“What do you want?” He was almost shaking me from the force of his own need. Savage. His eyes were filling with rage, but he was blanketing it. He was containing it. “Drugs? Alcohol? What do you need from me?” I stopped just as the invisible hand opened me enough and was reaching in, all over again. “I can’t feel what I’m feeling—” His mouth was on mine. Hot. Hungry. Angry.
