Brandon: I fucked up big time. She never wants to see me again. I may have a cock that belongs in a museum, but I’m the biggest dick in the world. My psycho fiancée, Katrina Moore, has got me by the balls. In just a few weeks, we’re getting married live on TV. With my career on the line, I have no choice. I’m facing the most difficult decision I’ll ever have to make. I’m damned if I do; damned if I don’t.
Zoey: How could he do that to me? He used and abused me, made me his doormat. All the things he said and did to me were just an act. Stupid me for falling in love with him. He stole my heart, my body, and my soul. But there’s one thing he’s not going to take away from me—my dignity. There’s a reason I don’t own a TV. I can’t bear to watch him say his forever vows to the girl he chose over me. Oh, Brandon Taylor…my dreammaker, heartbreaker. You’ll always be unforgettable.
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Still pinning me to the wall, Brandon cinches my right arm by the wrist and slips my hand between us, pressing it hard against his heart. I feel it pound beneath my palm. Perhaps, I should tell him to feel my heart. The shattered chambers. The shards.
“Let me go, you asshole!” I beg instead.
His mouth responds with a crashing, fiery kiss that blazes through me. Oh my God. I want him. No, I don’t. Yes, I do! This cruel game with a burning tightrope has no safety net. It threatens to destroy me. His rigid length singes my flesh right through his robe and my clothes. A ring of fire circles my core, and the white-hot heat radiates from my head to my toes. I succumb to the urgency of his mouth on mine with a moan.
He bites down on my lower lip, parting it, and then plunges his warm tongue inside my mouth, sweeping across the vessel, deepening the kiss with my submission. His other hand slips beneath the waistband of my uniform and makes its way to my wetness, caressing my slick cleft and aching clit. Flames lick my skin. I wriggle beneath his weight and moan louder. Oh God! What the fuck am I doing? Why am I letting him do these things to me? Unable to resist, I squeeze my eyes shut until I’m seeing stars.
Finally, he pulls his scorching lips away and releases my right hand. “Oh baby, I want you so fucking badly,” he breathes into my mouth. “More than anything.”
The words on my tongue waver between “Fuck you” and “Fuck me.” Taking a deep tormented breath, I do something I’ve never done before. I slap him hard across his face, leaving my handprint on his cheek and an echo in my ear. He rubs his stubble-lined jaw while I rub my stinging palm.
Tears scald the back of my eyes. “That’s all you’re getting from me. Whatever sick, cruel game you’re playing, Brandon, needs to end. I let you take everything. My heart. My soul. My body. My mind. But the one thing you’re not going to take is the last ounce of my dignity.”
“I’m sorry, Zoey. I couldn’t help myself.”
Neither could I.