Author: Alyson Santos
Release Date: October 3, 2017
It’s not easy being the bad guy.
Yeah, that’s a lie. It’s pretty damn simple. You act and you own it. You sell your soul to protect those you love and screw the rest.
It’s the restraint that’s hard. The demons that poke at your trigger, burn in your gut—just waiting for a second of freedom to unleash the fire in your soul.
Call me a villain. Call me whatever helps you sleep at night and feel good about the black and white of love. But watch your back because I don’t care. Until I do.
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I wake to pounding blood, excruciating pleasure. A wet dream? No, hot pressure controls my body. Dissolves me into my mattress. Oh god. My groan is cut off with a tongue, determined lips. Fingers push down my hips and clench.
“What are you doing?” I gasp. I’m her friend. I need to stop this. I… ah.
“Just this one time, I promise,” she breathes. I feel her nakedness. She didn’t invade my sleep to negotiate.
“Hannah, come on. You’re upset, you—”
“Now’s your chance to say no. Tell me to leave.”
She’s doing everything in her power to make sure I don’t.
My body is trained for this. My brain, not so much. When her mouth attacks me again, reason loses the rest of its weak protests. Some distant siren screams through the background. Regret. Guilt. Pain. But not yet. Tomorrow’s poison. Right now it’s skin and heat and pulsating need as she slides over me.
“Here. Found this. Your place is stocked.” I barely hear the tear of packaging. “Damn, Wes. Are you always ready?”
I know, worst time for irony, but there’s a definite smirk before she consumes me again. Hard this time. Deeper, her own moans make me crazy.
“I want you to own me like the others,” she gasps, and that siren screams, radiates through every cell corrupted in ecstasy.
“You’re not the others, Han. You’re…” There are no dirty words. There are no words at all for this. Just. Her. Hannah Drake. The only woman in the world I should not be fucking.
Night Shifts Black
I’m a writer, musician, and cat lover. I also have an alternative music obsession. Seriously, it’s a real problem.
I write what needs to come out, whether it’s pain, tears, or laughter. I write people and relationships, about the beauty and horror of what we do to ourselves and each other. I write Love. Vengeance. Compassion. Cruelty. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness. Darkness, and the incredible way humans destroy and heal each other.
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