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“I didn't know you owned clothes with colors."

"I have a few things that aren't black."

"Of course you do, darling. Only all the ones I've seen are very small, and I get to take them off with my teeth. You've trained me to salivate at the sight of color, like one of Pavlov's dogs. Your top is making me very hungry.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I promise you, whatever we are together, it's not a mistake. It's too good to be a mistake.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“What's your name?" she asked.
He laughed. "Nev."
She sat up suddenly, bracing her elbows on the bed. "Short for Neville?"
It was the world's dorkiest name. Nearly as bad as Rupert. "I never thought I'd be penetrated by a Neville." she said wonderingly. "Maybe a Colin, or a Simon but -"
"Shut up.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Please, Tom. You can't ride your bicycle across the country alone. It's insane. You'll end up being slaughtered by a serial killer."
"Taryn, I'm thiry-five, single, tattooed, and antisocial. I'M the serial killer.”
― Ruthie Knox, Ride with Me

“After I left here on Saturday, I decided never to see you again.â€�
He was sliding the frittata under the broiler, so she could only see his profile, but damn if he didn’t appear to be smirking.
“I know that, darling. It wounds my pride you won’t go out with me, but I can console myself with the knowledge that when you do see me, you can’t keep your knickers on for ten minutes running.�
She threw her cookie at him, feigning indignation. “You bastard! Are you calling me easy?�
“I like you easy. Besides, you’re not to blame. Who’d want to wear wet knickers?”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I'm a thoroughly respectable woman."
"You don't kiss like one.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“She wished he weren't so damned fit. Running away was a lot harder when the guy you were fleeing kept in such an excellent shape. -Cath Talarico”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Is he actually good?â€� Judith asked. “He’s incredible.â€� “Sorry, are we talking about the painting or the shagging?â€� Nev asked. “The painting!â€� He grinned. “Right.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“It’s different for you,â€� she said. “You’re a man.â€�
“I was beginning to fear you hadn’t noticed.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“You brought me here with impure motives?â€� The idea gave her a stupid thrill.
He shook his head. “No. I developed them after you arrived.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“It was easy to love your idea of someone - to fall hard for their very best self. The question was whether, once you had to spend some time living with their worst self, you could bear to be with them anymore.”
― Ruthie Knox , Truly

“Your pastâ€� It’s not a series of mistakes, love. It’s just you. All the things that happened to you that made you who you are.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I’m pretty sure you just kissed me.â€�
“Yes, I did. Shall I apologize?�
“What for?�
“It was terribly impolite. I didn’t ask your permission.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“The smile widened, and she decided it ought to be classified as a misdemeanor. Grinning with Intent to Discombobulate.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Mom had considered Cath a bit of a hoochie, but the truth was that Cath always opened her heart when she opened her legs.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Cath called all the shots. She seemed more comfortable that way, so Nev had decided not to press. Much. Instead, he looked for the loopholes and exploited them.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I thought you didn’t sit,â€� she said.
The dimple appeared. “The way I’ve worked it out, this is the closest thing to a first date we’re going to get. On a date, I sit.�
“This isn’t a date. It’s a commute.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“He was claiming her, marking her with his touch, but she didn’t feel possessed so much as she felt protected. Cherished. Wanted. The unaccustomed intimacy of it rendered her fragile, vulnerable as a robin’s egg. Somehow with him it was all right. He wouldn’t take advantage. City was one of the good guys.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Was that some kind of romantic declaration, disguised as a filthy pirate sex offer?”
― Ruthie Knox, How to Misbehave

“Give me your phone number?â€� She smiled, looking down at her lap.
“Sorry. No. It would be a mistake.�
“Would it help if I promised not to be?”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“He traced the shape of the bird, wondering what she could have done to merit writing herself a memo on her body.
“It’s a very permanent sort of reminder.�
She raised herself up slightly, catching his gaze and holding it. “They were really bad mistakes.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“All of it felt like stolen time, an end rather than a beginning. But he didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what to do differently.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I'll make sure you're ready," he said gently. "And then I'm gonna make you beg me.”
― Ruthie Knox, How to Misbehave

“Oh, he was perfect. An orgasmâ€� just for herâ€� and a compliment. She would bottle him and sell him and make her fortune.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“The gleam in those green-brown eyes was positively rakish. She hadn’t thought City had a speck of rakishness in him.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I’ve reformed. The kissing is sort of a holdover.â€�
“Don’t reform. I like you bad.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“Nev was the man in the parlor and the painter in his studio, the banker and the rugby player. The boyfriend who bought her prawn crisps and rubbed her back when she cried. The tender lover. The caged beast who came out to play when they got naked together. He could be any of them.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“I would use my tongue. First through those pretty knickers, and then when I had you soaking and thrashing round, I’d rip them off and spread your thighs wide and hold you open while I made a banquet of you.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“He wouldn’t hurt her. Never on purpose. Nev was going to hurt her accidentally, and when he did it would be her own fault.”
― Ruthie Knox, About Last Night

“He kissed her then. He had to kiss her, to try out every way he could move his mouth over hers—hard and soft, deep and reverent—and he had to move his tongue against hers and cup her breast in his hand because he was so fucking grateful and so fucking lost.”
― Ruthie Knox, Truly