{18+ COMPLETE} For the past three years, Bren Hadaway has been preparing to die.
When he was sixteen, he watched his dad murder his mom. And ever since, he's been counting down the days until it was his turn to be at the end of a gun. And Bren has...
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Bren teased me about being tipsy, but it was clear from his hazy, sultry gaze he was right there with me. Drunk or sober, I loved it when he looked at me like that.
Glancing down, I began to undo the buttons on my—well, his—shirt.
He was shirtless; it only made sense that I was, too.
But Bren stopped me, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.
"Don't."
I gave him a curious glance.
"At least not yet. It's hot," he explained with a shrug.
My lips tilted up in a tiny smirk.
"I wasn't lying when I said you could rock it," he added. "Besides, now I can do this."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but Bren cut me off. He gripped the front of the shirt, using it to yank us together in a way that took my breath away. He covered my mouth with his, kissing me deeply. His tongue was coated with a raw sweetness, and I couldn't get enough of it.
Bren seemed to be thinking the same thing I was because he moaned, "God, I knew you'd taste good."
He used the brief break in our kiss to nibble on my bottom lip—as if he could literally eat me right up.
It was easy to tell just how tipsy Bren was by the way all of his weight was leaning against me; he was too lost in our kiss to remember to hold himself up.
So, of course, I thought it would be a good idea to take that moment to slip from his grasp and roll to the side.
Bren collapsed haphazardly onto the bed with an annoyed groan.
I laughed, and he shook his head with a reluctant smile, gazing up at me. His eyes told me that he was going to get me back for that.
Sounded good to me.
Standing, I took the opportunity to kick out of his sweatpants. Like the shirt, I really didn't plan on needing them. Luckily, Bren didn't stop me this time. He watched with open interest as I stripped instead.
Pantsless with only his dress shirt to cover me, I walked back over to him. He was angled sideways across the bed, needing to tilt his head awkwardly to keep his eyes on me. His hair was going everywhere as usual, his chest was bare, and his grey sweatpants were doing absolutely nothing to hide his erection.
"Fuck, you're hot," he breathed.
I raised my brows. "Likewise."
Bren smirked.
His eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head as he watched me approach the edge of the bed behind him. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to his mouth, experimenting with the way it felt to brush my lips over his upside-down ones. I licked at his bottom lip as he pulled mine between his teeth lightly.
