Fleeting Moments

I know something is wrong the second I walk inside the house.

It’s a feeling more than anything. I can’t see anything disturbed, yet I know something is different. I glance around, my eyes darting back and forth across furniture, into the kitchen—nothing. I turn slowly and glance at the base of the stairs and there he is, standing, his arms crossed, glaring at me. It takes me by surprise and I leap backwards, one hand flying up to my mouth to smother my scream.

“Heath?” I finally rasp.

He steps down and farther into the light. He’s pissed. Like, majorly.

He knows.

I swallow.

“What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You?” The words come out like a whip, and I take another step backwards.

“She was alone, scared . . . I was just trying to help.”

“I fucking told you to stay out of it,” he roars so loudly I flinch.

He’s scary when he’s angry. Really scary.

However, I can be just as fierce. “Yeah? Well I got sick of listening to you, considering you never stick around long enough to make your point valid,” I scream back.

His jaw tics. “Do you want to fucking get hurt?”

“Maybe,” I spit.

“Jesus, Lucy! What the hell is wrong with you?” he yells, so loudly, his big body is twitching with every word. “Screaming like that in the middle of a mall!”

“Fuck you.”

He blinks. “Pardon?”

“I said,” I scream, storming over and poking his chest, “fuck. You.”

“Stop,” he warns.

“Or what?” I challenge. “You’ll run away again? Go right the hell ahead, Heath. I don’t care. That girl needs help, and nothing you can say is going to stop me from making sure she gets it. I’m invested now. So get the hell over it.”

His big body moves fast, hauling mine up and slamming me against the closest wall. I gasp as he presses into me, effectively pinning me. “Stubborn, pain in the ass, fuckin’ beautiful woman.”

Then his lips crash down over mine.

I moan, so damned tired of pretending. I want him. I’m not going to wait any longer. I kiss him back, and when his tongue slides into my mouth, I welcome it with a whimper. The kiss is passionate, and angry, and a little desperate—the way all good kisses should be. I claw at his shirt, unable to stop myself for a second longer. I jerk it up and he pulls back just long enough to let me pull it over his head.

His body is so hard. His skin so hot.

I press my lips to his shoulder, trailing my tongue along his collarbone and up his neck. He groans and takes hold of my shirt, pulling it off as fast as I removed his. His big hand then finds my breast, covering it entirely. I moan and arch into him. With his free hand he unhooks my bra, letting it fall to the ground, then he lowers his head and sucks my nipple into his mouth while shuffling me out of my jeans.

“Oh God,” I whimper.

He bites me.

Pain shoots through my body, but I find myself arching into him even more, grinding my pelvis against his hand as he removes my jeans. My panties go quickly after them, and he growls in satisfaction as his hand finds the wetness pooling between my legs.

“As sweet as I fucking imagined.”

I tremble in his arms, reaching for his jeans and unbuttoning the top button. They fall down as soon as it’s released, and I find him commando beneath them. My mouth waters, and I peek down. His cock is beautiful; it’s also extremely terrifying to look at. I haven’t been with many men—two to be exact—and none of them were equipped like this. He’s massive, not overly long, but thick. I swallow.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah,” he growls, taking my leg and hooking it around his hip. “Oh boy.”

My eyes meet his and he positions his cock between us, giving me the lustiest, hottest look I’ve ever been given right before he glides into me. He does it in one, smooth motion—not too fast, not too slow, but straight in. I gasp, and the one leg holding me up trembles as pain and pleasure mix and shoot through my body. He grabs my ass and lifts me, freeing my poor leg from trying to hold on.

Then he fucks me.

He doesn’t do it slow—he does it hard and he does it fast.

My fingers tangle into his hair and I jerk his mouth to mine, kissing and biting as he hammers my body against the wall. We’re both groaning, both moaning, both cursing. I bite his bottom lip and he growls, pulling me off the wall just an inch and slamming me back against it.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” he warns, thrusting in and out, harder and harder.

“Or what?” I gasp, letting my head fall back against the wall.

He leans down, nuzzling my neck, then he bites me. It’s hard, painful, and sharp. I scream and dig my nails into his shoulder, making him hiss.

“Fuck you,” I whimper. “Asshole.”

“I am fucking you, baby.”

No man has ever talked dirty to me. Gerard certainly didn’t have it in him.

It turns me on.

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