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Tanner Harris is a knobhead spunk bubble who runs around like a dog with two dicks. And my hatred toward him is not because he’s rejected me.
am frozen. Completely gobsmacked as I take in the sight before me. Tanner Harris is sitting on my black leather seat, naked as the day he was born. And as much as I hate his every fibre, I can’t help but admire the impressive human in front of me. It’s loads of stunningly inked, smooth skin covering mounds and mounds of tight, roped muscle.
His puckered lips purse with frustration and a dimple forms on his right cheek. “Belle Ryan, will you pretty, pretty please, with sugar and cherries on your tits, help me out right now and fucking drive?”
“Stop looking at my tits and you’ll be a hell of a lot safer.” “Says the woman who was eyeing my tube steak like she hadn’t eaten in days.” I bark out an incredulous laugh.
“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’s a witch. A temptress. She’s got me completely under her chocolatey, crazy chick spell and I’m entranced.
“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!”
“There’s always sunshine above the chaos, ladies. Celebrate it.”
“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.”
“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.”
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.
However, what I would do for Belle tops even them. And that is something I never realised was a possibility in my life.
