Reckless Kiss

She closes the distance between us, dropping to her knees. I uncross my legs allowing her to scoot between them.

“I panicked.” Her hands slide up my thighs, and she looks up at me. “I didn’t want you to get me fired. I really want this job.”

“I wouldn’t let her fire you.”

“Maybe… but she won’t like us together.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do… I’ve done so much work. It’s my art, Deacon.” Her voice is soft, eyes round. “Please.”

Her thumbs make small circles against my inner thighs, and it’s melting my annoyance.

I place my forearms on my knees, threading my fingers in her hair. “You won her over with your talent. That portrait is amazing.”

Her cute little nose wrinkles. “She criticizes me nonstop.”

“She bragged about you all through dinner… The brilliant young artist she discovered.”

That makes her laugh. “Thanks.”

“If I’d known it was you, I could’ve agreed… You’re so talented.”

Lifting her hands, she places them over mine. “Let me finish before we blow it all up. I want this for my portfolio, for the Arthaus application.”

I don’t like it, but I can’t make her sad. “Okay.”

Rising onto her knees, she kisses me. Our lips part, tongues sliding together, and her fingers fumble to my shoulders. My hands slide lower, pulling her waist closer to me, threading my fingers under her shirt to her soft skin.

We move faster, her fingers rise to my neck. She exhales a soft noise, and heat fills my stomach.

“I want to taste you.” It’s a rough whisper, and she stands slowly, looking down as a curl slips over her shoulder.

My hands are on her waist, fumbling with the button on her jeans. Her fingers are in my hair, and I kiss the skin below her navel. “Deacon…” she sighs in a tone I love.

“What the fuck?” A sharp voice rips through our moment.

Angel is jerked back, and Beto stands in front of me, seething. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Beto, you’re hurting me!” Angel’s face contorts with pain, and I’m on my feet.

“Let her go.”

“What did I tell you?” He reaches behind him, pulling out a black handgun. “The next time I saw you with her?”

“Beto!” Angel screams, jerking her arm against his grip. “No!”

Her brother doesn’t move. His eyes flash, and he’s holding the weapon in my stomach.

“Put it down before you hurt someone.” My voice is low. I don’t want to taunt him. I don’t know how far he’ll go.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” He takes a step closer, still gripping Angel by the arm.

She’s no longer struggling. Her eyes are fixed on the gun.

“Beto, please.” Her voice trembles. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Get out.” He shoves her back hard, and I lunge forward, putting my hand over the cool metal and turning it away from me.