Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(45)

I peered back up at her.

“Pretty please,” she added in a seductive tone, biting her bottom lip.

I didn’t give it a second thought. I pushed off the railing, taking the blunt to my mouth and sucking in long and hard. Striding over to her in four, determined steps. Her gaze didn’t waver from mine as I leaned in close to her pink, pouty mouth, catching her completely off guard. Caging her in with my arms. Her eyes widened but she didn’t push me away. I parted my lips, slightly letting some smoke escape and that’s when she realized what I was doing. She mirrored my direction, and I slowly, softly blew out the smoke from my lungs into her awaiting mouth.

I saw something familiar in her eyes, something I had always seen in mine, reflecting back at me.

Pain.

A raw and dark painful ache, exactly like the pain I had been carrying around my whole life. I felt it in my skin, in my heart, and in my soul that this girl was different. She was like a diamond, smooth but with sharp edges. Our lips touched ever so lightly the entire time.

I knew right then and there…

This girl.

This. Fucking. Girl.

Was going to be the end of me.





<>Briggs<>


Have you ever met someone that you felt like you already knew with every fiber of your being? Knowing it was physically impossible, knowing it was the first time you had ever laid eyes on him, knowing that he was a complete and utter stranger.

But, feeling it in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul that this person was a part of you. Someone you possibly met in a previous life, someone who may have meant something to you.

I locked eyes with the guy across the room and a sense of deja vu hit me, I felt like I had seen him before, his presence was comforting and intriguing, although in my head I knew he was a complete stranger. I felt a pull towards him, like he was a piece of a puzzle that was missing from my life.

I knew something was brewing.

Something big.

Important.

Life-changing.

The way he looked at me consumed me in ways I never thought possible. There was a predatory yet captivating glare in his eyes. As if I was the answer to every question he ever had. His eyes were blue, maybe green, but mostly blue. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, they were so bright, so blinding, so f*cking true.

The scar on his eyebrow caught my attention first. There was a patch of hair gone, sliced right down the middle, and left in its place was the memory of what made him almost lose his eye. If it had been a few centimeters lower, it would have been gone like the hair.

His skin was slightly tan from the sun, but I could see a few freckles peeking through on the bridge of his nose and on the sides of his cheeks. He had facial hair all around the lower side of his face, I guess you could call it a beard.

He had dark brown, spiky hair, and with the lighting above us I could see hints of red scattered around. My eyes moved on their own accord from his face down to his body. It was then that I realized how big he was. His white V-neck shirt pressed tightly against his chest, while the sleeves barely held in his strong, defined, muscular arms. I had the sudden urge to feel them wrapped around me. He was tall, way taller than my five-foot-four frame. He had to be over six feet of solid muscle.

He was devastatingly handsome.

In a bad boy I want to f*ck every part of you kind of way.

But that wasn’t what captured my attention. It was his scars. There were several down his arms, some on his neck. I only imagined he had to have more. They had to tell a story and I instantly wanted to see and touch every single one of them, as if they would tell me what happened to him.

He hadn’t moved from his place in front of me, still caging me with arms. I began to think his feet were glued to the floor beneath him. Smoke billowed up all around us, only adding to his tempting allure.

His lips were smooth when they brushed mine. I felt the sudden urge to feel them against me again, but deeper that time.

I bit my lip at the thought, and his eyes glazed over.

“What’s your name?” he asked, seeming caught off guard by his own question. Like he had never asked for a girl’s name before.

For first time since my parents died I wanted to say…

Daisy.

I opened my mouth to reply but quickly asked, “What’s yours?” instead.

He smiled, big and wide. Displaying perfect white teeth.

“Austin.”

I noticed there was a slight southern drawl to his voice and had to resist the urge to ask him where he was from.

He raised his scarred eyebrow at me, waiting for my response.

“Briggs.”

He cocked his head to the side not sure if I was telling him the truth. I wasn’t used to telling people my name, it felt so foreign leaving my lips. I never had a reason to voice my name, people around me already knew. My little black cards were the reason why I was there. I went where my uncle ordered me to go.

“Is that your last name?”

I shook my head no.

“Your parents named you Briggs?” he questioned with a hint of teasing in his tone.

“Your parents named you Austin?” I fired back with the same tone.

He chuckled. “Feisty.”

Standing upright, moving away from me and taking his warmth with him. I immediately missed it.

He hit the blunt again and then handed it over to me. I tried to hide my disappointment, I wanted to feel his lips on mine again. I shook away all the new and unfamiliar feelings, stepping away from him to walk over to the railing.