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“No. Never. I’ve got four older brothers; they pretty much see to that.”

“I don’t see them now,” he says, looking around the room.

“They’re here, but must not think you are a threat.”

“How wrong they’d be, Troi.”

This is escalating quickly. It’s hot in here, or is it just him, doing this to me? I stand quickly, rocking on my high heels. He’s up in a flash and holding on to me. By some miracle, I don’t face plant. It’s him, I realize without a shadow of a doubt. He’s making me feel this way. I'm dizzy and giddy. The sensation is foreign. I always thought I’d be the crazy spinster aunt or a nun. I know I’m young, but when I say no man has ever turned my head, I mean it—no boys from school, no celebrities on TV or in the movies. No one.

No one but Trigger. I can’t help wondering how he got that nickname.

I thought there was something wrong with me. Like my lady parts were broken or something, but they are in good working order now. My grandmother, Fawn, would say that this is fate, and I’d have to agree with her. What are the odds that this man would come into my life tonight? He is close to me now. One of his big hands splayed across my belly, the other on my back. His face is low, near my ear, and I can hear how harsh his breathing is, feel it on my skin. His breathing matches my own.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I ask, bolder than I ever have been before.

“Where’d you have in mind, doll?”

“My place is about a five-minute walk from here,” I say. When I turned eighteen two months ago, my parents gave me a house they had built for me on the property. It’s the furthest away from all the others, and I like it that way.

“Lead the way,” he says, taking his hands off of me. Immediately, I feel the loss of his warmth, and I hate it.

We sneak out the open French doors on the patio and walk across the lawn, down a cobbled path. Halfway there, I stop and take my shoes off. My feet are killing me, and the cobblestone makes it hard to walk.

Suddenly, he lifts me into his arms. I sigh with contentment.

“Where to?”

“Just at the end of this path,” I tell him. In a few strides, he has us at my front door. Inside, he sets me down. With the amount of security we have here, I usually leave it unlocked, but tonight, I lock it. I drop my shoes in the unceremonious pile of other shoes and turn back to him. Again, I am in his arms with just a short step, only this time his lips are on mine. I forget my name, how to breathe, everything. There is nothing in the world but this fucking kiss.

Who knew that one kiss from him could light me up like the fourth of July?

Chapter Three

Trigger

Her little moans as I taste her lips drive me crazy. My dick is hard as a rock and straining against my zipper. The bite of pain is keeping me from coming. My hands tangle in her hair. It's softer than I expected, but I can control the angle of the kiss this way. I deepen it, and she mewls loudly.

"Bed. Where's your bed?" I grunt harshly after wrenching myself away from her. She smirks at me.

“I’ve got just one question,” she says, raking in lungfuls of air.

“What’s that?”

“How do you take your eggs? You know, for breakfast?”

“Sunnyside up,” I reply, smirking at her. What a question to ask at a time like this. She’s crazy, and I’ll know she’ll be the Bonnie to my Clyde, I can already tell.

"Follow me," she says as she brushes past me. I watch as she reaches down and pulls her dress up her thighs and over her head. The only thing on her body is a tiny pair of black panties I want to rip off with my teeth. I don't get the chance as she's pulled them down her body. She paused just long enough to step out of them. I strip as I follow her.

When I enter the room, I stop, leaning against the door jam, just to take in the sight before my eyes. How did I get to be such a lucky man? Her eyes travel down my body and widen when they reach my dick. So long and thick, it's standing proud, ready—Ready for her.

She is spread out of the bed; her thighs open wide for me. The little thatch of hair that rests on top of her pussy is heart-shaped. I growl, not liking the fact that she did that for another man.

"What did that little fuck wit say to you that made you punch him?" I demand, suddenly needing to know.


Tags: M.K. Moore Erotic