Overruled

by Lana Ferguson

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 think about Dani’s personality, which reminds me of a feral cat that I can’t stop trying to make like me.

“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. You’re so smart. Even when you’re using that big brain to kick my ass, I’m in awe of you. You’re so beautiful it damn near hurts to look at you. All I think about is touching you, tasting you. I can barely get anything done most days without thinking about it.”

“I want to touch you and know that you’ll still be here when I wake up in the morning. I want to touch you and make you realize that all I ever think about is touching you, that sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me through the day. I want to touch you, Dani, and know that whatever this thing is between us…that you’re in it with me.”

I’ve learned that the loyalty we give because of blood isn’t always deserved.

“Hm. I rather like the idea of working under you.” “This is not a sex thing.” “Everything can be a sex thing if you just believe,” he teases.