Page 149 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

How can my stepdad say this woman is dangerous when she goes out of her way to drive us hours away from home so that I can have my little slice of paradise again?

How can anyone say she’s ruthless, heartless, a murderer when she’s so thoughtful, sweet, beautiful, and loving?

How am I supposed to keep my distance when she's making it nearly impossible, especially when I'm drawn to her dangerous, ruthless, and unpredictable nature?

Yeah. I’m fucked.

“Rurik?”

Shit. I’m staring at her like some fucking creep, aren’t I?

I clear my throat and look away, staring at my juice box as if it’s the most delicious fucking cranberry juice I’ve ever drank. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I hesitate before adding, “How did you find this place, Briar?”

She smiles at me, and I want to take a picture. “Oscar.”

I frown, “I never told Oscar.”

“Let's just say we have a talent for tracking down what we need,” she says, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Holy shit, you are a fucking stalker,” I say with a disbelief laugh. “I can’t believe it. You guys are insane. I don’t know if I should be scared or worried.”

“You don’t have to keep complimenting me, angel.”

“Oh, fuck off, you psycho.”

“Ugh, keep talking dirty, angel. You know I love it.” She flashes a grin before planting a kiss on my cheek. “Come on, let’s clean up, and I’ll drop you off at home.”

I grab her wrist, “Wait. 15 more minutes?”

I'm not ready to leave our slice of paradise just yet.

Her face softens, and she nods, “Of course, angel. Whatever you want.”

I pull her into my arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she leans against my chest. She tells me I can have whatever I want... but deep down, I know that giving in to every desire would only lead to literal heartbreak.

*-*-*-*

Ever since Briar took me to the lake a couple of weeks ago, things between us have been a fuckfest marathon. I’m positive there is no surface in her apartment that I haven’t fucked her on.

That is until I found myself shoved against the stove with my cock in her mouth.

“Briar,” I grunt, grabbing her head and fisting her hair. “The stove.”

“It’s not on.” She mumbles, her mouth full.

“It was,” I say, “I… Fuck, I turned it off. The surface is still warm.”

“Then don’t burn yourself,” She kisses the tip of my dick. “Actually, ignore that. I want you to burn for me. I love how hard and hot your dick feels as I fuck you with my mouth.”

“Jesus,” I moan in exasperation. “You’re going to kill me.”

She freezes.

For a second, I thought I may have ruined the mood, but she continues sucking me off with a groan. She squeezes my dick with her hand, twisting it up and down while her lips remain on the tip, her tongue licking the precum leaking from the top.

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