Seducing the Saint (Melissa Schroeder in Charming the Snake) – Chapter Three

If you still remember [I know, I didn’t have time for the snark these past days], we left Libby and Brady pressed against a wall, with Robbie Masters knocking on the door, offering his help.

And because it’s a bad, bad world, anybody who offers their help cannot be trusted. Ever.

Liberty watched Brady raise his finger to his lips. The muscle in his jaw [Which one? As far as I can recall, there’s more than one muscle in the jaw.] twitched as he ground his teeth together. From the narrowed-eyed look he sent her, he wasn’t happy with the situation. [Why? Wasn’t he like BFF with Robbie a couple of chapters ago?]

Libby pretends to be a poor damsel in distress to lure out some information, while Brady’s muscles still twitch. This times, it’s his lips, not his jaw. Robbie tells her that he’s a friend of Saint’s (aka Brady) and Brady looks “ready to laugh out loud” and that Brady told him that she might need help to find her father.

Instantly, Brady’s predatory instincts take over [triggered through what, exactly, I have no idea. One minute he’s almost laughing, the next he’s ready to attack. Multiple Personality?]:

He moved in behind her, pressing against her back. Instantly, every thought in her brain faded as heat singed along her nerve endings. [Ouch?] The scent of him filled her senses. His breath brushed her earlobe, and she suppressed a shiver. [Oh yes, that I can understand perfectly… Never touch or breath on my earlobes, unless you’re looking for some action.]
“Open the door, slowly. Get him in the room.” [Now we’re getting kinky…] Whisper-soft, his command should have irritated the hell out of her. [But a threesome sounded pretty good, so she wasn’t pissed at all.] She liked to be the one giving orders when working. [There’s a time for not following orders and for showing someone, who the boss is and there’s a time for not doing that. I actually don’t know, what time it is right now, but that still holds true.] It was something that had always been a problem between the two of them. But she couldn’t get past the fact that his breath was against her skin or that her nipples had hardened the moment he stepped behind her. [Her nipples must have a pop-up function.]
Liberty turned her head and looked up at him. The moment his gaze caught hers, the breath she was taking tangled in her throat. The intensity in his blue eyes sparked a fire in her stomach. A wave of sensual longing wound through her. [Can a wave wind? This sounds a bit weird, doesn’t it?] She could feel his heartbeat against her back accelerate the moment they made eye contact. Damp heat slid from her belly to between her legs. [So, that’s where it comes from… I see, I see…] Shifting her weight, Liberty brushed against his erection, and both of them stopped breathing. Brady closed his eyes, visibly swallowed, and drew in a deep breath. [Don’t you think that Robbie Masters would be a bit irritated by all the heavy breathing going on in there? If I stood in front of a door, having a conversation with the person behind it and suddenly, there was a silence, followed by some moaning, I’d leave as quickly as possible.]

Well, finally Libby is able to open the door and does so to a tall, handsome, several-times-broken-nose, boyish charme type – Robbie Masters. He comes in, Brady grabs him and twists his arm, while Libby closes the door again.

Robbie is – understandably, I might add – surprised at Brady’s behaviour and tries to find out what’s going on, while Brady almost strangles him to death. Libby stops him (Brady that is), though, by pointing out that human beings need to breathe.

They disarm Robbie and Brady starts interrogating.

“Now, what do you want with Libby?”
(… yadda yadda … this has to be about money… yadda yadda…)
Masters rubbed his neck then smiled. “Not always money. I have other wants.”
She heard the challenge in his voice, but didn’t understand anything. [How daft can a person be? If it isn’t about money aka power, it’s about sex. And even when it’s about power, actually it’s about sex. Not that difficult, is it?] Whatever it was, Brady’s fist shot out before she could stop him. Masters flew backward, chair and all. Both crashed against the wall. [Holy fucking shit! Do you know how much force it takes to do that? Maybe Brady is a jedi.] So much for keeping it quiet.
Masters slowly rose to his feet and moved his jaw back and forth. His lip was bleeding. [Only his lip? Is he made of steel?] “Jesus, Saint. I thought she was free territory.”
“You thought wrong.” [Because the ex boyfriend always gets to decide whether or not a girl is ready for a new relationship. Or maybe just to fuck someone else.] Brady’s voice held the same lethal tone as before. And a second later, their comments hit home. [FINALLY.]

Libby explodes and Brady-the-asshole laughs about her anger, then asks Masters whether it surely wasn’t about the Snake King and then things get even worse than before.

Masters grinned, but then winced and touched his lip with his sleeve. “What other reason would I have? You know me. I don’t go after anything unless it’s a sure thing.”
Anger simmered. “A sure thing? A sure thing?” [Well, don’t you know that girls don’t get a say in whether or not they fall in love with somebody or not? If a man is kind enough to turn his attention to one woman, she really has to be happy, fall in love and accept it with open arms.]
“Easy there, sweets, you’re repeating yourself.” He turned to look at Masters. “She does that when she gets irritated.” [And Brady-the-Asshole does this because two men are always closer than a man and a woman can ever be, even when one of the guys just beat the other one up.]
She shot him what she hoped was a withering glance and gathered up her bag.
“Are you ready to go?” She tried her best to hide her anger, [Why? You should really tell him that you’re angry and that he’s an asshole and a bastard and not the one giving out Libby-portions and he really shouldn’t discuss you with somebody else, especially not when you’re present.] but she knew some of it threaded her voice, because Brady smiled at her. Damn jackass. [Oh yes…]
“And she ignores comments she doesn’t like, when she’s really pissed.” [Shut up, you stupid asshole… really…]

Brady-the-Asshole givces Robbie a good hit on the head with his gun, knocking him unconscious. Then he looks through his pockets, because Robbie usually gets out of trouble too easily and Brady-the-asshole doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t find anything, and they ride off through the backdoor, probably into the sunrise.


Brady-the-Asshole and Libby of the Weird Name made it to the ship safely, although he is convinced that they’re being followed and Libby tends to agree, but doesn’t have a problem with it.
While she raids the refrigerator, Brady-the-Asshole almost comes into his pants because of the sight of her ass, picturing himself taking her from behind, which she always liked.

Libby comments about his ship and how it looks too expensive for him.

“I… ah…” What the hell were they talking about? Fuck. [No, that’s not what you were talking about. You were only thinking about it.] “Um, well, I did that teaching stint in New York last year to make some extra cash. I didn’t want to depend on hiring a ship.” His smile was self-deprecating as he remembered one really bad job. “I think both of us learned that lesson.”
She returned the smile. “That excavation in Miradan was a shit job.” [Was the excavation the problem, or the ship? Why don’t you tell us, what’s going on?] For a moment, the memory of shared history shimmered between them. [Like a Fata Morgana?] Familiar heat crawled through him – – the dangerous kind, at that. [Ohhh dangerous heat…] This wasn’t just lust, and never had been. They’d both had their hearts involved before [before what?] or it wouldn’t have hurt so badly when it fell apart.

Libby turns back and tries to find something edible in the refrigerator. Her voice deepens, which can only be because she felt the dangerous heat and not because it’s muffled, because she’s got her head in the fridge. And because there can be no other explanation for a suddenly deeper voice (a cold from standing in front of the fridge for too long?) than arousal and Brady-the-Asshole knows that Libby is a rocket in bed, he can’t help himself any longer. [Yes, I’m aware of the rape connotations here. I’m actually going for them.]

As desire threaded through his veins, he moved behind her. He placed both hands on her ass and smoothed them up to her lower back. She stilled as he stepped closer, pressing his cock against her. She straightened and shivered. He leaned his head over her shoulder, bringing his face even with hers.
“Ahh, lass.”
“D-Don’t use that old ploy. I won’t fall for the Irish charm this time, asshole.”
Her voice shook. His heart jumped at the telltale sign of her arousal. He slid his hands around to her stomach. One descended to cup her sex. Wet heat warmed his hand. His dick twitched against her. Closing his eyes, he hummed. The musky scent of her arousal filled his senses. He moved his other hand to her breast. Gently, slowly, he grazed the tip of her nipple with his fingers.
“I beg to differ with you. And, darlin’, your body agrees.”

Although I could comment on the use of arousal here and a few other things, I want nothing to distract from the fact that she basically says no, calling him an asshole and he completely ignores that, more or less telling her that because her body reacts to the stimulation, she has no right to say no anymore.

I see rape happening here, at the very least sexual harassment. That is not okay. Not at all. And we’re supposed to see Brady-the-Harassing-Asshole as the hero of the story? No fucking way.

If there’s no miracle happening in the next chapter, he’s the very definition of anti-hero, abusing the girl emotionally and physically. Gaah.


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