If she wanted a small object and was given a large one, she would shake her head and take up a tiny bit of the skin of one hand between the thumb and finger of the other.
Even though her skin now had a healthy tan, the sun was doing its best to burn it.
The golden brown skin and black hair reminded her of the conversation at Thanksgiving.
Her skin was already covered with dust.
Her skin was cold; she was in shock.
Desire rose hot and fast in him, more so when he felt the cool tickle of her power, the combination of cool energy and warm skin making his blood race.
Her skin was caramel, her long brown hair falling in fat ringlets around her elfin features.
His scent still lingered on her skin, even though she'd taken a shower earlier.
Damian felt the unusual urge to look in on her again, to feel her soft skin against him once more and make sure she was safe.
She scrubbed her skin rosy for nearly an hour and finally abandoned the attempt to remove the guilt.
A part of her still longed for him, to smell him and feel his skin against hers.
Talon looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl before he took her arm.
In all his years, he hadn't found anything as soothing to his nerves as a woman's silky skin, heady scent, and warm body.
The only skin not covered was his face and part of his neck, both of which were channeled and knotted by scars.
His skin was golden, his wide back muscled, lean and defined down to the slender hips and waist.
She was toned and curvy, her skin as soft as her voice.
She still looked fatigued, with dark circles under her eyes and skin pale beneath the caramel.
The cool rain felt good against his hot skin, and he stood in the dark walkway between the gym and the house, soothed by the storm.
Her skin smelled of their lovemaking, her hair and the sheets of him.
He closed his eyes, feeling her warm breath and soft skin against his again.
Before long, she was drenched and chilled, her skin crawling from the bridled charged energy of the storm.
The youth's eyes were wide and bright, his skin flushed with health.
His skin was colder than snow, the power radiating off him like an arctic breeze.
Cocoa skin, soulful dark eyes, exotic features, and brilliant tattoos over his exposed, muscular arms.
Almond-shaped green eyes were large and expressive while her skin was touched with honey.
Jule's eyes were closed and his skin clammy.
Removing the blood, she found every part of his exposed skin was covered in the colorful tattoos.
She wanted more of Jule's magic caressing her from the inside, and his soft skin caressing her on the outside.
The fever had left him, and while he looked pale beneath his cocoa skin, he was alert and his speech coherent.
A man with caramel skin, a woman openly armed with a gun, and a man Jule's size with unnatural golden eyes.
He was as large as the others, with olive skin, long white-blond hair, and golden eyes the unusual color of honey.
With her large, two-toned eyes, flawless skin, and long, straw-colored hair, she resembled a doll.
His skin was cold to the touch; his breath hung in the air as he moved.
By the time she reached the patio door, her skin was clammy, her heart racing.
She wasn't dressed in skin-tight workout clothes like Claire, who joined Damian as he trotted down the stairs for their daily sparring session.
His hair was sandy blond, his skin golden.
Rainy's Natural, a beautiful woman with mocha skin and blue eyes, leapt up from her seat.
Or maybe peeling your skin off?
Snow covered his hair, and his skin was cold.
The dress moved with her like a second skin, draping her curves and swishing silently around her legs.
His skin was smooth and warm, stretched taut over an athletic body.
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?
His teeth grazed the sensitive skin without biting.
His body was solid and strong, the sensations of his skin against hers and his scents intoxicating her.
She tasted his skin, but it, too, wasn't enough.
He reached out to take the hourglass, grazing her skin in the act.
It had to be a dream, except that she remembered the heat of the skin beneath his shirt and tracing the scars she knew covered his body.
Darkyn's daughter appeared frail and gaunt, her skin a shade or two darker than the white pillow beneath her head.
A practitioner took a scab from someone with a mild case, made an incision in the skin of a healthy person, and infected that person with the scab.
With skin cancer, like all diseases, over time some people get better and some people get worse, and often we really don't know why.
Now, you don't know if the radishes make the people get better or if something that makes people crave radishes also beats back skin cancer.
Smart creams that let your skin absorb an optimal amount of sunlight.
I will probably absorb vitamins through my skin as my shirt detects I need them.
Yesterday Helen took off her clothes and sat in her skin all the afternoon.
Taking the bullet she made her habitual sign for SMALL--that is, by pinching a little bit of the skin of one hand.
It is not barbarous merely because the printing is skin-deep and unalterable.
The value of a man is not in his skin, that we should touch him.
It was no more than the scurf of his skin, which was constantly shuffled off.
The skin of a woodchuck was freshly stretched upon the back of the house, a trophy of his last Waterloo; but no warm cap or mittens would he want more.
The Concord hunter told him what he knew and offered him the skin; but the other declined it and departed.
They said that a gentleman farmer, who was behind the scenes, wanted to double his money, which, as I understood, amounted to half a million already; but in order to cover each one of his dollars with another, he took off the only coat, ay, the skin itself, of Walden Pond in the midst of a hard winter.
Our voyaging is only great-circle sailing, and the doctors prescribe for diseases of the skin merely.
The devil skin your Emperor.
In their service he risked his skin and his life twenty times a year, and in their service had lost more horses than the money he had from them would buy.
Doctors came to see her singly and in consultation, talked much in French, German, and Latin, blamed one another, and prescribed a great variety of medicines for all the diseases known to them, but the simple idea never occurred to any of them that they could not know the disease Natasha was suffering from, as no disease suffered by a live man can be known, for every living person has his own peculiarities and always has his own peculiar, personal, novel, complicated disease, unknown to medicine--not a disease of the lungs, liver, skin, heart, nerves, and so on mentioned in medical books, but a disease consisting of one of the innumerable combinations of the maladies of those organs.
And should your Serene Highness require a man who will not spare his skin, please think of me....
Bilibin puckered his skin in preparation for something witty.
A little ahead of them walked a peasant guide, wet to the skin and wearing a gray peasant coat and a white knitted cap.
Paper rattled and then something was placed on the skin under her ear.
His skin was warm to the touch.
He smoothed her hair from her face and rested his hand against the soft skin of her exposed thigh, admiring her body.
He couldn't shake the fire in his blood or the sense of how soft her supple skin, how warm her body felt beneath him.
She brushed one of the frozen women trapped in time on the sidewalk, surprised to feel her warm skin and the brush of the wool suit.
It was a silver coin, warmed by his skin, with a circle of cuneiform symbols surrounding a star with two arrows.
His skin was soft despite his strength, a combination the woman in her found appealing.
He sealed his skin around the tube, forced the flow downward, and placed his hands on her, forcing her body to accept his blood.
The skin around his eyes softened.
He smelled like a heady mix of male musk and something so faint and sweet, it made her want to press her face to the skin of his chest for a better smell.
The girl's hair was soft and fluffy and her skin as smooth as satin.
For instance: Imagine all people with skin cancer voluntarily shared their Digital Echo files on an anonymous basis.
What reasonable man ever supposed that ornaments were something outward and in the skin merely--that the tortoise got his spotted shell, or the shell-fish its mother-o'-pearl tints, by such a contract as the inhabitants of Broadway their Trinity Church?
You are faced by one of two things," and the skin over his left temple puckered, "either you will not reach your regiment before peace is concluded, or you will share defeat and disgrace with Kutuzov's whole army."
She could count his ribs easily where they showed through the skin of his body, and his head was long and seemed altogether too big for him, as if it did not fit.