Page 30 of Seein’ Red

Reaching out, I slide my arm around her, hand landing on the small of her back. She tenses, breath hitching, eyes going wide as I pull her into me.

“You are. Which is why you’re baring your claws and lashing out at me like this. It’s what you do. What you’ve always done. Next step is name-calling.”

“Nash, you fucking jackass!” she cries, beating her balled-up hands against my chest.

"And we’re there…” I mutter, gripping her tighter.

“Fuck off. And fucking let me go!” She tries to push me away, her fingers wrapping themselves around my T-shirt.

“You don’t want that.”

“You don’t know what I want!”

“I do,” I answer calmly. Much more calmly than I actually feel. That inferno is still raging, and I’m about to show her just how much. “Because I know you. Which is how I know…what you need is this.”

Yanking her into me, I dispense with the pleasantries and capture her mouth in a hot, hard kiss. Making my message loud and clear.

She’s mine.

9

WILLA

Fuuuuuuuck…

I may hate him with the fire of Shakespeare’s thousand suns, but man, can Nash Keller kiss.

All my fury and annoyance, the flood of negative emotions that were flowing a second ago, are now taking a backseat. They’re still there, but suddenly pushed aside by something else.

Desire.

My insides light up like the sky on New Year’s Eve, each beat of my pulse a new firework exploding. And all he’s done is kiss me.

My knees wobble as Nash’s hand slides to my ass, his massive palm the perfect size to cup a cheek. As he gives it a squeeze, I moan into our kiss, unable to control myself. I give in, letting him control the pace, still desperate for more. He squeezes again, this time a little harder, and I come alive.

As if he can read my mind, he deepens the kiss, his other hand finding my backside, hoisting me up. Instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist, my core making contact with the bulge already forming in his pants, and that’s all it takes.

I’m ready to go.

I grind my hips against him, seeking the high that only he can give me. Nash Keller is a drug. One that I’ve been addicted to since I was a teenager, unable to give up, even though I know how bad it is for me. I’ve tried to convince myself there are worse vices out there than him—real drugs, for instance—because deep down I know this man will be my undoing.

In fact, we might already be there.

His touch feels too good for that to be a worry right now. In this moment, the only thing I care about is getting him naked.

I claw at his shirt, our mouths still fused together in forceful, messy kisses, the thin, soft fabric malleable in my hands. Each time I try to pull back from his claim on my lips so I can focus on taking his shirt off, Nash stops me. His tongue dances with mine, sending lightning straight to my core, my clit already throbbing with anticipation.

I need him naked. Now.

Digging my nails into the cotton, I yank at it, the threads giving way easily, like a hot knife through butter. The ripping sound cuts through the air, finally getting Nash’s attention.

Looking down in between us then up again, I watch as his eyes darken, brow furrowing. “This shirt was a gift, Princess.”

“From me,” I remind him pointedly. I glide my finger down his chest, in between his pecs, licking my lips.

A wicked smile takes over from his scowl, sending another shot of lightning through me. It’s the exact same smile he gave me when he opened the gift that Christmas a few years back—Kenzie, Sylvie, the twins, and I all gathered in the small living room of his and Noel’s house—before Dustin’s return and the rest of our friends coupling off. The dark gray shirt, complete with a cartoon cow and the words “Man-ure hot” had gotten a good laugh out of everyone. But only Nash had understood the secret message behind it.

One he properly thanked me for later.