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Chapter 40
Brody
Ifecked up. If it’s any consolation, I ain’t never made an attempt before. Never cared for a lass as much as I do Justice Flowers.
When she isn’t touching me, I tell myself a hunner times, Brody, idiot fecking tell her. Tell her Hank McFarland placed me in a bind. Everyone in Boston knows of Bawbag Hank. Tell her Wilmer was gonna drag her out of her fecking parents’ house had it not been for the agreement I made. Tell her we had no allies in Boston to save her—FeckingBawbag Hank. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Now, I’m stuck between ecstasy and the guilt of it all because her soft body is at the tips of my fingers.
I’m selfish.
I’m a bloody bastard who’ll always put himself first.
I’m a goner. I’ll lie, cheat, kill. Shite, I’ll stand up and say poetry before I knuckle down and tell her I’m officially engaged.
Ultimately, Justice will think it’s her who pays the price. She’ll think me being baws deep in her pussy is a means to use her.
Nae.
If anyone asks, it’s Justice Flowers who’s used me. Bewitching cunt and all. I need a happy medium. I’d like to keep her in my life, but she’s an all-or-nothing lass. I prefer her at arm’s length or at least have her dangling at the tip of my dick.
Grow tired of her, I’ve said a hunner times too. Only thing I’m growing tired of is my fecking slogan.
I grip Justice’s shoulders and pound into her. Maybe if I feck the lass hard enough, she’ll finally realize I’m not the good lad she needs in her life, and she’ll run.
Soon as the thought passes through my mind, I’m angry. I want my cake, and I’m gonna eat every crumb of it. With each pound, I bash her swollen clit. I hammer Justice, annihilating her G-Spot. She’s nearly passed out from orgasming. I place one of her big, chocolate-covered strawberry-sized nipples into my mouth, lavishing it with another bite. This is my apology. Pain.
“Ohhh,” Justice moans as my hot semen erupts inside of her. She crumples into me, the water giving one last slosh over the edge as I cradle her close. I’m so fecking sorry, hen.
* * *
We traded the spa treatment room after our two-hour timeframe for a hotel room. There was nae way in hell I could get Justice away from me long enough to concentrate and drive to my place.Her captivating cunt got us into this mess.
There’s a spread of food on a room service cart across from the bed. She can eat all she wants, but I’ll not let Justice touch a piece of her clothing.
While we eat, Justice tells me how her da worked as a school bus driver for years, and her mom was a clerk with the county. “I was a good girl. Church choir. Only spoke my mind—aka, cussed—during poetry night, promise.” She crosses her heart, but my eyes drop to her nipples. “Hello? Earth to Brody.”
“Ye were saying?”
“I was a good girl till you appeared.”
“Now, ye are fecking in hotels, spas, trucks . . .” I pause, contemplating it. “That ain’t enough places, lass. Far as I’m concerned, Justice, ye’re still an angel. C’mere, we have a whole lot of—”
“Stop.” She shakes her head with a laugh. Justice points a half-eaten spare rib at me, sword style. “Stay on your side of the bed. I’m tired.”
“Ya know.” I advance on her slowly. She laughs as I grab the rib and toss it across the spacious light gray room, handing over a linen napkin. “I’ve been threatened with more effective weapons and gotten away.”
“Oh yeah?” Justice’s eyebrow cocks as I stack her legs over my hips.
“How did ye go so long without me, aye?” My hard cock traces her bruised pussy lips.
“How did I?” She shoves playfully at my chest. “Here I thought you—”
“That’s wit I said, lass,” I retort, drinking in her naked body. “How’d ye survive?”
“The more appropriate question, Brody,” she smacks my lips with her soft mouth, “how the feck—”
“Och, get outta here.”
