Chapter Eight-Madden

Ansley's mouth tasted like sin, the kind that consumed you from the inside, demanding your attention whenever it neared. I felt wound tightly before my mouth met hers, and I slowly began to unravel. Everything about her—her taste, the soft feeling of her lips, the slight moans and the way she tugged on my shirt—it formed molten lava in my veins.

I'd been so wrapped up in her that if I hadn't hit the door out of frustration of wanting to rip her clothes off, I wouldn't have noticed that it was left opened.

Ansley's eyes opened wide, her mouth puffy from the pressure of kissing me. I tugged her behind me, grabbing the knife from my boot, I kicked the door opened, causing it to swing inward.

"Stay behind me," I whispered, feeling her wrap my T-shirt into her fist. I tip-toed into the door, the hair on the back of my neck stood up at the sight of the living room. The couch had been turned over, my duffle bag riffled through, my clothes scattered around the floor.

It didn't take lon