1
" Do you see that man in the black Porsche?" I asked the women.They squinted out at Ranger. " Yes," they said." Your partner." " He's homeless. He's looking for a place to stay and he might be interested in renting Singh's room." Mrs.Apusenja's eyes widened. " We could use the income." She looked at Nonnie and then back at Ranger. " Is he married?" " Nope. He's single. He's a real catch." Connie did something between a gasp and a snort and buried her head back behind the computer. " Thank you for everything." Mrs.Apusenja said. " I suppose you are not such a bad slut. I will go talk to your partner.:" Omigod," Connie said, when the door closed behind the Apusenja's. " Ranger's going to kill you." The Apusenjas stood beside the Porsche, talkig to Ranger for a few long minutes, giving him the big sales pitch. The pitch wound down, Ranger responded, and Mrs. Apusenja looked disappointed. The two women crossed the road and got into the burgundy Escort and quickly drove away. Ranger turned his head in my direction and our eyes met. His expression was still bemused, but this time it was the sort of bemused expression a kid has when he's pulling the wings off a fly." Uh-Oh," Connie said. I whipped around and faced Connie. " Quick, give me an FTA. You're backed up, right? For God's sake, give me something fast. I need a reason to stand here until he calms down!" Connie shoved a pile of folders at me. " Pick one. Any one! Oh shit, he's getting out of his car." ....He leaned into me and his lips brushed the shell of my ear. " Feeling playful?" " I don't know what you're talking about." " Watch your back babe. I will get even." -Ranger and Stephanie "
3
" She tried to tear herself away from him. The effort broke against his arms that had not felt it. Her fists beat against his shoulders, against his face. He moved one had, took her two wrists, pinned them behind her, under his arm, wrenching her shoulder blades. She twisted her head back. She felt his lips on her breast. She tore herself free…She fought like an animal. But she made no sound. She did not call for help. She heard the echoes of her blows in a gasp of his breath, and she knew that it was a gasp of pleasure…She felt the hatred and his hands; his hands moving over her body, the hands that broke granite. She fought the last convulsion. Then the sudden pain shot up, through her body, to her throat, and she screamed. Then she laid still. It was an act that could be performed in tenderness, as a seal of love, or in contempt, as a symbol of humiliation and conquest. It could be an act of a lover or the act of a soldier violating an enemy woman. He did it as an act of scorn. Not as love, but as defilement. And this made her still and submit…the act of a master taking shameful , contemptuous possession of her was the kind of rapture she had wanted… "
― Ayn Rand , The Fountainhead
8
" You stopped,” she whispered, looking surprised.
“This isn’t the place,” he replied.
For a moment her face showed no change of expression. Then, almost as if someone were pulling a shade over her face, horror dawned. It started in her eyes, which grew impossibly round and somehow even more green than usual, then it reached her mouth, her lips parting as a gasp of air rushed in.
“I didn’t think,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“I know.” He smiled. “I know. I hate it when you think. It always ends badly for me.”
“We can’t do this again.”
“We certainly can’t do it here.”
“No, I mean—”
“You’re spoiling it.”
“But—”
“Humor me,” he said, “and let me believe the afternoon ended without your telling me this will never happen again.”
“But—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “You’re not humoring me.”
“But—”
“Don’t I deserve this one little fantasy?”
At last, he broke through. She smiled.
“Good,” he said. “That’s more like it.”
Her lips quivered, then, amazingly, her smile grew.
“Excellent,” he murmured. “Now then, I’m going to leave. And you have only one task while I go. You will stay right here, and you will keep smiling. Because it breaks my heart to see any other expression on your face.”
“You won’t be able to see me,” she pointed out.
He touched her chin. “I’ll know.”
And then, before her expression could change from that enchanting combination of shock and adoration, he left.
-Sophie & Benedict "
― Julia Quinn , An Offer From a Gentleman (Bridgertons, #3)
10
" Do you mean to tell me’, he growled a the Dursleys, ‘that this boy- this boy! - knows nothin’ abou’ - about ANYTHING?’
Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks were’nt bad.
’I know some things,’ he said. ’ I can, you know, do maths and stuff.’
But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, ‘About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer’ parents world.’
‘What world?’
Hagrid looked at though he was about to explode.
‘DURSLEY!’ he boomed.
Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like ’Mimblewimble’.
Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.
‘But yeh must know about yer mum and dad’, he said. ’I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.
‘What? My - my mum and dad weren’t famous, were they?’
‘Yeh don’ know... yeh don’ know...’ Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.
‘Yeh don’ know what yeh are?’ he said finally.
Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.
‘Stop!’ he commanded, ’stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!’
A braver man than Vernon dudley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.
‘You never told him? Never told him what was in the latter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you kept it from him all these years?’
‘Kept what from me?’ said Harry eagerly.
‘STOP! I FORBID YOU!’ yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.
Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.
’Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,’ said Hagrid. ‘Harry - yer a wizard. "
― J.K. Rowling , Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Harry Potter, #1)
