Overruled

by Lana Ferguson

Fucking Ezra Hart.

“Did you come all the way over here just to yell at me, or did you actually miss me?” “Hardly.” “Too bad,” he murmurs. My nose wrinkles. “Why?” “Because I’ve missed you.”

He says that I feel good, but it should be illegal, how he feels. It should be a goddamned crime.

He blinks once, then twice, his hands still reaching slightly as if the fact that he isn’t touching me anymore hasn’t quite caught up to his brain.

“Right,” he chuckles. “You really do make a habit of comparing me to activities involving your mouth.”

I just…can’t seem to stop wanting to touch her. If she’s in the room, my hands itch. If she’s nearby, my eyes gravitate to her. Even when she’s tearing into me, I can’t bring myself to be annoyed. I just enjoy her talking to me at all.

“You and I make sparks fly,” he says, looking proud of himself. I groan. “That was awful.” “You’ll laugh about it later.”

Ezra is talking to my father with my panties in his pocket.

Asshole: Next time I want you in a bed, and I want you for the whole night. Maybe it will be enough time to do the things I’ve been thinking about doing to you.

I can’t exactly say that the woman I’ve been fucking obsessed with and obsessed with fucking for months might finally be caving to the idea of tolerating me outside of sex.

“I came over here because seeing you was the only thing in the world that I could think of that might make this day less of a goddamned nightmare.”

Like I want to kiss him and throw him out all at once.

“You want me to use you, Dani?” “Maybe I do.” I give another broad sweep of my tongue against him. “Maybe I want it hard.” His eyes flare with heat, his lip rolling between his teeth again. “Then open that pretty mouth,” he says roughly. “I want to dirty it up.”

“Dani,” he laughs, actually laughs. “I walked away from that woman whose face I can’t even remember because from the second I saw you, for every fucking moment since—there hasn’t been anyone in my head but you.” He laughs again. “You might as well live there now.”

“I told you, Dani,” he says carefully. “I haven’t been able to see anyone else but you since the night I laid eyes on you.”

“Everything about you is a fucking dream.

“I think it’s just you,” he utters, breathy and soft. “You’re in my head, and I don’t know how to get you out. I don’t even think I want to.”

“I didn’t say I would come,” I argue feebly. Ezra’s grin is warm and bright, and I feel it lighting up parts of me that have long been in the shadows, leaving me feeling exposed.

She looks just like I feel.

“Are you an expert on the subject?” “No, but I’d like to be an expert on you, eventually.”

“You really think you’re smooth, don’t you.” “Mm.” He drops another kiss to the tip of my nose. “I know I’m smooth, baby.”

“Fuck, Dani. I really like you greedy.” I don’t argue. It’s pointless. I am greedy for him.

I shake my head, but I can feel myself grinning. “Idiot.” “But I’m your idiot.”

“I’ve been yours for ages, Dani,” he says, his voice a low, sweet murmur. “I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

That this prickly woman with her hidden smile and her fierce demeanor has somehow become the reason I get out of bed in the morning, the person I think about just before I go to sleep. She’s become everything. And I’m completely, irrevocably in love with her.

Don’t go, I want to beg. Stay in my hair. Nest there, for all I care.

I’ve learned that the loyalty we give because of blood isn’t always deserved. It’s something I wish I’d learned a lot sooner, but all I can do is try to make up for it now.”

“Don’t you know?” I lean in, brushing my lips across hers, smiling. “I’ve loved you for ages, Dani. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

“Miss me faster.” “Has anyone ever told you that you top from the bottom?”

“I am never”—his lips press to my cheek—“ever”—they briefly touch between my eyes—“changing my mind about you. You’re stuck with me, Sour Patch.”

“There’s never going to be a ‘last time,’ Dani. Not for you and me.”