Destroyed. Jackie Ashenden

and her hands came up, long, pale fingers pressing against my chest. Then, like my body was a stove she’d accidentally burned herself on, she jerked them away again. ‘T-Tiger...’ she muttered thickly, still avoiding my gaze. ‘I th-think you should...uh...move.’

      I don’t know what it was about hearing my name in her mouth. Plenty of women called me by it and yet I’d never once felt it go straight to my cock the way it did right now. Maybe it was her voice, all soft and husky and uncertain, and that goddamn stutter on the T. Like she was afraid to say it.

      The club girls didn’t say my name like that. They didn’t avoid my gaze, jerk their hands away from my bare skin and blush like a fucking rose. And when they did look at me, it wasn’t with fear or excitement or any shit like that. Sure, they wanted me, but they didn’t much care who got them off. One cock was as good as another as far as they were concerned.

      It had never bothered me before.

      It had never bothered me before that one cock was as good as another for them. As long as everyone came, I was fine with it. And as for civilians, well, I didn’t mess around with them, because I wasn’t up for anything more complicated than fucking.

      But Summer, she was lying there all pink and flushed, and avoiding my gaze. And it wasn’t because she didn’t want me. Because if she hadn’t, she’d be shoving me like she’d shoved Crash, and there was definitely no shoving going on.

      Yeah, I knew when a woman was into me and this little girl was into me. Not Crash. Not some other brother. Me.

      And I didn’t just like that.

      I fucking loved it.

      ‘Uh-huh,’ I murmured, staying right where I was, because I was an asshole. ‘And how exactly do you want me to move, baby girl?’