Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras book 7)
“The last she’d caught was that Chicklet was taking off, understanding, but a little irritated, that Vanek had taken a cab to the hospital rather than wait for her.
Before Pischlar and White showed up, Sahara had been grateful for Chicklet’s company. But now she just wanted to get out of here. And Chicklet didn’t seem to want her to leave with them.
“You can’t be serious, Chicklet.” Pischlar sighed, not looking overly upset, but maybe a little tired. “You trust me with your sub, but not ...with Sahara?”
White snorted. “She trusted you to fuck her sub. And Zovko was right th—”
Chicklet’s fist caught White right in the eye. White stumbled back against Pischlar’s car, making no effort to even protect himself when Chicklet fisted her hand in the collar of his shirt.
Her eyes were as deadly as a snake’s, her tone not much better. “I’m getting real tired of your mouth, boy.MoreLess
Before Pischlar and White showed up, Sahara had been grateful for Chicklet’s company. But now she just wanted to get out of here. And Chicklet didn’t seem to want her to leave with them.
“You can’t be serious, Chicklet.” Pischlar sighed, not looking overly upset, but maybe a little tired. “You trust me with your sub, but not ...with Sahara?”
White snorted. “She trusted you to fuck her sub. And Zovko was right th—”
Chicklet’s fist caught White right in the eye. White stumbled back against Pischlar’s car, making no effort to even protect himself when Chicklet fisted her hand in the collar of his shirt.
Her eyes were as deadly as a snake’s, her tone not much better. “I’m getting real tired of your mouth, boy.MoreLess
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