What do you think?
Rate this book
384 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 10, 2015
I’d fallen in love with Melanie Tucker.
Not some little-boy, bullsh*t needy “love” like I’d felt for Emmy Hayes –this was NOTHING like that. This was DEEP, almost PAINFUL in its unholy intensity. It was like she’d sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I’d die if I ever tried to pull them out.
I was truly, deeply, and utterly f*cked, because I f*cking LOVED this girl…and she wasn’t for me.
~ PAINTER
I’m coming home soon. You should run away while you still can, Mel. I’ll make you dirty, so dirty you’ll never be clean again. I’ll make you pay me back the hard way. You think you’re all grown up, but you’re not. There’s so much I could teach you…DO TO YOU. Jesus, if you only knew, you’d NEVER write to me again.
You should move to Alaska.
Change your name.
Good luck, though, because I’ll find you and take you and–
~ PAINTER
Never stopped thinking about her, though. Not once. She’d become my anchor.
“I’d do it again, you know. All of it. I’d do it all over again. Us…It was worth it.”
She wanted to play games? Perfect, because I loved to play, and she knew damned well I liked to play rough.
This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she'd sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I'd die if I ever tried to pull them out.
I was truly, deeply, and Utterly fucked, because I fucking LOVED this girl...and she wasn't for me.
What I want is to fuck you," he said, his voice a hard, intense whisper. "I want to fuck your pussy, I want to fuck your face, and I've given some serious thought to fucking your ass, too. I want to lock you up and play with you...Sometimes I think about owning you, and what I'd do if you tried to get away. Christ, you have no idea."
This wasn't sex.
It was a fight for dominance, a fight I knew I couldn't win but I was dammed if I wouldn't try.
"'What I want is to fuck you,' he said, his voice a harsh, intense whisper. 'I want to fuck your pussy, I want to fuck your face, and I’ve given some serious thought to fucking your ass, too. I want to lock you up and play with you . . . Sometimes I think about owning you, and what I’d do if you tried to get away. Christ, you have no idea.'
His hand slipped off mine, coming up to catch the back of my head, forcing me to meet his gaze.
'Here’s the ugly truth, though,' he whispered. 'I’ll want all of that—all of you—for about a week. Then I’ll get busy or bored or whatever, and I’ll stop calling you. That’s how I am, Mel. I’m the guy who doesn’t call and I don’t even regret it, because I truly don’t give a shit who I hurt. Except for some fucked-up reason, I care about you. If some guy treated you the way I dream about every night, I’d kill him. I’m not into suicide, so that means we can’t go there. Got it?'"
~Melanie & Painter
“She was mine. She’s always been mine. I’d be damned if I’d share her with another man.” Painter
“His gaze met mine, burning through me, and I swear-the world started spinning.” Mel
“Never stopped thinking about her, though. Not once. She’d become my anchor.” Painter
"I deserve someone who puts me first. So does our child."
“She was different. Special. Just touching her felt better than F anyone else, and I didn’t want to settle. Felt like the real thing.”
“That’s the thing about having brothers Mel – they got you covered when you can cover yourself.”
I couldn’t afford to get used to having him around, or depend on him. It’s destroy me if – no, when – the next crisis hit.
He stilled. Eyes crawling over Mel as I realized she lost the bra when she’d fallen.
“Nice artwork,” he said, grinning broadly. “But I think you missed a couple of spots”
“I need you, Mel. I need you way too much as a friend to risk it. I know I’ve done a truly shitty job trying to communicate with you about this, but if you had any idea how important you are to me…Christ, you’re one of the few things that kept me sane inside. Thinking about you, getting your letters. We gotta find a way, babe. We can’t do this.”
“You ready to go home?” I asked.
“I’ve been ready to go home all night. I still hate you.”
“You need to find new insults. That’s getting old.”
“Fuck off.”
Grinning, I climbed onto my bike. She climbed up behind me, tucking in tight and wrapping her arms around my waist, tits pressed against my back. For the first time in forever things in my world felt right, twisted as that sounds.
She was mine. She’d always be mine.
“Are you ever going to forgive me?” he asked softly, catching my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Sometimes it feels like you hate me out of habit … Why does it always have to be a fight, Mel?”
By the time we reached town, I was still utterly resolved to keep my hands off her…but Taz was at her place, and I didn’t trust that asshole for shit. That’s why I took her back to my apartment instead…and you can shut right the fuck up about that.
I already know I’m a douche.