“I watched movies with ye, did good guy shite, yesterday. That ain’t nae habit I’ll be growing used to.” This is the truth—another chance to escape, Justice. Run. Because honestly, beautiful, yesterday wasn’t the only day I played a version of a nice guy. May not have been a full-blown gentleman, but it only gets worse.
She sees my eyes lingering on her lips. She closes her eyes and breathes in with less hope this time. “Brody, I’ll see you when I see you. Whenever our paths cross.”
My hand comes to rest at the braids at the nape of her neck, clamping onto them. I’m cradling her soft face, and her eyes are opening—dark brown. They’re the damn heel of fecking Achilles, so mesmerizing. Now, I’m not considering my words. I’m flapping my lips like a bampot. “Ye can plan to cross paths with me every day of?” Wit the feck, Brody?
“Every day of? What?” A smile tips the left side of her plush lips.
“Forget I said that, but don’t forget this.” My lips crash against hers, tongue invading her mouth. I imagine all my scheming paying off when my dick slides into her hot, soaking cunt with the same grit. My hand slips beneath her shirt, clutching at her soft skin. I grind myself against her, pushing her back against a wall.
My dick and I are old pals again. My blue baws are hungry for release.
The kiss is next-level intimate, brand new to a man like me. I don’t play baseball with women, nae first base, feck second base.
Easy.
All home runs, baby, nothing more.
Pressure builds in my baws, and my cock’s expecting to have his turn now. I grind against her, and she tugs at my arse.
“I need ya now, Justice.” I groan into her mouth. Forty-eight hours of torture. I grab her wrists, pull her hands over her head. I’m gonna flip her a hunner times. Arse and pussy are my aim. “I didn’t even choke my junk once. Nae, baby, my dick has been waiting to slaughter yer lovely pussy.”
I lick a trail over her neck, and my lips are on hers again.
I could do this—kiss her like I care.
Not all day, but a wee bit longer.
This fecking kissing thing is nicer than I guessed.
We’re drawing ragged breaths when Justice’s buxom body tenses beneath me. Och, nae, nae, nae, feck!