Raid - By Kristen Ashley Page 0,85
had threesomes!” I cried.
“I told you, baby, we do not wanna go over past shit.”
I threw out both hands. “Now I understand why,” I shared. Then I asked, “Are you going to want to do that with me?”
“Fuck no,” he clipped.
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I pushed.
He leaned toward me and bit out, “Fuck yes.”
“How?” I snapped. “She’s right, you like it wild. When is vanilla going to wear off, Raid?”
Suddenly he smiled huge, white and amused, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he was fighting laughter.
“This isn’t funny!” I yelled because it dang well wasn’t!
“Honey, you’re wrong. You thinkin’ you’re even close to vanilla is goddamned hilarious.”
“Unh-hunh,” I mumbled disbelievingly.
His body started visibly shaking.
Yes.
With laughter.
“This isn’t funny!” I shrieked.
Raid crossed his arms on his chest, tried to fight back his smile without hiding he was fighting it back and began.
“Hanna, baby, I told you we do not wanna go over past shit and I was right. We really don’t. But you’ve worked yourself up so you give me no choice.”
I didn’t like this start, but had no chance to share that because Raid kept going.
“Meg spends her days at a shit job she hates and spends most of the rest of her time working out and starving herself, so she’s usually in a bitchy mood because she pretty much hates her life, but definitely needs a sandwich. Contradicting that shit, she doesn’t have a problem pouring alcohol down her throat and smoking a shitload of grass, which gives her the munchies she refuses to give into, thus the vicious cycle with her bein’ a bitch and makin’ the mellowing qualities of pot lost on her.”
“Raid—” I snapped to get him to shut up because I did not want to know any of this, but he talked over me.
“What I’m saying is she’s a party girl, up for anything, and she was up for anything with me. When she was able to tamp down the bitch, we had a good time. Maybe she’ll get a guy who’s into fake tits, lots of hair and women who care more about having a toned body than they do about having a decent state of mind so he’ll put up with the bitch to have her brand of fun, but that guy isn’t me.”
“Raid!” I yelled this time, but he kept right on going.
“You wanna hear this or not, honest to Christ, if you didn’t ignite for me our first time, and you were vanilla—you are fabulous, baby—but you would not be here right now. With you I got the whole package. If I had it with her, she’d be here, not you.”
“This isn’t making me feel better,” I informed him.
His amusement died and he shot back, “Then how’s this? You ignite for me, but more, you make me ignite for you. And no woman, not in my whole goddamned life, has made me ignite the way you do.”
Wow.
I knew he did that for me, but I had no idea I did it for him.
I shut my mouth.
“You get my teeth, Hanna, ‘cause makin’ my own personal Peggy Sue go wild for me drives me fuckin’ crazy. You do it for me like no woman before you. I lose control because you make me and you get my teeth, and what makes that shit better is you love havin’ my mark on you.”
I fought back the desire to touch my skin, knowing, since it happened before, I’d have to choose my top for that day carefully. Because his mark was always mild, but it was there and he was right.
I loved having Raid’s mark on me.
He was far from done and he also saved the best for last.
“She doesn’t do it for me, Hanna, because I didn’t fall in love with her when I saw her across a street, hair shining in the sun, laughing. You do it for me because you were that girl across the street, your hair shining in the sun, laughing, making me fall in love with you, and I didn’t even goddamned fucking know you.”
Did he just say that?
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
He just said that.
“Oh my God,” I repeated.
“Yeah, honey,” he again agreed.
“I—” I started, but again he spoke over me.
“So thank fuck, my mouth on yours, you explode and let go and latch onto my dick while I’m drivin’ your car and dig your nails in my back when you come for me, ‘cause, baby, that means you give it all