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“I’d put a bullet in my own head before turning a gun on you.”
“I made some bad decisions that put everyone in jeopardy, and in the end, it came down to your lives or the Cassidys. I didn’t have a choice. I would do anything to protect you.”
“If you turn us in for crimes you believe we committed, we’ll kill you. If you harm a hair on Conor’s head, we’ll kill you. If you kill us, the evidence we hold against you will be delivered to people we trust. People on the right side of the law who would love to put you and Sheriff Fletcher behind bars for the rest of your miserable lives.”
A man cannot be good unless he possesses the capacity to be evil. Decency is a choice. It’s being tempted by hatred and following a different path no matter how difficult. It’s looking inward with a magnifying glass and acknowledging the flaws and weaknesses in one’s character.
“The happiness that comes before the hurt is the best feeling in the world.” He closes his eyes, his whisper riding on a shredded breath. “It’s worth it.”
During those years, I had a front row seat to the evolving relationship between him and Conor. I watched in awe and envy as their love forged into something legendary. Something so bright and powerful it eclipsed everything around them.
We don’t just love. We love hard, with every bone, sinew, and breath in our bodies.
“Here’s a free tip for your bullshit story. I love that girl more than life itself. I can’t even fathom playing a part in the brutality inflicted on her that night.”
She’s a lucky woman to be cared for so deeply by two protective, insanely attractive men.
“Touch me like that again, and I’ll cut off your fingers and shove them up your ass.”
“You have a killer body, but you need a better workout routine for that mouth. I have something that’ll help with that.”
“How fucking beautiful you are, all fiery and worked-up with your teeth bared and nipples begging to be bruised. Can’t remember the last time I was this hard.”
“Doesn’t matter what my dick thinks.” He crosses his arms, and the movement flexes his biceps. “I don’t fuck reporters.” “Oh well, good, because I don’t fuck assholes.”
A flowery, ruffled dress thing hangs by tiny straps off her narrow shoulders, and white flats cover her feet. She looks like she dolled herself up for a tea party with the queen. It’s kind of cute, in a nutty Alice In Wonderland way.
She might be as ferocious as a lioness, but she looks so damn soft and gentle.
I need to know what she uncovered about the men we killed. I need to know every detail about her meeting with my dad. I need to hear her breathy pleas when I flog her with a crop, taste her tears when she begs me for release, feel how tight her pussy is when she clamps down on my cock.
“My words tend to be more offensive than my erections
“We want different things, and we’re going into this on opposite sides. I’m willing to argue with you, make disrespectful claims, and offend you in the pursuit of truth.”
She bounces her fists on my back and bucks up and down like a wild bronco.
“How the fuck are you the sperm that won?” “I can explain it to you, but I can’t understand it for you.”
“It must be exhausting.” “What’s that?” “Fending off horny women all day and night. I bet you have to use that big stick of yours to beat them away.”
All the beauty in the universe can’t compete with the allure in her eyes. Vivid layers of complexity burn like fire, and when she lifts that gaze to mine, I ache to be incinerated by it.
know I’m a guest in your home, but this discussion is about as stimulating as a big bag of tiny dicks.”
“Work with me during the day. Relax with me at night. With time, we’ll get to know each other and trust each other enough to have this conversation.”
“So that’s it? Hard to get is your flavor of the week?” At my silence, she mumbles under her breath, “I should just fuck you and remove that from the equation.” “That’s my call to make. I will fuck you. You’ll get what you need. Then we’ll go our separate ways.”
<3
I want to learn her fantasies, break them in, and spank them into something she’ll only ever experience with me.
“I want more than your secrets. I want those, too, but I’m not going to take them. I want you to give them to me when you’re ready. I want to earn your trust.”
Finally. Fucking finally, I have her. Wild and molten, wet and volatile, her fight is beautiful, but her surrender is goddamn exquisite. I consume it with everything inside me, feeding on it and fueling a desire that has never felt this out of control.
She tastes like sweet innocence and wild beauty.
“I want children with you.” “What?” My heart stops. “You heard me.” “Children? Have you lost your mind?” I scramble out from beneath him. “I don’t mean right now.” He stands and tucks himself into his jeans. “I just… With you, I want marriage and kids and all of it. You’re it for me. Today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after.”
“You belong to me.” He prowls closer. “I’ll piss a circle around you if I have to. I’ll move mountains and rearrange my entire existence. I’m not giving you up.”
“I know how your mind works. You’re brilliant and genuine. You’re passionate about what you believe in, and you’re not afraid to fight. I know your expressions, your smiles, the octaves of your laughter, the loneliness behind your frown. You store your soul in your eyes. You fidget with your hair when you’re nervous, let the ice melt in your soda before you drink it, and you hate to be alone. You’ve never had a one-night-stand.”
My damn heart forgot that love sucks, that it scars the soul, tramples trust, and hollows out the body.
It’s cruelty in its most primitive form, love in its deepest, most passionate state. It’s animalistic mating, unbound and stripped bare, a connection that defies civility.
He shackled my heart with his, and I wish he would lose the key to that lock. The steady beat of his love against mine empowers me, strengthens me, makes me believe that as long as we’re together, it’s enough. We’re enough.
“You’re where you’re supposed to be, where you belong.” “I own nothing.” “You own me
“Take your space, your time, whatever you need. But I won’t let you take forever. That belongs to me. Your forever is mine.
“By storming in there and ruining my meeting, you basically told me you think I’m weak and incapable of surviving without your manly interference. You think so little of me you have to save me from a job interview, because my judgment’s so poor and my willpower’s so pathetic I don’t know how to walk away from a bad situation.”
<3
“You don’t love me, Jarret. If you did, you would let me struggle, let me work through my trials, and step in only to guide me toward independence instead of insecurity.”
“Living without you is a form of death. A death I refuse to accept.”
“I see you. I see your misery, heartbreak, longing. It’s lived in your eyes since you left, trapped in turmoil. But I see love, too. It’s still there, Maybe, and I swear to God, if you would just accept it, if you would give me a chance, I’ll set you free. Let me take part in your pain, walk with you, sit with you, watch over you, something, anything… Just…let me join you in the hurt.”
The feelings I harbor for her will never end. Not when my body ceases to function. Not when my soul releases for whatever comes next. Even in death, I won’t let her go. She’s my serenity and my fire, my first and last breath. Lying beside her is my favorite place, and for the rest of my life and into the next, she’s all mine.
<3
A hard fuck, a vanilla tumble, a red welt, a tender kiss—I love her in all the colors and levels of intensity, and she lets me. I’m a lucky son of a bitch.
