Hot and Heavy (Chubby Girl Chronicles #2)

“Don’t,” he barked, moving me to the side and stepping away from the door where he leaned.

But I wasn’t finished trying. I still had thirty minutes before I left for the airport. I still had time to change things with Tyson before I left and went months without seeing his brooding, beautiful face.

I followed him, my fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his T-shirt.

“Take it back, Tyson. Admit that I’m nothing like a sister to you. Admit that you think about me the way I think about you. That you touch yourself while you think about me the same way I touch myself and think about you.”

I felt the blush on my cheeks, but I kept pressing and pulling on his shirt, afraid that once he slipped from my room, he’d never come near me again. I’d gone too far. I’d touched him and said things I could never take back.

“I’m in love with you, Tyson. I have been since the very first moment I saw you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers going to his silky black strands once more.

“Did you hear me?” I asked desperately. “I said I…”

His large hand went over my mouth briefly before he tugged it away and rubbed his palms together. He peered down at me with an expression I’d never seen pass over his face before. He looked desperate and afraid, like he was genuinely scared of me.

I’d never seen Tyson terrified of anything.

Never.

“I never thought I’d say these things to you, but here I am.” I held my arms up. I moved closer, molding myself to his large frame in a brave move I never thought I’d use. He pulled away, pressing himself into the wall as if I had poison slathered all over my skin.

His breath pushed from his body hard and loud as his midnight eyes moved over my face with insecurity and a host of other emotions that had no authority on such a dark and demanding creature.

“What if this were our last time together, Tyson? What if I got on that plane and never came back to you? Wouldn’t you want me to know how you really feel? Wouldn’t you want me—”

His mouth crashed against mine with desperation. Whether it was desperation for a kiss he’d longed for as long as I had or to shut me up, I wasn’t sure. But what I did know was my body melted into him the way I always knew it would, and I lost myself in his kiss.





TWO


Tyson Payne





HEAVEN AND HELL.

I’d crossed the holy pinnacle and entered a place full of softness, light, and beauty, but while her hands on my skin felt like a miracle, I also felt like my flesh was being ripped from my body. Irrational fear struck me deep.

Nicole would never hurt me—at least not physically. Mentally, she’d fucked me up over the last seven years, but she didn’t know she was doing it.

Still, her mouth was heaven, and the devil didn’t belong in Heaven—I didn’t belong in Paradise. I knew that, but my brain ceased all functions the minute my lips touched hers. I was beyond all rational thinking.

My lips brushed against hers.

Once.

Twice.

Before I moved in for more, losing myself in her so completely, I forgot about her hands on me. I forgot she was touching my scars inside and out—soothing them and breaking them open again all at the same time. Her lips made me forget all the promises I’d made to myself over the years—made me forget about the pact I’d made with myself.

Never touch Nicole Palmer.

Each strike of her hot breath against my cheek was like an electric shock to my body, and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Her frame felt even smaller than it looked in my grasp when I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me. She was soft against my hardness, limp in my arms as she let go with me.

I’d never felt anything like it. Usually, I pinned a girl’s arms above her head to keep her from touching me. Typically, I took control and remained in power, but when my tongue met hers, everything inside me exploded.

Her soft, cautious touch changed, and she clawed at me like a wildcat, tugging at my shirt and pulling me to her as if she couldn’t get close enough.

She couldn’t.

She’d never be close enough.

And while her sudden movements and touches were freaking me out, I wanted more.

I wanted to feel her all around me—beneath me—inside me, lighting all the dark places where I hid my feelings for her—all the dark places where the memories and monsters lived.

Her fingers no longer scared me … they fueled me, forcing my black memories to the forefront and allowing her to slowly destroy each one. She took away the pain and cleared my mind in the strangest, most shocking way.

She tasted like sugar, like melted candy on my tongue as I savored her. My craving for her, the one I’d tamed over the years, grew, as I pulled her to me and thrust my hips. Seeking relief, I rubbed against her, her body feeling better than anything I’d ever felt … even with our clothes between us.

I wanted her.

Hell, I’d always wanted her.

Over the years, in my mind, every girl I’d climbed inside had been Nicole.

My Nicole.

The only girl to ever tame me, and she was clueless about it.

She was leaving me, and I wasn’t taking it well. I hadn’t been okay with the situation since the day she got her acceptance letter to Juilliard. She was a beautiful dancer, one with grace and limbs that went for days, but knowing she was going to New York alone left a sick feeling in my gut.

I couldn’t be there for her. I couldn’t protect her from the sick and demented fucks in the world. I’d go wild thinking about the terrible things that could happen to her while she was hundreds of miles away from me. And while I knew how badly she wanted Juilliard, I also knew how badly I wanted her. How badly the desire to keep her safe burned through me on a daily basis.

She reached between us, palming me through my jeans. Stopping my thoughts completely, her touch caused me to release an agonizing growl into her mouth. I’d had women … too many, actually, but none of them had ever touched me this way. Their fingers had never graced my dick, no matter how badly I wanted it. My mind would never allow it.

It was different with Nicole.

It had always been different with her.

My fingers covered hers, pressing her palm harder against me as I thrust myself into her hand, seeking what I knew I could never have with her. Every second I touched her, I darkened her with my shadowed sin.

Clarity broke through my lust and slammed into me. Tension crawled down my back, tightening my spine and making my entire body stiffen.

It was wrong.

Everything we were doing was wrong.

Her mother and father had taken me in, made me a part of their perfect family, and given me a life I would’ve never gotten without them. If it weren’t for them, I would’ve grown up on the streets, begging for food with only the clothes on my back, and this was how I was repaying them.

By touching their only daughter.

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