Hans (Alliance, #4)

by S.J. Tilly

The mirror is still slightly steamy—accounting for her wet hair when she left the house—and the mix of shampoo, body lotion, and hair products makes me want to roll around on her shaggy bathroom rug. But I don’t. That would be weird.

What do ya know. Stalkers do have boundaries!

“When are you gonna learn that there are consequences for being a brat?” His voice on my neck causes my skin to prickle. “Hopefully right now.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” I gasp even as I feel his exhale on my most private parts. “A bear’s gotta eat,” he growls.

Hans makes a noise, but I can’t focus on it. I can’t focus on anything. Because he’s dragging his tongue up, between my… “Oh, fuck,” I pant again, arching my back, shoving my ass farther into his face as he licks up and over… oh my god.

Oh my.

My hot neighbor just cut my underwear off and is using it like a rope to tie me up.

Last night, the skin was a little raw, but I rubbed some aloe on it, and now you wouldn’t even know I was tied up with my own underwear less than twelve hours ago.

“You have your own body bags. That’s not normal, Hans.”

The Skittles slip off her tongue, igniting my tastebuds. The kiss is sweet. And filthy. And nostalgic.

But when a man that looks like that, like he might pull your soul out of your body through your vagina, you back away.

“God, Butterfly, you’re a fucking freak.”