangs at her neck, inner thighs and breasts almost drove her over the edge while his hot tongue and hands explored every part of her.
The only thing she does which requires skill with the hands is her work on the typewriter.
The pale man was tall and lean, and he hung his hands again through the bars of his cell.
The pod stabilized upside down, and she was crammed into half of the pod, unable to move with her hands tied.
The six ladies-in-waiting of the Dean for Sheriff brigade cupped their hands and booed the competition, to the delight of the crowd.
The thought of human-Deidre in the hands of the Dark One made her feel something … unpleasant.
The thought of letting him run those hands wherever he wanted thrilled the human in her and terrified the former goddess.
The touch of some hands is an impertinence.
The two chatted while Cynthia dried her hands.
The vamp snatched the phone from her pocket and stepped away, hands raised.
The Watcher placed both hands on his head.
Their hands were bathed in the same strange haze that surrounded him.
Then he ran both hands through his hair.
Then he smelled it and had to steady himself with both hands on the counter.
There is no greater joy for an artist than to know their work is in the hands of someone who truly understands it.
There was a soft step behind her, and then his hands were on her waist, his thumbs nimbly working the tense muscles.
There was interest in his glowing red eyes, and she rested the palms of her hands on the knives at her belt.
There was no further official word on Martha's whereabouts, but Fred continued to assure the Deans not to worry, saying the girl was in good hands, whatever that meant.
They brought a wing chair from the living room into the studio, and Elisabeth positioned him sitting back with one ankle on the other knee, his hands resting on the arms of the chair.
They crept forward, still holding hands although it was cumbersome to do so in the closeness of the passageway.
They inched forward, one behind the other, hands at their sides lest they rub the slime of the rock walls that wept on either side.
They kept Logan's baseball gear there, and she felt the sudden need to have a bat in her hands.
They shook hands and introduced themselves.
They're doctors, Lacy said, looking up from the memo in her hands.
This part of his life was in the hands of Fate, who would probably be pleased.
Those huge hands had started to explore her body in a way that left her feeling feminine, delicate, and willing to let him take control in a way she never permitted him before.
Three massive warriors escorted a fourth whose hands were bound.
Toby was awake and sitting, fascinated by Lankha.s soft hands.
Towels were in short supply, rooms needed quick cleaning, and Cynthia, Maria, and Dean had their hands full.
Turning to leave, her hands clasped to her face in horror upon noticing the painting.
Two of his sisters were waiting, composed and serene in their dark clothing with hands clasped in front of them.
Tymkyn, the best tracker in the underworld, stood behind him, hands clasped and chest heaving.
Unable to understand or control the strange sensations, she tried to help right herself as the hands gripping her ribcage steadied her.
Unconsciousness must have paid its call before hands secured him and lowered him to the waiting rescuers below.
Visitors held out their hands like this, Dusty said, indicating his outstretched hand.
Was human-Deidre going through the same pain many times a day at Darkyn's hands?
We based the age on when the ownership of the mine changed hands and when it was last worked.
We clapped our hands and shouted;--went away beaming with pleasure, and Teacher and I felt more light of heart than we had for sometime.
We got him beat hands down.
We were so damned settled it was a given we'd be holding hands in our wheel chairs.
We'll take it nice and slow and hold hands.
Wedding plans were progressing nicely, now totally out of male hands, and Randy's baseball activities were in high gear.
Well, you certainly have one on your hands with this.
What would it be like to run her hands over Darkyn's lean frame the way she had Gabriel's, to feel his sharp teeth nip the delicate skin of her inner thighs and breasts?
When Carmen continued to stare at her, she threw her hands in the air.
When Carmen didn't respond, she threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes.
When Dean rushed to the kitchen, he found Cynthia, her hands to her face, in tears, grease covering the floor.
When he donned the wolf's head, she slapped her hands to the sides of her face in mock horror.
When he had finished, Sarah waited a moment then brought her hands together.
When he reached down and took her hands, she stood.
When he was too pissed to think straight, he slammed his hands into the boards covering a store's front door.
When his hands found her waist and drew her close, passion came without warning, completely consuming her body and soul.
When she is walking up or down the hall or along the veranda, her hands go flying along beside her like a confusion of birds' wings.
When she turned away, he blocked the view with his hands and prayed she had done the same to avoid witnessing his savagery.
When there was a lady around, Fred O'Connor was always in good hands.
Wherever she is, I'd be more comfortable if she were in police hands.
While Jennifer didn't complain, Dean could see her hands gripping the sides of the vehicle tightly as they moved steadily upward.
With a husky breath, she dropped to his lap, dove both hands into his hair and pulled his head back, planting a hard kiss on his lips.
With his hands free, he unfastened the larger flashlight and pointed it downward, trying to find a path level enough to search further, now absent the security of the totally expended rope.
With loving hands, dear Joshua, I did the same.
With shaking hands, he fumbled, affixing what were certainly not approved knots, but he tied enough of them to be confident they would hold.
With the photos in her hands, the fertilized eggs were a thing of the past.
Wynn stretched across the distance to grasp it as it started to slide from her hands.
You couldn't keep your hands off—" "You two know each other?"
You have magic in these hands.
You're in better hands than I was being on Billy's team.
You've got more time on your hands than an unemployed whaler.
Yully fled the pub for her car and opened the door with cold, fumbling hands.