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I don’t do sleepovers, I don’t kiss, I don’t cuddle. I’m not the guy who’s going to tell you everything you wanna hear, the one you take home to your parents or tell all your girlfriends about. I’m the guy who fucks you better than you’ve ever been fucked.
I leave a lasting impression, and it’s in the shape of my cock.
If I wasn’t an asshole and I hadn’t told her the score before sticking my dick in her, I might feel bad.
The one thing my father can’t fucking touch, and good thing because everything he touches turns to shit. Like a disease, infecting everything he comes in contact with.
Pride’s a funny thing.
There is absolutely nothing I hate more than being late.
For the first time in my life, I’m doing something for me. And honestly, it feels… liberating.
I’m worried that my restraints have snapped, and I just might take him out with the blade of my skate.
If looks could kill… Well, then he might be the reason I end up on a true crime podcast. Asshole.
“Oh? Nice to meet you, Satan. I’m Lennon. Rousseau.
If there’s one thing about Mais, no matter where she is, she’s likely got a romance novel within arm’s reach. Almost always a paperback because she refuses to read on an e-reader or an iPad, saying that there’s absolutely nothing that could ever replace the feel or the smell of old pages.
It’s always been easy with her, and in the fifteen years that we’ve been friends, I feel like there’s no one who knows and understands me the way that she does.
love u jess & kk
The only thing I learned about this guy was that he’s an ass with a capital A.
As long as I’ve been playing hockey, I’ve learned one thing: goalies are a whole different breed, and Bennett is no exception.
I just like a little touch of violence sometimes. Call it daddy issues, call me depraved or whatever the fuck you want, but it doesn’t make it any less true. At least I’m self-aware.
Alright, Lennon Rousseau, you have my attention.
Lennon Rousseau has surprised me, and that takes a lot. I’ve always been good at reading people.
I like seeing the fire blazing bright in her eyes, and the second I got a glimpse… I wanted more.
“The one and only rule: don’t fall for the bad boy.
“Trust me, the last thing I have to worry about is falling for Saint Devereaux. Hell will freeze over before I catch any kind of feelings for its ruler.”
Something tells me that nothing is safe when it comes to Saint Devereaux and that I should remember that no matter what.
Saint Devereaux is the forbidden fruit. The very thing that tempted Eve in the garden, and I wonder, would he be as deadly as I imagine?
“Don’t forget, Golden Girl, that you’re mine to kiss… touch… whatever I want. Even if it’s just for show.”
He’s the last guy I should ever go for. Brooding bad boy couldn’t be further from my type, yet… I can’t deny it.
Bad boys are for fun only.
I grew up in a broken home, and when you grow up like that, you don’t have big dreams. Growing up, all I ever wanted was a house that no one could take away and a safe place to land.
I have a tendency to push myself to whatever limit there is… mental, physical, emotional… whenever I feel like I’m failing.
“I’m staring because you look good enough to fucking eat, and all I can think about is laying you down right here on this ice, flipping up that little fucking skirt, and seeing just how good your sweet little pussy tastes.”
“Never have I ever kissed someone in an elevator.” His low, raspy words suck the rest of the air out of the room, specifically from my lungs. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss the girl who’s driving me fucking insane with how badly I want my lips on hers in a broken elevator where she looks so goddamn beautiful I feel like I can’t even breathe.”
It’s fucking mine. She’s fucking mine.
“Pretty sure that attitude is what you like best about me, so…”
“Look at the mess you made, Golden Girl,” I rasp, feeling her swirl her tongue around the pad of my thumb, tasting my cum. “Bet you never thought being bad would taste so good, did you?”
“I didn’t know where else to go.” It’s a whisper, his voice rough and uneven as he pauses, holding my gaze. “You’re the only thing in my life that feels right anymore.”
Lennon’s become the only safe space I’ve ever had in my life. She’s trusted me, listened to me, seen me for who I am. She’s the only person who’s witnessed all the ugly, broken, fucked-up parts of me and stayed anyway. And she didn’t just stay; she pulled me closer.
When it comes to Lennon, it feels like I’m spinning out of control, and I have no idea what the fuck to do about that.
“Because it’s mine, baby. You chose me, Lennon, and this is me choosing you.”
“Boy aquarium? The fuck does that even mean?” She shrugs. “Glass… with hockey boys inside. A… fishbowl? You know what? Never mind.”
“Apparently, you’re my thing, Golden Girl.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Lennon. And I’m fucking terrified. Terrified that I’m going to fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to me, terrified that I’ll never be worthy of you no matter how hard I try. But you’re in here.” His fingers curve around my wrist as he lifts my hand and places it on his chest, directly over his heart. “In so fucking deep.”
“I don’t know what it means, and I have no fucking clue where to go from here… I just know that I don’t want to be without you. I can’t be without you, baby.” I
“It’s okay, Saint. It’s enough for me. You are enough for me. I don’t need the perfect words; I just need you. However that needs to be, okay? We’re just going to be us. That’s it.”
Falling for him was as easy as breathing. I think I actually started to fall long before I ever realized it.
“I just can’t stop thinking about all of the things I’m going to do to you later while you wear those heels.”
“Unlike you, I will always put your daughter first. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her. No line I wouldn’t cross. One day, she’s going to find out about all the fucked-up, disgusting shit you’ve done to get ahead, and you know who’s going to be there when she does? Me, motherfucker.”
“I love you, Lennon. I meant every word I said to your father. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. No line I wouldn’t cross. I’m sorry that I fucked up so badly. I’m sorry that I was so fucking lost. But I’m not lost anymore. Not with you.”
