Page 22 of The Chemistry of Us

She bit down on her bottom lip like she wished she was causing physical harm to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Good for you.”

“I was just pissed.”

“That makes two of us,” she snapped.

After sucking in another sharp breath, I took one giant step toward her, then had her by the hair, tugging her aggressively against my chest.

Close to her lips, I rasped, “Is this what you want?”

Her breasts were pressed against my chest.

And my mind was running wild.

Especially after I just fist fucked my dick to images of her.

She didn’t hesitate to shove me away.

“Stop,” I ordered, grabbing her wrists.

“You stop it.”

“Is that what you really want?”

She swallowed hard.

“You,” I harshly stated. “Piss me off.”

Tru got up on her tiptoes, her dark hair soaked against her cheeks, and whispered against my neck, “Get lost.”

“Get damaged,” I snapped.

She taunted, “Damage me, then.”

I didn’t have to be told twice.

I shoved her arms above her head and slammed my mouth against hers in a way I hoped would be more punishing than rewarding. Instead, it just brought it all back—not just the memories, but the feeling of being owned by her.

It was terrifying.

Shewas terrifying.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and raked her nails down my back in an angry yet forceful way as I shoved her against the tile harder and more demanding. She dug her nails in deeper as our mouths fought for dominance.

The moment between us was over far too soon.

With a sincere expression, she breathed out, “I don’t want to be your sloppy seconds.”

“You’ll be my sloppy firsts then.” I kissed her again.

Except this time, she fought my kiss at every turn…

When I deepened it, she pulled back.

When I invaded, she retreated.

When I pressed forward with my body, she heaved her breasts against my chest.

---