Scarred Teaser #3…

Here’s the latest teaser to tide you over for another month. Enjoy 🙂

 

Wiggling my way under the bed, I hoped to score a pair of black, spandex
shorts. My efforts were quickly derailed.

“Why do I seem to always get this view of you?” Sean purred from
somewhere in my room. It startled me enough to make me whack my head on
the bed rail.

“Ouch!” I yelled, trying to rub the growing bump in the confined space.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, his voice moving closer, “I enjoy the
view immensely, but seriously, Ruby…if I had a dollar for every time I caught
you like this, I could buy another car.”

“You could buy another car regardless,” I argued, ass still hanging out from
under the bed. “Maybe you should stop barging in on people when you’re not
invited and you wouldn’t have this problem at all.”

“Maybe you should try cleaning your room so you wouldn’t have this
problem.”

He had a point.

“Fine,” I yelled from under the bed, grabbing what I thought were shorts.
“You win. I’ll clean.” I shimmied back out on my belly and came to stand in
front of him. I held up the black fabric that—amazingly enough—turned out to be
what I was looking for.

Sean eyed the tiny strip of fabric with a dash of
amusement.

“Are those for a six-year-old?”

“They stretch!” I said, slapping him playfully in the chest with object in
question. “Jerk.”

He tried to contain his laughter, but failed miserably, sending me out of the
room, eyes rolling, to the bathroom so I could change. I emerged seconds later
wearing only the tiny shorts and a tank top.

All the playfulness drained from his face.

 

 

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Framed Teaser #3

Here’s a scene with Ruby and Sean…enjoy!

He took my elbow in his hand from behind and jerked me into the opening of the nearest alley. My back was pressed uncomfortably against the brick facade only moments before he crammed his face in mine.

“I know you are, Ruby, but there is much at stake and you need to put on those big girl panties that you love to talk about so much and deal—deal with it, deal with life, and deal with me. I know you’re hurting. You think I like that? I don’t, but if hurting you keeps you alive, I’ll do it time and time again. You can hate me for that all you want; I’m tired of apologizing for the decisions I have to make, the job I have to do, and the past I can’t escape. You’re not the only one with problems, nor are you the only one less than pleased with the hand you’ve been dealt.” 

He spoke low and in my ear, and the sound lulled me slightly, even though his message was jarring. When he pulled back to stare me down, I felt sleepy and unstable, like the feeling you have when you jump off the table too quickly following a long massage. It took me a moment to sober up. 

I looked up at his face and saw his eyes had darkened as they always did when his emotions intensified, good or bad. I wanted to say something clever to get the last jab in, but I decided against it, thinking my anti-response would be far more poignant. 

I walked away instead.