Page 3 of Second Shot

His gaze is intense and his breath feathers on my lips, smelling of scotch. I’m not the only one who’s beendrinking.

I can see the desire burning in his gaze. He wants to kiss me, and I’m dying for a taste of his lips. I’ve fought this –him– for so damnlong.

“I hate you,” I whisper, trying to hold on to my last ounce ofstrength.

“I know,” he whispers back, just as his head lowers, his hand cradling the back of my head as his lips crash againstmine.

I kiss himback.

Rough.

Hard.

Unapologetic.

“Brynne?” He says my name harshly, and I hear the question in hisvoice.

What are wedoing?

I don’t want to think. I just want to feel. To take. To use. To forget for one fucking minute how messed up this world reallyis.

“Don’t say anything.” Frantically, I tug at his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of his skin againstmine.

He gives a small nod as if understanding, and reaches behind his head, pulling his shirt off and letting it fall to thefloor.

Swiftly, his hands work my jeans down my hips, his thumbs locking in my panties as he forces them down my thighs, while I struggle with hisbelt.

Our lips lash, and our tongues dance in a frenzy of desperate need. Years of pent-up longing boil over the surface, making everything seemmorethan it reallyis.

My fingers roam across his skin, across every line, every hard muscle, and I whimper, lost inhim.

“Brynne.” His touch slows, and I can hear the hint of concern in hisvoice.

I don’t want his concern. I want his body. Nothingelse.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, slipping my fingers into the waistline of his briefs and pushing them down until his heavy shaft springsfree.

With a satisfied grunt, his hands are on my ass, and he lifts me up, so that my legs are wrapped around his waist and his cock rests hard against my entrance. He moves so that my back is against the wall, and he leans into me, holding me up with the weight of his body as his hands skate across myskin.

“Say it.” His voice rumbles across the sensitive skin of my neck, where his lips rest. “Say you want this,Brynne.”

“I want this,” I moan, as he pulls back, so that the thick head of his cock nudges at myentrance.

No. I needthis.

A cry of pleasure mixed with pain leaves me as he thrusts forward, filling me with one hardstroke.

I gasp, feeling pleasure within the deepest part ofme.

I’m ready for him. Warm and wet. He pulls back, then slams into meagain.

My muscles tighten around him, clenching with an urgency that buildsquickly.

There’s no tenderness in his movements. He takes me hard, fast,rough.

“Look at me, Brynne,” he growls out, but Irefuse.

Eyes clenched shut, fingers digging into his skin, I take what I need, and he uses me the sameway.

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