Treacherous

Teagan

I wanted to go home.

Moving to America wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the family next door, but because of my so-called guardian—and I used that term lightly—we were the latest family to take up residency in Thirteenth Street, and I was the sole target of the bitch over the fence.

But, for me, life was a lot to get a lot worse.

Noah Messina, Ellie's step-brother, had decided to join her torment-the-new-girl-until-she-cracks mission.

There had been a fight in their driveway last weekend—between Noah and some other tattooed douchebag—that had progressed into our yard, resulting in the windshield of my car being smashed when Noah pummeled his opponent through it.

Thinking back now I had to admit that I sort of overreacted when I stalked outside in nothing but a Coldplay t-shirt and a black thong and tossed an entire can of white gloss paint over the hood of Noah's black Lexus in retaliation. I guess it had felt damn good to fight back instead of letting them walk all over me . . .

Destroying Noah's car with paint was like waving a red rag in front of a bull. He lost it. Right there in my driveway, with his t-shirt ripped from his body and blood dripping from his eyebrow, Noah Messina had thrown the biggest man-tantrum I'd ever seen before declaring war on me . . .

Noah

I was going to lose my shit over the girl-next-door.

God, three months of having her live next door to me and I still felt like slamming my head into the garden wall—now worse than ever since she had challenged me.

The defiance in her eyes as she stared at me down before bending over the hood of my baby and emptying the can of paint was something that struck a chord inside of me. I'd never been so angry or turned on in my life.

Pure rage had flooded my veins, driven on even further when Teagan taunted me with her potty mouth and yeah, I'd kind of lost it with her. Problem was I had an even uglier temper, and Friday night Teagan Connolly ignited it like no one had before. When she slapped me and pressed her tight little body against mine, taunting me with that sharp tongue of hers, I'd never been so close to putting my hands on a woman in my life.

Except instead of hurting her, I wanted to toss her sexy little ass on the hood of my car and take her right there, not caring who saw us. The urge to be inside her was like nothing I'd ever felt in my life . . .

Contains mature themes.

© 2018 Tantor Media (Hljóðbók): 9781977382795

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Hljóðbók: 10 juli 2018