The Black Dagger Brotherhood_ An Insider's Guide - J. R. Ward [141]
“No.”
She fought against him again, creating a delicious friction between their bodies. And he knew the moment when the anxiety and irritation turned to something hot. He smelled her arousal, a lovely sweetening in the air, and his body answered her call.
He got hard as a diamond.
“Talk to me, Mary.” He moved his hips in a slow circle against her, rubbing his erection on her belly, increasing his ache and her heat.
After a moment the tension eased out of her, softening her against the thrust of his muscles and his arousal. Her hands flattened on his waist. And then slowly slid around to the small of his back, as if she were unsure why she was responding to him the way she was.
He arched against her, to show his approval and encourage her to touch more of him. When her palms moved up his spine, he growled low in his throat and dropped his head down so his ear was closer to her mouth. He wanted to give her another word to say, something like luscious or whisper or strawberry.
Hell, antidisestablishmentarianism would do it.
pp. 62-63
“Christ. You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that? No impulse control but totally single-minded. Helluva combination.”
p. 74
“Okay, whadda we got here,” he said, opening his own. “Let’s have the Chicken Alfredo. The NY strip, rare. And a cheeseburger, also rare. Double on the fries. And some nachos. Yeah, I want the nachos with everything on them. Double that, too, will you?”
Mary could only stare as he closed the menu and waited.
The waitress looked a little awkward. “Is all that for both you and your sister?”
As if family obligation was the only reason a man like him would be out with a woman like her. Oh, man . . .
“No, that’s for me. And she’s my date, not my sister. Mary?”
“I . . . ah, I’ll just have a Caesar salad, whenever his”—feeding trough?—“dinner comes.”
pp. 87-88
“You’re getting into some kind of shape, cop.”
“Aw, come on, now.” Butch grinned. “Don’t let that shower we took go to your head.”
Rhage fired a towel at the male. “Just pointing out your beer gut’s gone.”
“It was a Scotch pot. And I don’t miss it.”
p. 117
“The female threw me out of her house early this morning after doing a job on my ego.”
“What kind of hatchet did she use?”
“An unflattering comparison between me and a free-agent canine.”
“Ouch.” Butch twisted the shirt in the other direction. “So naturally, you’re dying to see her again.”
“Pretty much. ”
“You’re pathetic.”
“I know.”
“But I can almost beat that.” The cop shook his head. “Last night, I . . . ah . . . I drove out to Marissa’s brother’s house. I don’t even know how the Escalade got there. I mean, the last thing I need is to run into her, you feel me?”
“Let me guess. You waited in hopes of catching a—”
“In the bushes, Rhage. I sat in the bushes. Under her bedroom window.”
“Wow. That’s . . .”
“Yeah. In my old life I could have arrested me for stalking. Look, maybe we should change the topic.”
p. 118
One look at the movie collection and he knew he was in trouble. There were a lot of foreign titles, some deeply sincere American ones. A couple of golden oldies like An Affair to Remember. Casa-fucking-blanca.
Absolutely nothing by Sam Raimi or Roger Corman. Hadn’t she heard of the Evil Dead series?
pp. 150-151
“Shit, you’ve bonded with her.” Wrath put a hand through his long hair. “For God’s sake . . . You just met her, my brother. ”
“And how long did it take you to mark Beth as your own? Twenty-four hours? Oh, right, you waited two days. Yeah, good thing you gave it some time.”
Wrath let out a short laugh. “You gotta keep bringing my shellan into it, don’t you?”
p. 200
Oh, the humanity.
The Austin Powers boxed set. Aliens and Alien. Jaws. All the Naked Guns. Godzilla. Godzilla. Godzilla . . . wait, the rest of this whole shelf was Godzilla. She went one lower. Friday the 13th, Halloween, Nightmare