{18+ COMPLETE} For the past three years, Bren Hadaway has been preparing to die.
When he was sixteen, he watched his dad murder his mom. And ever since, he's been counting down the days until it was his turn to be at the end of a gun. And Bren has...
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Only her.
Everything was her.
I kissed Madie hard. She instantly wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight. It was almost as if she was afraid I'd pull back away again, that I'd leave her. But there was no way in hell that I could stop kissing Madie now that I had started. I deepened the kiss, and Madie gasped against my mouth. There was no finesse to it, just a simple need for her lips on mine, her tongue against mine. Just her. All of her.
I didn't realize just how badly I needed her until this moment. Everything else was gone. And it was just us again.
She tasted like chocolate. Like chocolate and a hint of caramel and the salty sea. Because Madie would always taste like the sea to me. Ever since I first kissed her on the shore and we fell into the waters.
My hands smoothed around to her back, wanting to feel the curves that had been teasing me all night. I followed the curve of her spine with my fingertips. And then I slid my hands beneath her ass and scooped her into my lap.
Surprised, Madie broke from my mouth as I jerked her against me. But then she straddled my waist, curling around me.
That was better.
The hem of her dress—the fucking dress that gave me dick-hardening flashbacks—had been pushed up when I pulled her into my lap. Not that I minded seeing what was underneath. She was wearing tights, but my eyes lingered on that sinful stretch of skin where the material covering it turned from opaque to sheer. I palmed her legs just above the knee. And then I skated my hands up the soft netting, needing to feel her, needing her to feel me through it.
Glancing up, I saw that Madie was watching me. Tight little breaths released from between her swollen lips.
"Tell me to stop," I said, my voice like gravel as I slid my palms up, digging fingers into her tights. I didn't fucking deserve her. I didn't fucking deserve this. She should tell me to stop. She really should.
But Madie would never.
"You know that I won't, Bren."
I had. I had known.
My eyes didn't leave hers as my fingers dipped under her dress. They skimmed over the curve of her hips, up to her waist. The feeling of her through the lacy tights was killing me. It was tantalizing, teasing. I needed skin.
And then I found it—skin. And I wanted more. So I curled my fingers over the top of her tights and began slowly stripping her of them. Madie wordlessly lifted herself off my lap just slightly so I could roll the fabric over her ass.
My voice was thick in my throat as I said, "Lieback."
She did, falling into the sea of fleece blankets. Her strawberry hair spread around her like a halo. Madie peered up at me with blue, angelic eyes as I finished peeling her tights off. I did it one leg at a time, trailing my thumb down her inner thigh so I could feel that skin as it was bared.
