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Fucking each other into oblivion.
The look in his eyes is all consuming. Addictive. I can’t get enough. Can’t fucking look away as I’m about to climax from his thrusts alone.
“Yes, come for me. I wanna see you fall apart,” he groans, holding my legs tight.
My lips part, and a moan escapes. The orgasm overcomes me, cascading out of my body like a damn waterfall. Brandon captures me in his grasp, holding me close to kiss me. Right then, he releases himself inside me. His cock swells, veins pulsing, and his warmth spreads everywhere. He grunts inside my mouth as his seed fills me up to the brim.
When we’re satiated, he pulls out slowly, and my pussy feels wetter than ever before.
I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked this good.
Especially not by the one person who’s supposed to be my number one goddamn enemy.
Guess I’m really screwed.
* * *
Brandon
I kiss her a final time, our lips lingering on each other as if they don’t wanna let go. Neither do I, but I know she’ll start the fight again soon. She can’t help it. It’s in her blood, coursing through her veins … the need for justice. And I’m the one who keeps her from that goal.
If only she’d run away with me when I asked her to after the bonfire. If she’d come with me, none of this would’ve happened. The farmhouse wouldn’t have burned down, and my papa would still be alive … and so would her brothers.
I swallow and exhale. “Dixie …”
“Shh …” She puts a finger on my lips. “Don’t talk. It’ll ruin everything.”
I smile. She’s right. It does. It always has.
But I can’t help but want to know the answers to the questions burning in my mind. The what-ifs.
She obviously likes me. A little too much if you ask her.
She hates it—I can tell from the look in her eyes—but she can’t stop herself from wanting me anymore either.
It’s how it’s supposed to be, how it always should’ve been.
We were both denying what was right in front of us the entire time.
Even when we were younger, she kept on trying to pull away from me. Like a moth to a flame, she keeps burning her wings when she’s close to me. Maybe that’s why she broke up with me. I hold her back from achieving what she really wants. Complete freedom from everyone around her.
But then why did she cling to this farm? Or to her dad, even knowing he hates everything alive?
He doesn’t deserve her presence. She should’ve been with me from the start.
“Why didn’t you come with me?” I blurt out.
I can’t help myself. I have to know.
Her face darkens, her lips drawing together as she deciphers my words. “You mean after the bonfire? I couldn’t …”
“Yeah, you said that,” I say, zipping up again. “But you were just scared, weren’t you?”
“No. You still don’t understand, do you?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “You were unstoppable. People were looking for you. Of course, you wanted to leave.” She unwraps her arms from around my neck. “But I needed to stay with my dad. My brothers … my family. They needed me.” She pulls up her panties and dresses herself again.
“They didn’t deserve you, and you know it,” I hiss.
She lowers her head, looking at me from underneath her eye lashes. “Family before anything else, remember?” She blinks a couple of times. “I knew there was no stopping you, and I didn’t want you to feel torn. Like you had to stay because of me. So … I broke up with you.”
Wow.
Is she saying she did it for me?
I thought she wanted me gone because her dad hated me.
All this time, I believed something I told myself.
“I didn’t want to, but I had to,” she says. “There was no other way it could end.”
“Yes, it could’ve,” I say. “You could’ve come with me.” When she tries to interrupt me, I quickly add, “I would’ve been your family.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. The silence is overwhelming, but her eyes speak volumes. She’s almost on the verge of tears.
I know I have no right to say these things.
I hurt her more than any other man on this planet.
But I want her to know that I felt more for her than any other man did too. That I cared about her more than her dad ever did. Maybe I still do. It’s hard to tear the hatred from my heart after carrying it for so long. I still don’t know what the truth is … Except that I’m falling for her again.
Slowly. But inevitably.
I grab a strand of her hair and tuck it behind her ears. “I’m sorry, Dixie Burrell. That I made you suffer like that. For being a piece of garbage who doesn’t deserve to live.”
