I shatter it into a million pieces.
11
GREG
When Sandy’s lips touch mine, the world stops. Her face is wet with tears for my friend, but her mouth is hot for me.
This is not where I expected this talk to go.
Tyler is mad to think he can share this girl with all of us. I thought she’d never accept it.
I thought wrong.
Instinct drives me to pull her closer. My hand slides into her pretty curls and grips harder than I intend. The feeling of a loss of control rushes through my veins, setting my heart off like a jackhammer, but as her knees hit the floor between my crouching legs, I have her in my power.
The taste of her mouth is as sweet as the sugary cereal she was eating, the tentative slide of her tongue against mine like a licked stripe against my balls. The muscles on my shoulders and back bunch like my body is ready for war, not affection. Every instinct running through me is scrambled.
This is wrong. This is Tyler’s girl, but I want her, and he wants to give her to me. Her hands pressed to my face are tender, telling me she wants to give me something too, and instead of drawing back, instead of telling her she needs to talk to Tyler and fix what needs fixing, I’m pulling her against me.
Fuck, she’s tiny. Tiny against my huge, hulking body.
Soft in all the places that I’m hard.
When I use my grip on her hair to angle her face, going deeper with my kiss, she whimpers. When I use my other hand to slide down her back, relishing the curve of her waist and the roundness of her ass, she shivers.
We are black and white, bad and good, wickedness and purity, mistakes and virtue.
There are a million reasons why this can’t happen, but I’m bullheaded enough to ignore every one of them.
It takes nothing to haul her up until I’m on my feet and her legs are wrapped around me. For a moment, we draw apart, and her eyes meet mine.
The deep thudding in my chest echoes in my ears as I really focus on this girl who’s been like a ghost in our lives. Wavy hair that’s glossy and soft tickles my arms, hazel eyes that could look a thousand different colors depending on the light blink with arousal and confusion. A smattering of freckles kiss her cheeks, flushed from crying and her reaction to this thing between us.
This confusing thing.
This thing that makes me want to burst out of my skin and be a new man.
There are tattoos on my body that I despise. Tattoos that reflect a different man from a different time. Tattoos that are on show for Sandy to see and judge. But she isn’t judging. She’s waiting.
Waiting for me to get a grip on myself.
“This is what Tyler wants,” I growl. “But is it what you want?”
She presses her hand to my face, running her thumb over the soft skin above my cheekbone and my eyes drift closed. “What about what you want?” she asks. “Does that just get forgotten?”
Forgotten.
How did this girl get so perceptive that she can see right to the heart of me when I’ve told her nothing at all? Has there ever been a time when anyone cared about what I wanted and then gave it to me? I can’t think of one. I’ve always had to take. Plunder. Tear what I want from the world. And here is Sandy, thinking about me.
Tyler’s right. She’s perfect.
“If you could see what I want from you right now, you’d run and never look back.”
She strokes my face again, but this time I don’t shutter myself to her. This time, I allow her feline eyes to search the deep blackness of my soul. “You think I’m a fragile flower,” she says. “You think because I look this way and talk this way that the hardest thing that I’ve ever dealt with in my life is breaking up with Tyler.”
“You’ve never been with a man like me before,” I tell her.
“How do you know?” Her hand drifts to my collarbone, playing with the neck of my shirt.
“Because a man like me would never have let you go.”
The long exhale of breath she makes sends blood pooling to my cock. If she was naked and I had my eyes on her pussy, I know she would have squeezed tight at my words. If I was buried inside her, I would have felt it like a vice around my dick.
“I’ve never been with anyone except Tyler,” she says, lowering her gaze. Is she embarrassed or ashamed about that? She shouldn’t be. She should be fucking proud that she’s kept the wolves from breaking down her door. Until me, that is. Now she’s got the biggest baddest wolf of all with his cock pressed against her cunt.