“You want?” he asked, running his tongue across my shoulder where he had just left another bruise. “Little Miss Writer losing her nerve,” he taunted, sucking hard against my skin again.
I groaned, trying to lift my legs to wrap around his, but the weight of the ice and the bar kept me from doing much of anything besides jutting out my hips. “And you’re so filled with self-control?” I grunted, my skin an open bundle of nerves. “IfI were touching you right now, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself either.”
He laughed, his hot breath coating my skin. He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes. “You can’t test me. I’ve been through things you can’t even comprehend in that imaginative brain of yours.”
I glared at him, but the way my body craved his was more than clear for both of us. “I bet you I’ve written worse.”
“I’ve read your books,” he hummed, his lips so close to mine, I couldtastehim.
My heart was racing faster than it ever had before. “There are things hidden in my place I’m too terrified to publish,” I panted, leaning in.
“Why?” he asked.
I could taste his air. “Because I don’t want them knowing what I think about when I can’t sleep.”
His hands wrapped around my hips, and he slammed me back against the wall with a warning snarl, his eyes sparking. “What do you think about?”
He was suddenly desperate. He hated the fact that there was still stuff out there he hadn’t read. That there was something out there that he didn’t know about me. He hated it and he needed to know it like I needed him inside of me.
I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. All I knew, all that existed in this life, was him. “The sound a bullet makes shattering through a skull,” I whined.
Everett paused and leaned back enough to meet my eyes, his breathing all but stopped. “What?”
I chewed on my bottom lip and nodded, so desperate for his touch, I thought I might just die without it. “I picked the genre for a reason. Blame it on mommy issues, never being loved, always being unwanted and left alone, take your pick. I dream about what it would feel like to put a gun to someone’s head, thebarrel pressing into their temple, and me pulling that trigger.”
His eyes widened, his expression so serious, I thought I would melt. “You scrambled back when I hit your precious boyfriend with my gun,” he snapped. “You were afraid.”
“I came all over your .45,” I reminded him.
“You wereafraid,” he half shouted.
“I didn’t want him on me anymore,” I confessed breathlessly. “I wanted…I wanted…”
He pressed his hands into the wall on either side of me, stepping up, his body pressed against mine, the rough fabric of his pants teasing my sensitive skin. “What? What did you want?”
I swallowed, finding his eyes, seeing the absolute burning lust in them as I carefully moved my hips forward just to feel more of it. “I wanted to be the one to pull the trigger. And I saw you gut him, I wanted to be the one holding that knife. I wanted to feel it slide through his skin. I wanted you to teach me how to break his jaw clean off, to guide my hands.”
His forehead fell against mine, a moan escaping his lips. “Fuck,” he panted. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist through the wall and shoved himself away from me as if he suddenly couldn’t wait to get away from me.
My eyes widened and I fought against the restraints. “Wait,” I said, watching him walk away. “Wait. Come back. Everett, come—”
He spun around and ran at me.
My breath caught, my body jerking, my eyes widening.
He slammed his lips against mine ferociously, one hand threading into my hair, the other grabbing onto my hip so hard, I knew bruises would remain when this was done.
My heart exploded, a cyclone of emotions erupting within me as his lips worked against mine passionately and without remorse.
I groaned, despite the pain from my cheeks, our tonguesclashing together, his teeth biting down on my lip, his hands tightening their grip painfully so.FuckI wanted to touch him. Everything in me wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel him everywhere all at once.
He kicked the ice packs off my feet and his hand left my hip for only a moment before something sharp sliced through my skin.
I hissed, my head pounding from lack of oxygen. I could feel warmth pouring down my leg as his lips pressed into mine, but all I could think about was that my legs were free.
I lifted them, my torso screaming, and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him against me, his hands exploring my body. Digging, bruising, scratching across my skin.
I was going to suffocate if he kissed me any longer, but I didn’t care. I grinded my hips against him, feeling his slick torso sliding against them, his muscles working as he moved his body closer.
