Endurance (Harris Brothers, #2)

by Amy Daws

I wouldn’t marry Tanner Harris if he was the last tosser on Earth, especially now that he’s been sleeping around like he’s got a terminal disease and he’s trying to live out his last days permanently buried inside the Republic of Labia.

A man should be as he is meant to be. Manly, hairy, and masculine.

“You should buckle up.” He groans and rubs his head. “You should come with a warning label. Dangerous machinery, proceed with caution.”

I open the cubby that hides my secret stash of Cadburys and begin nibbling on a dark chocolate bar. It tastes divine. It’s smooth and creamy with fruity notes that makes my inner fat girl purr with satisfaction.

“All I see is a man trying to find his way without his brother by his side anymore.”

“I’d like to punch you, but your bloody face looks like an angel and I’m afraid it would secure my seat in hell.” She laughs and shuffles closer to me. “I’m going to say another thing that will make you want to punch me.”

“Most women call this their thigh tickler.”

I can’t help but feel like I’m witnessing a religious experience. She offers me a bite on more than one occasion, but I refuse because I don’t want to take a single bit away from the show I’m enjoying more than I care to admit. It’s ten times better than any foreplay I’ve ever had.

She’s a witch. A temptress. She’s got me completely under her chocolatey, crazy chick spell and I’m entranced.

Their vaginas are directly wired to their hearts. My dick is directly wired to my dick, like an infinity sign with a constant revolving movement. Shag and bag. Shag and bag.

I really hate him. But mostly, I hate my attraction to him. That dumb, boyish smirk and the way he shakes his head from side to side to get his hair out of his face. And that stupid sweatband I’ve seen him wear around his forehead when he’s on the pitch makes him look like a complete man-child. But he did not look like a child when he was naked in my car the other night. And he did not feel like a child when he was pressed up against me in the alley two nights ago. He certainly kisses like a man.

“The things I could do to your body are endless, Belle Ryan. You’re fucking perfect and you know it. You’re the kind of woman blokes marry, not fuck and leave!”

“Fuck me, I’ve died and gone to tit heaven.”

Her heavy breathing slows and she bites her lip, her eyes crashing on mine. I see her throat move before she finally replies, “I’m beautiful.”

But if it’s a choice between eliminating chocolate from my life or a softer landing on my arse, I’ll pick a soft landing every day and twice on Sundays.

That mouth will be my ruin.

It feels almost as if you’re taking an angel from heaven and demanding that God give them their own life first.”

“So if a call is all it takes to get you back in that position, baby, you better watch your mobile because I’m going to blow it the fuck up.”

“Because I’ve wanted to taste you since forever, but I can’t seem to stop myself from fucking you. So I want your sweet little pussy to use my face as a chair until I beg for air.”

“Is it weird I like my mark on you?”

“There’s always sunshine above the chaos, ladies. Celebrate it.”

“After a shower to wash the stink off, I’m sure I can think of a couple of things.” Tanner shoots me a mock-surprised look. “Why, Dr. Ryan, are you hitting on me?”

swizzle stick

Even though in the end, we all end up alone.”

“Even though I never want to attend another one of their parties for as long as I live, I still want to be invited.”

“No, Belle. Eyes on me.” He pulls my face down to him. “I see you.”

“The crazy ones are always the most surprising.”

Nothing else will ever feel so big when I’m able to save something so small.

“There’s a lot I want to do and say, but first we need to get one thing straight.” His steely eyes bore into me. “You are mine, Belle. In whatever fucked up way we’re doing this right now, you are mine.”

“I act like a maniac for you. We have issues, but past all of them is the fact that I want you and you want me.”

“That’s all you have to do.” He breathes in deeply. “Because I’m already yours.”

“No more fake dating. No more bullshit. You’re mine. I’m yours. We walk back in there and we act like it. But this time, it’s not an act.”

“Woman, say you’re mine.” I sigh against his lips. “Why do you need to hear it so badly?” “Because I fucked up once and I won’t do it again.”

‘When you don’t know what to do, sit still.’”

I see you now and I can’t look away.” She blinks slowly, a softness in her eyes that consumes me. “You make other women look tame and boring. You’re fucking incredible.” I kiss her deeply, inhaling her gasp. “My beautiful.” Kiss. “Crazy.” Kiss. “Wild.” Kiss. “Woman.”

But once you have someone that you don’t want to let go, it makes you wish you never would have taken hold of anyone else.

Skin to skin, heart to heart. A soft baby cheek pressing against Vi’s collarbone. A pink blanket covers the baby’s back and Vi’s exposed chest.

taking risks, because the reward of the climb surpasses the risk of the fall. And it always will.

“Well, maybe you should just end it and save us both such an emotional rollercoaster!” she retorts. “I like the ride!” I explode, shoving a hand through my hair. “I like that frightening twinkle you get in your eyes when you go off the rails.”

“So your crazy is showing. Who gives a fuck!”

“Belle, my soul has grown with you. So much so, I wonder if it would have shrunk into nothing if I’d never met you.”

“First, and most important, is how they make you feel about yourself. Are they good to you? Do they accept you for your flaws? See the best in you? The second is how they feel about themselves. Do they take pride in what they do? Do they strive to become more? Do they love themselves? And the third tier is…” She pauses and pushes her glasses up on her nose. Then she pins me to the chaise lounge with her eyes, showing me she’s one hundred percent serious. “Do you inspire each other?”

“You’re my kind of crazy, and I am crazy in love with you!”

“I don’t care what you came from or who you didn’t have to lean on. Lean on me. Love me. Because I fucking love you, Belle. Your free spirit is what draws me to you. Your soul matches mine.”

“I don’t just want to love you, Belle. I want to marry you.”

You either jump or fall. Jump with me, Belle. Marry me.”

“Fucking love these curves,”

I want to be his in every way because he accepts me for me and I accept him for him. Every beautiful, pervy, funny, deep, charismatic part of him. I know there’s a laundry list of things we have to discuss, but right now, I want to dream with this man.

“You’re crazy!” “Pot, meet kettle,” he retorts.

I think I ovulate on the spot.