Shame on Him

“Look, I’m not really in the mood for you to—”

My words are cut off as he grabs my face with his hands and crushes his lips to mine. Dallas Osborne is a force of nature. He’s hard around the edges, crass, and full of attitude. His kiss matches his personality: It’s rough and all consuming.

It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.

His tongue immediately pushes past my lips and he backs me up against the hood of my car. I moan into his mouth and grab fistfuls of his hair in my hands, holding him close and letting him plunge his tongue deeper. He keeps one hand on my face and slides the other down the side of my body, cupping my ass in his hand and pulling me against him.

I’ve been kissed by plenty of men in my life. They were all the same or variations of the same—polite, soft kisses that left me wanting more. Dallas doesn’t kiss me like I’m a piece of crystal. He kisses me like he wants to break me and doesn’t care if he leaves a few scars behind. My lips already feel bruised from the attack of his mouth and it’s the most delicious pain I’ve ever experienced.

His arm tightens around my waist and my toes leave the ground as he holds me against his body, his tongue pushing against my own. One of my legs slides up around his hip and I anchor him to me, pulling him in tighter so I can feel him against me. I slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I can feel every inch of his hard body and it just makes me want more. I’ve never felt fire like this or passion this explosive. It doesn’t even matter that we’re standing in my parents’ driveway, leaning against the hood of my car. I want his naked body against mine and to feel him moving inside me.

He suddenly breaks the kiss and pulls his mouth away from mine. My heart is pounding. At least I’m not alone. With our chests pressed tightly together, I can feel his own heart thudding against mine.

When I can finally breathe again, I speak. “What the hell was that?”

Dallas tightens his hold on me. “Do you really have a tattoo?”

I’m sorry, what? He storms out here and kisses me like that and the first question he asks is about my tattoo?

“Are you kidding me?” I fire back.

“Kind of. Not really. But to answer your question, I don’t know what the hell that was, but I wish it would have happened sooner,” he admits.

“You can’t stand me. You put me down every chance you get. And you expect me to believe you wished you kissed me sooner?”

I feel like I just entered the Twilight Zone.

He just shrugs. “What can I say? You drive me crazy and for some strange reason, it’s the biggest fucking turn-on. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since you first called me a pompous ass.”

Now this is a shocking development. I guess what they say about little boys picking on the girls they like on the playground when they’re younger is also true for adults.

“And for the record, watching you stand up to those assholes was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. That, and hearing you say the word ‘fuck,’” he adds with a smile.

I look away from him in embarrassment. “I think I took that a little too far. They’re probably never going to speak to me again.”

He shrugs. “Fuck it. They’re not worth it. If they can’t see how amazing you are, they don’t deserve to have you in their life.”

All of this insight coming from him is a little shocking. I mean, I thought he felt the exact same way about me as they did.

I push away from him and slide away from my car. I need some distance. This is a little too much right now. I just spilled my guts to my parents and now Dallas is telling me he thinks I’m amazing. I don’t know what to think.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t exactly believe what you’re saying right now. You’ve taken every opportunity to tell me I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. You put me down left and right and I’m always second-guessing myself, wondering if I really am making a mistake.”

He grabs my arms and pulls me back to him, bending down to look into my eyes. “Let’s get one thing straight here. I admit I’m an asshole most of the time. But I have never underestimated you. I’ve been waiting for months to see that spitfire come out of you that I knew was hiding in there somewhere.”

“Right. So your telling me outside of Stephanie Covington’s house last week that I’m in over my head and I should go back to the courtroom was what? Tough love?”

The words tumble from my mouth and I immediately want to take them back. Do I really want him to know I’ve been dwelling on what he said to me every single day since then?

He sighs and pulls me against him. The warmth of his body feels so good that I instantly slide my arms around his waist even though I’m confused by what is happening.

“Why do you have to question everything? You told your parents where to stick it and now we don’t hate each other. Much. We should be celebrating this momentous occasion, preferably by getting naked,” Dallas informs me with a grin as his arms tighten around me.

“As much as I’m enjoying standing out here not hating you, I think we should probably leave. My parents will lose their minds if they see us out here like this. I think I’ve done enough damage for one night.”

Dallas sighs. “You’re probably right. Tearing your clothes off and fucking you on the hood of your car would probably push them over the edge.”

And just like that, I’m hot all over again. I never thought hearing someone speak like this to me would be a turn-on. Out of anyone else’s mouth, those words would have me smacking them across the face. But hearing them from Dallas, I want nothing more than to take him up on his suggestion. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">