Toxic

by Nicole Blanchard

It’s a wonder something so mistreated can still respond to the cause of its neglect.

He doesn’t taunt me, but his smile speaks more loudly than words.

“Did someone hurt you, little mouse?”

“A woman like you,” his deep, dark voice follows even as I brush by him to go back to my paperwork, “doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“You seem to think you aren’t my business.” “Probably because I’m not. I’m not sure what makes you think you have the right to interfere, but I don’t need to be saved. I don’t need anything from you.” “That’s where you’re wrong. I think I’m exactly what you need.”

"Let me give you this. One kiss. I promise you'll enjoy it. Let me show you a little something sweet to take away from the sour. One kiss, and if you want me to walk away after I will."

"Gracin," he says, his lips so close they graze the shell of my ear. "My name is Gracin." Then his mouth covers mine.

What kind of person wants more from a man like him? What kind of woman aches for another kiss from a criminal? Me. I want more. I want it all. I want it right here. Again. And again. And again.

His hungry hands are no longer gentle, no longer hesitant. They constrict around my waist until there isn’t a breath of room between our two bodies. Until there’s no denying the hot, hard length of him against my stomach or the wet heat pooling between my legs, scenting the air around us.

“They could walk in at any second and see just what a dirty girl you are.”

“I did what you wanted. Now it’s over.” He nods, but I note he doesn’t confirm or deny that he won’t seek me out again. “Think what you want,” he says instead, “but we’re far from over.”

There is no way to impart logic onto chaos. And that’s exactly what Gracin is. Chaos.

“I would never hurt you, little mouse. That’s why you came to me.”

“I’m playing a most dangerous game, and you’re the prize. Our deal is off, Tessa. I want you, and I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“What if I want you?” he asks quietly.

“You think you don’t want this?” he asks, and I know he doesn’t mean what he’s doing to me, because I can’t deny that I do. Not when I’m screaming for him to do it harder, faster. “You shouldn’t.” His teeth bite into my shoulder. “You shouldn’t want me. I am not a nice man. I am not a good man. I do bad things for bad people.” He licks the bite, and his mouth skims up my throat. “I want to do bad things to you.”

I release the gun, letting it fall to the seat, and he snatches it away. My hand goes to my stomach, not because I’m feeling queasy, though there’s certainly some of that, but to protect the life growing there. The life Gracin and I made and that I’d die to protect.

“Yes,” I shout. “Yes, I want you. I hate you, but I love you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met. You’re in my dreams. I see you everywhere when you’re not around. Despite everything you’ve done to me, I want you, damn it. Does that make you happy?

“Stay with me,” he says right before his mouth finds mine in a soft kiss. “Tell me you’ll stay with me. I can’t lose you.”

As I come around him, surrounded by his arms and anchored by his weight, I know there isn’t a chance in hell I’m giving up another minute without him by my side. If he’s an addiction, I welcome the rush. Give me another hit, and another, and another, until it kills me or gives me a taste of heaven.