• Second Skin: Mad Dog Excerpt


    Surging forward, I grab the back of his neck. My gaze is still on his lips, heart thumping like a drum, and I’m abstractly conscious that my dick has gone hard as a rock as I close the distance and cover his mouth with mine. He jerks back and sucks in a breath but I hold him tight, tilting my head and easing the pressure until our lips grapple in a proper kiss.

    He’s frozen for a second until I touch my tongue to his lower lip and ease my body tighter to his, refusing to slacken my hold on his head. Then he releases a desperate moan and opens, kissing me back like he’s starving for my mouth.

    A jolt of pure, unexpected lust jacks through me when his tongue thrusts in and fights with mine. The kiss is strange but familiar all at once, his lips a soft contrast to the scrape of his stubble against my shaved cheeks. He doesn’t kiss like Celeste—there’s nothing sweet or tentative or submissive about it. He kisses back with hungry abandon, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair. He pulls hard, yanking my head back and holding. We stare at each other, breath coming in heavy pants, apparently at a stalemate of sorts.

    “What the fuck are you doing?”

    I lick my lips, my tongue lingering over a tender spot at the corner where his rough stubble rubbed me raw. Do I do this to Celeste when I haven’t shaved? His fingers tighten painfully in my hair and he shakes me a little. I force myself to look into his eyes for the first time. His hungry look is spiked with both hope and fear. All I want is to fall back into that maelstrom and see where it leads, but I came here for a reason.

    “Breaking the ice.”

    “Breaking the … fucking hell, dude, you’ve burned it to the goddamn ground. I need you to explain this shit because I’m having a hard time figuring out what the hell is going on here.”

    My blood is too hot for my brain to find words. If I thought kissing him would help clarify things, I was dead wrong. I try to pull away from his hold, eyeing his mouth, but he has a death grip on my hair and is strong enough to resist my pull on the back of his neck. But when I shift, our groins graze and a shock of awareness hits me that he’s just as hard as I am, so I tilt closer, pressing my hips into his.

    His grip slackens and he shudders, looking down between us, incredulous for a split second before he shoves me hard enough to make me stumble back. He slips away and I spin, a wash of cold shock dampening the confusion of lust that had control of me a moment ago.

    Comment Section

    • Hot, hot, hot!!! I can’t wait to read the rest of the book.
      Maybe next month . . . I’m spent out this month.

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