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“Fuck.”
* * *
Gunz
With you. I would…
Jesus Christ. Kit’s words turn over in my skull. Look at her. All that barefaced openness. All that goddamn sexiness. I can still taste her arousal on my tongue as if I made her come with my mouth and not a little leg help. This has been an insane fucking day. Watching her watch me. All those gaspy breaths and smiles. Those marks around her neck. A necklace of my doing. Deep purple. Gorgeous. Mine.
All fucking mine.
Depravity scratches the surface, testing my will, seeing if I’ll cave. I won’t. Not now. Not with her.
Again, I watch her as she watches me, hoping I’ll give her something. But I have nothing of real value to give. My mother saw to that. Not once in my life have I laid on a couch with a woman, watching movies, that I paid little attention to because she’s here... with me of all fuckin’ people. Wanting to be here ’cause I’m here. How’s that for a mindfuck?
She didn’t push to touch my cock.
They all push.
They all want and need. They beg. They submit.
But not her.
Not this one.
She’s content to look up at me with these big, expressive, honey-colored eyes and ask me to let her in. To share. How in the hell am I supposed to do that?
My brother told me long ago this would happen. It’d be unexpected and knock me flat on my ass. He said a woman would come along and want inside. To get to know the real me. Care about the real me. Not the outside strength. Not the façade. The gritty, ugly, broken bits. I laughed at him. Obnoxious laughter. Said he was a fucking fool because we weren’t born to fall in love. We weren’t worthy. Hell, I’m still not worthy.
This is new.
Still just as terrifying.
But fuck it all to fuckin’ hell if I don’t wanna give her something. Just a taste of real. A taste of me.
“Why do you think my name is Gunz?” I ask, more as a test to myself than her, to see how far I’m able to go. To see how much she can handle.
An adorable wrinkle forms between her brows as she looks deep in thought. I caress the side of her face, waiting for a reply, my stomach tight.
This is it.
Time to rip the bandage off. A lifelong bandage that only Bonez and I know the damage beneath. The scars. The hallow wreckage.
He’s gonna laugh later, in that cocky, dickhead brother way, when I tell him his punk-ass was right. Fuckin’ bastard.
“Honestly, I don’t know…” Kit shrugs a single shoulder up to her ear, suspends it there as she ponders the question, confusion etched in her features, then drops it when she’s formed an answer. “Because ofguns?”
Nope. That’s what they all assume.
“You want another guess?”
“Not really.” She nibbles that sexy bottom lip a beat. “If you’re not comfortable sharing, Erik, I’m not gonna pressure you for more. I just figured we’re here, we have nothin’ else to do today,andwe barely know each other.”
Damn. She used my name. It sounds perfect comin’ from her, light and sweet.Erik. I couldn’t tell the last time anyone called me that out loud.
“You want the good, the bad—” I begin.
“And the ugly,” she finishes.
