I want her and she won't even tell me her name.
I want to own the feral pussycat. Make her beg me for more of that hot, lonely night we shared when she found me and my MC, The Ciphers, kicking the ever living hell out of men who deserved it. I want to take her like I did in that motel room when I held her gun hostage and tried to make her confess who she was. What she wanted. What she was going to do next. When I could see the whole time what she needed was me.
I want to show her what being with a Cocker Brother feels like.
My life is better than any show or sports match. We save people. Sometimes we kill for them.
But Sunshine - as I've nicknamed her - isn't letting me in.
I want to break her down, but I have never in all the women I've had - and I've enjoyed way more than my fair share - met a more closed off, wild animal than her.
Sunshine not only deserves to be broken down, she f*cking craves it.
I'm in too deep not to crash that wall into rubble and have her begging me never to leave. I always get what I want. So why am I second-guessing that now?