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“We don’t have to do this the painful way,” he said quietly. “I was very much looking forward to the painful way.”
“Jersey. What the fu—.” “No,” I interrupted. “You don’t get to be dramatic about this. You dick kicked me and made me hunt your ass back down. I’m not doing that every time I open this trunk. This is on you.” “Maybe you should try not putting me in the fucking trunk.” I tightened the zip tie around her ankles and put my hands up on the hatch to get ready to pull it back down. “Uh huh, I’ll think real hard about that.”
He was delivering me back to my literal death. The least that he could do in return for that was not be fucking beautiful.
What in the actual fuck? Who was this teeny tiny Rambo?
“Are you picking a fight? Or flirting with me?” He asked. “Yes.”
“It’d be my fucking pleasure to show you just how easily I could ruin regular men for you, Fancy Face.”
“If you don’t want this to happen, I need you to say something now. This is the only chance I’m going to give you to tell me to stop before I fuck you right into tears. And you can think about it for a second before you decide. You probably should.” The way that thumb continued back and forth over my lip. Jesus. “I’ve never been gentle with you, Fancy Face, and I don’t intend to start now. This won’t be slow and easy. I want your screams. I want you to break your fingernails on my skin. I want the fucking air in your lungs.”
I wanted to fucking stab her, and I wanted to kiss her. What a strange way to feel about someone.
I kissed her the same way that I planned to fuck her, like I hated her.
Hate and love both hold hands with passion. They both make people do equally crazy things and the line between them disappears while you think you’re staring right at it.”
“A soulmate doesn’t just happen by chance,” she said. “It’s not somebody you just stumble across. Soulmates are made. I think you decide that you want somebody. You have to keep choosing that somebody every second of every day. You have to decide that they’re worth all the shitty days, that you’d miss the sound of their snoring more than you’d ever want the quiet nights back, that their broken pieces can fit together with your own so you both have a little better chance at being whole.”
“That wasn’t a request,” he whispered. “You can get on your knees on your own, or I can put you on them. Makes no difference to me.”
You’re a whole fucking tragedy wrapped up in this tiny, annoyingly perfect bundle of mayhem,” he hissed at me. “And I’ve never wanted anything quite like I want to find out if I can fuck the crazy out of you.”
“Only good girls get called good girl,” he said. “Bad girls end up in my handcuffs. They choke on my dick. Bad girls get fucked in every way imaginable until they beg me to stop. And then I fuck them a little harder.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite as stunning as you are when you break for me.”
“Let it happen, baby,” I whispered. “Break for me. And shatter me with you.”
I can’t help but wonder why I can’t hate you the way that I want?” He asked. “I think maybe it’s because fighting with you is like screaming into a fucking mirror.”
“I hate you,” she said into my chest. I hate me too, baby.
