Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

She wanted to protest, but then he tugged her panties to her knees and was inside her with a firm hard stroke, and somewhere amid the searing pleasure she wondered if he was right, that she had been doing it wrong, because it had never felt so right as right now.

Brynn let her hands roam wherever they wanted, nails raking his flat nipples before clutching greedily at his firm hard butt, pulling him tighter, harder against her.

Will began to move faster, his hand moving between their bodies and finding her sweet spot as they both watched down where their bodies were joined. His fingers ceased their playing long enough to grab Brynn’s right hand and guide it down until she was touching herself.

With a groan, Brynn began to touch herself in the small circular motions she liked, as his greedy eyes took it all in.

It was dirty and elemental and so fucking good, that Brynn barely had a chance to register that she was going over the edge again until lights exploded in front of her eyes. She hadn’t yet caught her breath when he grabbed both of her hands, this time pinning them above her head as he rode her harder, his eyes burning into hers as he let out a sharp yell, thrusting into her one last time before he let his own shudders take over.

Neither of them moved for God knew how long, until Brynn finally wiggled her fingers, which were starting to fall asleep.

“I’ve gotta pee,” she whispered.

Will grunted and rolled over just enough for her to scoot out from under him, as she half walked, half waddled to the bathroom wearing only her tiny skirt.

She didn’t bother to look in the mirror, knowing she wouldn’t like what she saw, but as she was righting her skirt after peeing, she felt an unfamiliar bandage.

The tattoo.

Her fingers shook in nervous anticipation. Allowing another person—especially Will—to select a tattoo was one of the riskier things she’d ever done. And so wildly out of character, she didn’t feel even remotely like herself.

And she kind of loved it.

Brynn shimmied her skirt down to her ankles and very carefully removed the bandage from her upper hip. She was surprised that it didn’t hurt, especially after the grinding gymnastics she and Will had just done on her couch.

She braced for the worst as she stood on her toes so she could see the tattoo in the mirror. She’d been expecting something funny, or clever, or downright embarrassing, but she frowned when she realized it wasn’t a picture at all. It was a saying.

There it was in tiny black letters.

One step closer…

Her mind went blank, and she waited for understanding to registe

r. She didn’t hate it. It felt…intriguing.

But why?

She was obviously missing something. One step closer to what?

It was unlike Will to be cryptic.

And that bothered her more than anything.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hollywood can never compare

to a good book.

—Brynn Dalton’s Rules for an

Exemplary Life, #61

I’m telling you right now, up front, I don’t like gore.”

Will grimaced as he set a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “And I’m telling you up front, if you call my classic horror collection ‘gore’ one more time, you’ll never get laid again. At least not by me.”

Brynn gave him a smug look. “What makes you think I need you?”