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And he takes his sweet time considering, his eyes crawling over my face, my body, the sweat on my lip, the tear in my shirt…I can’t tell if he loathes me or wants to eat me.
“And…what do I have to do?” This smile is the worst of all because it’s the most genuine. “You’ll do whatever I ask. Come tomorrow evening—and bring that tool bag with you.”
Plus, I liked how her body looked, sweating and straining to cut through that chain. The sun shone through her thin shirt, revealing the shape of her dark nipples and the silver glint of rings. That was the first filthy thought I had about her—the impulse to tie her to the bed so I could slowly tug and twist on those rings… A dozen others followed. The temptations came hard and fast, images of what I’d like to do with her hands, her mouth…
Her smile changes everything about her looks. Without it, she’s barely pretty, but her grin throws the switch at the amusement park. Her whole face lights up, neon bright.
Why do hotness and assholery go hand in hand?
“I heard someone downstairs,” I say rather lamely. “Playing the piano.” “What song?” That trips me up again. He’s so…infuriating. “They weren’t playing My Heart Will Go On,” I snap. “It was a couple of notes.”
“Seven o’clock tonight. And no need to bang on the door; I’ll be waiting.”
“I bet his favorite person is Ted Bundy.” “Then start stabbin’—‘cause we need to stay in his good graces.”
Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head in matching green aprons,
She probably thinks she doesn’t need one because her tits are so tiny, and I guess she doesn’t if her only concern is big breasts bouncing around. But she definitely needs one if she doesn’t want my cock to stand at attention anytime she’s near.
I love how intent she is on appearing strong and composed, while it’s obvious she’s completely fucked up inside. Takes one to know one, baby.
I’m sprinting across the yard before she’s had a chance to move, scooping her up in my arms and carrying her into the house. I had no intention of bringing her inside, but it’s instinct.
She’s wearing a white cotton thong, and she’d have to be a lot closer to death for me to fail to notice how it clings to her pussy lips and the little nub in between…
I can smell the faintest hint of her sweet, sweet cunt. I’ve never smelled a woman’s pussy before I’ve even kissed her lips. It takes everything I have not to hook my finger under the cotton gusset and pull it to the side so I can see if her pussy is as velvety as the rest of her skin…if it’s pink inside or dark like her nipples…
Remi watches, her eyes fixed on my hands. She won’t look away. I wish she would, so I could confirm if that little nub between her pussy lips is metal or flesh…
Hands are my kink—they show everything about a man’s competence. The way they move, the way they touch….a well-shaped hand resting on a steering wheel or shifting gears…I could come just thinking about it.
“I have a condition that makes me sensitive to the sun.” “Oh.” I’m trying not to examine him under the lens of this new information. “Like a vampire?”
More stupid thoughts because it doesn’t matter if Dane is dating anyone. He won’t be dating me because he’s probably not interested, potentially a murderer, most definitely coercive, and if that weren’t enough, we have nothing in common.
I like his eyes on me, even while I can barely stand it.
When I make a joke Dane doesn’t want to acknowledge, he has to pause and unclench his jaw. It’s becoming my favorite thing to watch.
His mouth crashes down on mine, hot, wet, and aggressive. His other hand slips under my shirt and seizes my nipple, squeezing hard.
“So, no, I didn’t stitch you up to help you…,” he whispers in my ear. “I did it because I want my fence fixed…and because I liked cutting off your shorts.”
“Your manners are shit,” I inform him. “That’s not how you tell a girl you think she’s beautiful.”
Oh, no…please don’t tell me I like this…
I never thought I could feel envious of that pickled turnip.
What I want to do is string her up in my basement and whip those tiny tits until they’re rosy as apples, and then I want to turn her around and do the same to her ample ass. I want to build her pleasure and pain in layers until she’s sweating and shaking and begging, until the slightest flick of her nipple brings her to tears, and the touch of my tongue against her clit makes her scream my name until her throat is raw.
I decide it for certain, right there in that moment. I’m going to taste that mouth again. I’m going to feel her firm little body in my arms. And I’m going to make her respond to me exactly how I want. And Remi—my messy, stubborn, rebellious little treat—is going to look up into my face with so much more than calmness. She’ll look at me with the kind of desire that makes her legs go limp and her thoughts melt out of her brain.
My heart is still racing. He smoothed his silvery hair back, and now he’s standing there with his hands tucked in his pockets like he wasn’t just making me moan ninety seconds ago. No, it was much more than moaning…he turned my brain inside out.
I don’t like aggressive sex. Or at least…I didn’t think I did.
He’s gorgeous like men aren’t supposed to be gorgeous—like he’s his own kind of creature.
A murderer couldn’t be that good of a kisser. The universe couldn’t be that cruel.
I shouldn’t have left like that, but I couldn’t stand those carrot-topped fuckers swarming her. Whispering in her ear.
The flare of rage and envy is so potent, it feels like I could drop my pants and my cock would glow red hot like a poker.
noticed that in our last session—she likes to obey. This is a girl with Mommy and Daddy issues, trying to please the parents that left her holding the bag. Well, they’re not here. But I am…and I love to be pleased.
I could admit if I’d been irrational. And I could try to change. Maybe someone who’d gone mad could never truly be sane, but I could be rational. If all I’d been before was irrational.
Thank god the wind has picked up because I’m making sounds so wild that I need a storm to drown them.
Dane wraps his arms around me and gives me the kind of hug that could prevent a war if all the right people could get it. The kind that makes you feel comforted head to toe.
Love, trust, and respect—you can’t have one without the others.