3
" Hey!” The male voice sliced through the noise. Terri ignored him, determined to get back to the bar for her next order. A harsh hand gripped her arm, jerking her back into a firm chest. “I asked your name.” Hot breath reeking of stale beer permeated her sinuses, making her stomach turn, as the tenor of his voice burrowed into her ear.
Fear gripped her. Memories of the way Randy would grab her, and where it always ended, slammed into her, making her head spin. Shaking it off, Terri narrowed her eyes and whirled around, jabbing a red lacquered nail into his powder blue polo. “Back off,” she warned, snatching her arm back.
He advanced on her, his large frame towering over her. “Just wanna know your name, sweetheart,” he said with a sleazy smile. “No need to get testy.”
“You haven’t seen me testy.”
As she turned her back on him and continued on her way, he called out to her.
“Yet.”
Terri--from Spring Cleaning--Coming Summer 2012 "
― Brandi Salazar , Spring Cleaning
6
" That guy with the silver hair, he’s your dad, right?” Amber questioned, surveying the scene.
“Yes,” I said, reluctant to say anything but, considering what was happening, figured was the least of my worries.
“Ooo la la. He’s, like, totally diesel. Look at those arms.” She went on, admiring my dad to a sickening degree.
“All right, jailbait, back off. It’s practically incest.”
She sucked air through her teeth. “I know,” she said regretfully. “But a girl can dream. And I have a feeling he’s going to be starring in a lot of them. "
― Brandi Salazar , Addicted to Magic (Addicted, #1)
7
" Hey, aren’t you that girl from the web?” the new one asked, bending to suck my earing between his teeth.
I pulled my head away. “You got the wrong girl.”
Mr. Hawaii pulled back to take a better look at me. “No, I think you might be.” To my total bewilderment, he spun me around.
“Hey! What are you—?”
“Hey, it is you!” he yelled excitedly, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Hey, everyone, it’s Cheeky Galore! "
― Brandi Salazar , Addicted to Magic (Addicted, #1)
12
" Sitting down on the stairs, Cheyenne watched Behr through the slats in the railing. She liked what she saw. Covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, muscles swollen from what was clearly a grueling workout, Behr’s toned physique was a serious distraction from her worries, making her content to just sit and watch. Each thump of his fist into the bag resonated in her bones. Each kick of his leg thundered in her ears. Every move seemed to be in time with the harsh sounds of the music pumping through the room, until he was a frenzy of movement.
It was frighteningly beautiful.
Standing, Cheyenne called out to him. “Behr? Are you hungry?” She was feeling a little peckish herself, and she needed something to keep her hands busy.
Between a combination of brutal punches, knee jabs and the music, Behr didn’t hear a word she said. So she decided to go to him.
Winding her way through equipment and stepping over the discarded sweaty T-shirt, Cheyenne approached him. Waiting for the right moment to interrupt, she tapped him on the shoulder during a brief pause.
Big mistake. Huge. "
― Brandi Salazar , A Warrior's Betrayal (Brotherhood, #2)
13
" She was prepared for him to shut her down, when Behr shrugged a shoulder and said, “Yeah, sounds good. I think it’s a good idea for you to get out of the house. But,” he said, stepping back into the kitchen and leveling her with a hard look, “only if I tag along.”
“What? Why?” Cheyenne questioned, not understanding the need for chaperones.
“Because it’s safer that way,” he reasoned. “I have a couple things to take care of first, so it will probably be a day or two. I expect you to wait for me, though, Cheyenne,” he said, his brilliant blue eyes holding her in place. “It’s safer that way.”
She was preparing to argue when she realized that she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to venture out on her own yet anyway. It might be a shock to her system after locking herself away for so long. For laughs, she decided to give him a hard time anyway.
“But…” she started. He cut her off with an upraised hand.
“No buts,” he said sternly. “It’s not safe and you know it, and besides, that’s what you have two strapping young men like us for.” He clapped a grinning Dehstroy on the back.
Cheyenne threw her head back and laughed.
“You, young? Ha!”
“What?” Behr said, acting offended. “I’m young.”
“Prove it,” Cheyenne challenged. “Show me your birth certificate.” When he pursed his lips, she laughed some more. “What’s wrong? Didn’t they make birth certificates yet when you were born? No?” She looked between the men, taking in their sheepish expressions. “Well, then. I’ll leave you two to work on clearing that schedule.” Waving, Cheyenne left the kitchen and headed upstairs to her room to lie down. "
― Brandi Salazar , A Warrior's Betrayal (Brotherhood, #2)
15
" He glanced at Dehstroy, covered from head to toe in leather, courtesy Behr’s closet. He was still on the light side, his body still recovering from decades of torture and being held in a constant state of near starvation while being kept virtually immobile, chained to a dirty, rat feces-covered floor, but he was beginning to fill out now. His muscles were definitely more defined, he thought, catching a hint of pectoral outline through the black cotton T. But, Behr thought, he didn’t compare to his own thick, robust frame.
“What are you grinning about over there?” Dehstroy asked, and Behr wiped his expression clear. “Were you just checking me out?”
“What are you babbling about?” Flipping back his duster, Behr double checked his-hip holster, counting his blades, making sure everything was in its place. Definitely not trying to avoid the question.
“Something you need to tell me?”
Arching a thick brow, Dehstroy flashed a toothy, mocking smile his way.
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you were an A cup or a B.” He shrugged.
Looking down at his chest, Dehstroy adopted a thoughtful expression, then lifted his hands and cupped his pecs. “Nah, you’re way off. Definitely a C cup. "
― Brandi Salazar , A Warrior's Betrayal (Brotherhood, #2)