Page 51 of The Canary Cowards


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My brows knit, and I breathe through parted lips.

I worry for a second that I might have actually hurt him during our little squabble, but the look in his heated eyes says otherwise. The words had fallen from his tongue, carved with distress. The kind that can only be unearthed by the places we deny.

“I couldn't care less,” I reply, tipping my chin up towards him.

He flinches, then tightens his grip on my wrists.

“That's a lie,” he whispers.

I try to think of a comeback, but I can't. My mind is a mess and my oxygen is depleting as his weight lays upon me. You don't think while drowning. You just sink.

“Tell me that's a lie,” he begs, searching my eyes.

I don't respond. I don't even know how to. Everything is so wrong about this position we're in. And yet, I can't seem to find an ounce of strength to correct it. His softened tone and his direct stare unveil the raw man in need beneath the asshole he portrays so well.

“I need you to do something for me, Dylan.” He begs with his eyes, pleading with me.

His tone is shaky, and the confidence that was once there is replaced with a certain longing in his gaze. The seriousness, never more present.

My chest billows between us, my nipples erect through the simple cotton containing them. His focus rakes down my body in my restrained form beneath him, and a light groan leaves his throat. I lick my lips and he watches, his jaw hardening as if to restrain himself.

“Please. Just please tell me I can kiss you.” His hoarse tone emanates his pain as he peers from my lips and back.

With his hold still on my wrists, he leans forward, resting on his elbows around me. His hips settle between my thighs, his mouth inches from mine, as we study each other cautiously. I can feel his breath on my lips, both of us panting, and the need to taste him amplifies.

I’m lost in the moment's heaviness. The tension between us is so thick and overwhelmingly powerful. I can't fight because no part of my body wants me to. It reduces my mind to mush, and my hormones are running this ship. The roaring beat of my heart is drowning every part of my brain that says this is wrong. And the moment I feel his erection press into that space between my legs that craves him, I know I’ve lost before I’ve even begun.

I can’t make this easy for him, but I can’t make this so hard for myself anymore, either.

I swallow, surrendering to my body just this once, and give the lightest nod before he comes crashing down onto me.

21

Lake

Assoonasmylips crash onto hers, we don't waste any time getting friendly.

I capture her sweet lips between mine, kissing those soft sweet pillows as she kisses me back. The kiss is fire, scouring through me. It's warm, and it's wet, and fuck if it doesn't make me mad with a need for more. It's insane, this feeling.

Dylan is kissing me.

Dylan, my moody therapist.

Dylan, this unsuspecting woman that drives me crazier than anyone else ever has.

Holy fuck. We're doing this.

My eager tongue gently sweeps across her bottom lip, needing the access she's so adamantly denied. She opens her mouth to me, allowing it.

Our tongues touch and she moans.

She moans, and I brick up.

I have no self-control.

I’m reduced to a schoolboy when it comes to her. I mean, Jesus, seconds ago she said cock with these lips I'm kissing. I heard her say cock, and I got hard, like a teenage boy. And wet slit?! I haven't heard a woman utter the nasty shit she just spewed in a long time. Not unless you count porn.

I was, unfortunately, mesmerized by the brief little reading session. She did that shit on purpose, too, using my teasing tactics against me, and it worked like a charm.

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