Make My Move (Hannaford Prep, #5)

by J. Bree

Maybe it is a Mounty love story for the ages. I’m absolutely fine with it. Ecstatic, and I refuse to admit that I’m mostly cool with it because Ash will tear them apart before they even manage to get anywhere and so that makes it safe to be cool with it. Safe. Fuck.

I shove the rest of the slice into my mouth and start messing around with my papers so I don’t say something fucking stupid like ‘hey, Mounty, why do you stare at me like you want to know what my cum tastes like if you don’t actually want to spread those fucking perfect legs for me?’

I’ll never fucking admit how badly I want to pull them down and bury my face in her pussy, my dick in her ass, and my tongue down her throat. I want to cover her body with my own, mark her up, fucking ruin her until there’s no questioning that she’s mine.

I kiss her like she's the only fucking drug I'll ever need pumping through my veins, like I don't fucking care that she's going to be my downfall and that doing this is the end of everything I love and covet in my life. I kiss her like it doesn't matter that I'm betraying two of the most important and vital people in my life. I kiss her like I love her. She kisses me back like maybe she feels every last bit of that too.

He’s my cousin, one of the four people I trust more than anyone or anything in this world, someone I would kill and die for… and I want to fucking bleed him out for being the one she’s going to pick. It’s my own fault. But I don’t care. I’m fucking haunted by the memories of her lips on mine, of how easily she fit into my arms and the way her body molded into mine like we were made for each other. I’m obsessed.