" French are good at baking," he said oddly, moving in front of me, his knee pressing between my thighs and pinning me against the cabinet. "There's another thing the French do well..." he said, voice trailing off as his hand slid behind me and grabbed me at the base of my neck, yanking my body against his just a second before his lips crashed down on mine.

The French could go suck it. No one kissed like him. "

― Jessica Gadziala , Peace, Love, & Macarons