Magic or Madness (The Wreck Me Duet #1)

OZZY

My emotions have been a rollercoaster today, and I never have days like this.

From waking up blissfully happy with Fallon's body tucked into mine, to the crippling fear that stole all control when I envisioned her on jobs with us, leading up to the absolute gut-punch that hit when she described the past with her step-father, I’ve been through it all today.

Now, she sits beside me on the couch, eating pizza and listening as the guys trade stories from our pasts. She fits right in here with us, laughing at everyone’s expense and trading insults when that smart-mouth of hers outwits them all.

“Fallon, has Ozzy told you the story of when he broke jaws in a bar fight?” Oliver asks, and the whole crew laughs.

Not one of my best moments, but makes for a great story.

“Jaws, like multiple? Let me hear it.” Her eyes widen and she smiles up at me, squeezing my hand.

“Some asshole and his friends were harassing the smoking hot bartender all night, so Doc started hyping us up, saying we should show them how to treat a woman properly,” Oliver recalls, with all eyes on Fallon.

“Journey slapped the beer right out of one guy’s hand, and the macho man started yelling, his friends all gathering in a circle around him. Naturally, we all form a barrier behind Journey, and once one punch lands, we all start brawling,” Oliver pauses, ushering Max to finish the rest.

Everyone’s attention is fully immersed in this story as if they haven’t heard it a million times before, but I love watching all their reactions.

“One of the dudes was massive, probably pushing three hundred pounds, and Ozzy walks right up to him, taps him on the shoulder, and punches him right in the nose when he turns around. This dude is crying immediately, laying on the floor of the bar, and Ozzy just drops a kick into his jaw, destroying the bone,” Max explains, and everyone is on the edge of their seat, waiting for the payoff.

Fallon isn’t phased while hearing about the more violent side of me, and her attention hasn’t shifted, either. I gently rub her shoulder, and she smiles at me, the radiant one that shows off her dimples, and my heart melts.

I’d do absolutely anything to see that smile every day, for the rest of my life.

“As soon as his screaming muffles and blood starts pouring out of his mouth, the group of guys focuses on Ozzy, looking to exact their revenge. Of course, they were no match for him, and in two punches he broke another guy’s jaw. The next guy stepped up – same fate. Finally, we had to pull him off his victims and flee the joint before he got arrested for three counts of assault. We ended up at a bar down the street, watching the ambulances come and take the jerks to the hospital, celebrating Ozzy with countless rounds of shots,” he continues, and all eyes are on me to finish the rest.

Every time we tell this story, they always have me end it, because I’m the only one who lived it. The guys bang on the table, racking up the excitement for the grand finale.

This time, I’m a little reluctant to share, seeing as I’m not looking to impress a bunch of hussies. This girl in my arms is everything to me, and scaring her off isn’t on my laundry list of things to do.

“After the shots, I blacked out, but the guys say they carried me back to our place, and I was passed out on the living room floor, face down on the carpet when three cops came barging in, dragging me through the apartment in just my boxers. I did get arrested for three counts of assault, and spent two days in jail, in my boxers, with two men who thought I was very pretty,” I explain, letting out a small laugh, as the rest of the guys hoot and holler.

Fallon is cracking up, her laughter echoing through the dealership and right into my soul.

“So what happened next?” She asks, shaking her head at me while sipping her beer.

“Well, Doc printed out the mugshot and framed it on the wall. Like he did anytime one of us got pinched, and we had a fucking party,” I say, and the guys bang on the table again, one of our rituals.

“Jesus Christ, Ozzy!” She squeals, and the blood in my veins turns to ice.

I thought she was content with what I do, knowing it crosses lines, but her reaction has me terrified, like this could be the straw that tips her mind in the opposite direction.

“What is it, Bambi?” I ask, scanning her eyes for a clue into her mind.

“Oh, nothing, just picturing you in handcuffs, in your boxers … sounds like I missed out on the show of a lifetime,” she teases, kissing my cheek while hers flush a deep shade of red.

“Bambi, you better watch that smart mouth, you might find yourself in a similar situation,” I say softly, watching as her eyes meet mine, heat and lust hiding behind those dark irises.

“You two need a private room?” Lex teases and everyone playfully shields their eyes.

Fallon climbs on my lap, pressing kisses to my neck, giving the guys a show, and I fucking love her confidence. If they want to tease her, she’ll give them something to talk about.

Everyone may be looking at her, but she’s with me, and I swear, lightning strikes inside my body every time her lips touch my skin.

“Never challenge me, Lex,” she warns, a joking tone in her voice as she climbs off me and pours herself a shot from the bottle of vodka on the table.

Having her in our environment is surreal, like something I’d only see in my wildest dreams. On the outside, she could be a princess in a fairytale, down to the big brown eyes and purple hair. Fallon shouldn’t blend in so seamlessly with our crew, the misfits, the criminals who don’t hesitate when it comes to harming others in the name of money, but somehow, she fits in like the lost puzzle piece.

I watch as she jumps into a conversation about sports betting, educating the guys on the probability of their odds with handwritten math equations, and I’ve never felt more at home with a group of people in my life. It’s like we’re finally complete .

“Alright, boys. That’s as basic as it gets, do we all understand how odds, spreads, and money lines work?” She asks, and they all nod, staring at her like she invented a new language.

Max wheels the whiteboard over, and everyone cheers as Fallon grabs a marker, scribbling her teachings on the board.

After an hour of Gambling 101 , the boys dive into their phones, scrambling to implement Fallon’s lessons, and I can finally have her all to myself.

“Class is dismissed,” I say selfishly, lifting her off the ground and tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her to my room.

The hooting and hollering can be heard even after we close the door, and we both collapse onto my bed in a fit of laughter.

“You’d make the sexiest teacher, Miss Fallon ,” I tease, kissing her neck tenderly, and gripping her hips as she moves closer to me.

“Ozzy, if you keep talking like that, you may have to stay for detention,” she purrs, and in a frenzy, I pull her lips to mine.

I’ve held back from kissing her all day, attempting to keep my focus only on her, and learning as much as I could about her as a person, versus her body, but I can’t resist those perfect pink lips any longer.

“Bambi, you keep finding new ways to amaze me,” I whisper in between kisses, my hands roaming her body like I can’t physically get close enough to her.

She responds to me so well, her breathy moans like a symphony, and she climbs on top of me, sitting on my stomach, raking her fingers through her hair as she looks down at me with those captivating, doe-like eyes.

“I love hanging out with your friends, jumping into your world, they’re so fun.” She smiles, her messy hair cascading in waves around her face.

“Can I ask you something, Fallon?” Her body tenses with my question, but she nods, and I keep my eyes locked on hers.

I swallow the lump that’s been in my throat since this morning, hoping that this is something we can navigate together. It’s a risk, but screw it, I’ve got the utmost faith in her, and in what we’re building.

“Are you going to be able to go to work tomorrow, knowing what we’re planning?” I ask, and her smile fades slightly, but she doesn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t get paid enough to be a hero.” She shakes her head and giggles, the kind that warms my heart.

I leave it at that, hoping she doesn’t get the wrong idea. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but everyone has a moral compass, and I don’t know which way hers leans.

“Do you trust me, Ozzy?” She asks in return, almost like she read the very thoughts in my mind.

“I trust you, Fallon. I’m not afraid you’re going to rat us out,” I tell her, but she doesn’t seem to buy it.

“I could. And for the break-in, too,” she says sternly, crossing her arms with one eyebrow raised, and I shake my head in confusion.

This conversation has quickly turned, and I can’t tell if she’s testing me, or faulting me for questioning her.

Either way, I feel like I’m playing with fire.

“Would you?”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t, since you clearly don’t trust me. I trust you enough to share the darkest things that have happened to me, but what? You’re worried that I’ll rat you out to my creepy boss?” She climbs off me, moving to the opposite side of the bed with a serious fire in her eyes that I haven’t seen yet, and it’s utterly terrifying.

I’m in shock, scared that I’ve crossed a line that could push her away from me, and I can’t find the words to salvage this.

To convince her to stay .

How do I explain what I feel for her, and know in my gut that I can trust her with my life when I’ve only met her a few days ago? Who would believe any of that coming from another person in this fucked up world?

It’s not like she’s asking if I trust her to house-sit for me, either. I’m a criminal, and I have to convince her that I trust her not to put me in jail .

Suddenly, I look at the girl at the edge of my bed, looking like she’s ready to run, and the words find themselves.

“Fallon, I’d do any job with you by my side. I trust you with my secrets, my criminal past and future, and most importantly, with my heart. I have no intentions of ever letting you go, but if you need to know how much I trust you, I will show you,” I say, searching her eyes as she patiently listens to my words.

“How?”

I take the blade off the nightstand, handing it to her without another word, and her eyes widen.

“By stabbing me?” She laughs, but not the kind I’ve grown to love.

It’s dripping with sarcasm, and she shakes her head aggressively, like she’s talking to herself as she gets up and walks toward the door.

I jump at her abrupt movement, gently grabbing her by the waist, and she sighs, looking up at me.

“No, Fallon. I’m not going to fucking stab you. Will you let me show you?” I beg, desperate for her approval.

I’d do anything for her, and I need her to believe me because watching her walk out that door might just put me in my fucking grave.

“Fine, show me,” she says, gesturing her hand toward the bed with that sassy attitude I love so much.

She’s defensive, letting me walk in front of her, almost like she’s protecting her body from me, and I hate what one simple question has led to, but it might be just what we need to solidify this.

I lift off my shirt, revealing my past scars, but Fallon’s face twists into something resembling what I think is confusion.

“Take it,” I urge, handing the blade to her again, and this time she takes it from my hand, flipping it around in her palm.

I watch as her eyes marvel over the stainless steel, and I’m certain that she feels power when the cold metal touches her hands. I know the first time I saw this specific blade, I felt unstoppable, like I was on top of the world when I held it.

“So, you want me to stab you ?” She bites her lip slightly as she avoids looking into my eyes, but I can feel the lust radiating off her.

She’s turned on by the thought.

“Blood oath, Fallon. Right here,” I say, trailing my finger across the scars on my chest.

There are six markings, all unique, and done by the members of the crew. It was Doc’s way of ensuring we’d all take these jobs to the grave, and it’s the only thing I can think of to make her believe me.

Fallon doesn’t hesitate, tossing her hair in a bun and coming closer to me, still holding the knife in her right hand.

She brushes the hair away from my chest, lightly trailing kisses around the scars that I’ve carried on my body for years.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers, placing the tip of the knife against my skin.

“You won’t, my beautiful girl . Mark me however you want. Then, the blood on the knife is yours,” I assure her, watching as the lust blows out her pupils, leaving nothing but darkness in her eyes.

Not only does she want to do this, but she thrives off it. The anger is gone, and in its place is pure mischief. Her focus hasn’t shifted as she trails the tip along my skin, and I’m trained on her eyes, watching how this affects her. It’s like she’s fully opening her mind, body and soul, readily giving it all to me with one simple act.

She presses into me, using enough force to draw blood, and I suck in a breath while she drags the blade across my skin.

It doesn’t feel any different than the other marks on my body, or the tattoos I’ve gotten. The pain from the act of cutting into flesh is numbing, and I relish in the few minutes where I feel nothing .

Finally, she sits back, admiring her work, and I open my eyes to hers.

“B for Bambi,” she whispers, watching the drips of blood form into a puddle on the tip of the knife.

Her eyes shift to mine, then back to the blade, and I notice the moment her tongue swipes her bottom lip, then quickly retreats, as if she’s contemplating what I think she is.

“Taste it, Bambi.”

“If I do, you have to do it to me,” she says softly, slowly bringing the blade's tip to her lips.

“Done.”

She nods slightly, and I watch in awe as she licks my blood off the knife without a second thought. Her eyes close as she tastes the metallic on her tongue, the phenomenal feeling sweeping her into a special place that not any average person can handle.

It’s a surreal feeling, the first time you taste someone else’s blood, and I’m lucky enough to bear witness to Fallon’s introduction into a world that only suits the ones who are brave enough to enter it.

“Wow,” she breathes, her cheeks flushed a new shade of pink, and she’s visibly turned on.

She scrapes her teeth along her bottom lip, and her whole body shakes as she sits up from her crouched position.

“Did you like that?” I ask, hoping to press her buttons a little, wind her up even more than she already is.

“ Yes .” A moan softly escapes her throat as she hands the knife back to me.

“Where do you want yours?”

She just shrugs, spreading out on the mattress and giving me permission to place my mark wherever I want. I don’t choose a visible spot, instead placing my claim strategically, somewhere hidden enough that only she and I will know exists.

I play on her newfound weakness, dragging the tip of the blade down her torso, over her belly, and stopping when I reach her inner thigh. I glance up, searching her eyes, and that fire I saw earlier is gone, replaced by the heightened sense of euphoria we’re chasing together.

“Here,” I whisper, and she nods, slowly slipping her leggings off and tossing them on the floor.

She sits before me, her legs spread, with only a pair of black panties on, and I bite my lip in awe, wondering how I got so fucking lucky.

“Are you sure, Bellissima ?” I ask, and her entire body shivers, reacting strongly when I speak Italian.

“Do it, Ozzy,” she breathes, and I ease her body down, ensuring she’s not tense.

I draw blood from her thigh and listen to the sounds she makes while I drag the tip around her flesh, carefully carving out the perfect design on her delicate skin.

The blood pools on the blade, and she watches with bated breath as I lick it clean, and throw it onto the floor.

“Come here, Bambi,” I whisper, and she sits up, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Kiss me. Now.”

I don’t disobey her wishes, and she’s ferocious, her body craving more. I give into her demands, biting her lips and trailing kisses down her neck with an intensity that I haven’t given her yet. I leave rough, claiming bite marks in every place possible, feeling her body react under mine as she cries out, and digs her nails into my shoulders.

Her panties are soaked as she grinds herself against my thigh, almost begging to be fucked.

“Do you want me, Fallon? In every sense of the word?” I question, and she groans, bucking her hips against me once more.

“Yes, baby, I want you.”

“Everything that entails, Bambi. You’re mine, and you don’t threaten to run away again. Do you understand me?” I affirm, and she attempts to nod, but I place my hand on her throat, holding her down so she can’t run away again.

“ Mine .”

“I’m yours, Ozzy. Everything ,” she whimpers, and I bite her lip until I draw blood, reveling in the newfound obsession we share.

That’s all I need to know as I rip her shirt off, revealing her bare chest, and I immediately nip at her skin, loving how she reacts to my aggression.

“Can I take these off?” My lips hovering over her panties as I wait for her consent.

“ Per favore,” she whispers, sending me into overdrive as I attempt to devour every inch of her skin.

I tear the sheer, black fabric into shreds, throwing the remnants onto the floor, and I wrap my hands around her thighs. I watch with shaky breaths as she spreads her legs for me and I notice that there’s blood still dripping down her thigh.

I gently lap up the remnants before they soak into the sheets, and she moans loudly as I suck on the wound, nearly crying as I dig my tongue into her open flesh.

“Ozzy, please,” she cries, and I slowly insert two fingers into her entrance, thrusting lightly as her walls clench around me.

“What do you want, Bambi?” I muse, and she bucks her hips gently against my thigh, telling me all I need to know.

“More, please.”

“You’re such a good girl, always saying please. I should reward you.” I take her by the hair, but instead of submitting to me, she shocks me, attempting to take some of the control.

“Let me reward you.” She smirks, her eyes locking into mine, looking up at me as she wraps her hand around my cock through my pants.

I groan in response, knowing I don’t deserve her gentle touch. Still, she bends forward, her fingers fumbling with the waistband of my sweats and boxers, but she drags them down my legs, tossing them to the floor with reckless abandon.

God, she’s the hottest fucking woman in the world.

Slowly, she works her hand around my hardness, spitting into her hand for a bit of lubrication, and I swear, if I didn’t crave her mouth on a regular basis, I’d blow just from the adoring look on her face.

In a torturous way, she barely connects her lips to my cock, and slowly pulls away, her tongue dancing around my tip.

It’s agonizing, my toes curling at the ways she finds pleasure in teasing me, but the second she takes me in her mouth fully, I let out a guttural moan that should be criminal for a man my size, but I don’t give a flying fuck .

She feels so damn good, I’d let the entire world know how perfect she is, and what she does to me.

In a way that might kill me, I keep holding back while she takes me deep in her throat in intervals, until I’m the one who’s begging for relief.

I attempt to pull her off me, but she shakes her head, taking me further than she ever has, and my entire body tenses as she plunges straight back, holding her position until gagging and coughing overtake her dominance.

“I’m not going to break.” She rolls her eyes, diving back down for another round, and I can’t help the smile that creeps across my face.

My beautiful little argumentative dream girl.

“I love you, Fallon,” I slip, and her eyes widen.

She stops for a split second, her mouth hovering above my cock when she smirks, licking her lips one more time before taking me as far as she can into her throat.

This time feels different somehow, and when she comes up, her tongue dances across my tip, teasing me until I’m ready to break.

She spits into her hand, working my shaft even harder, and just when I think she’s trying to play a game with me, she reaches for my lips and whispers the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.

“I love you, too, Ozzy.”

It’s a moment that I won’t ever forget, and even though it’s been five days since I met Fallon, I know this is right.

I love her, and for some crazy, unexplainable reason, she loves me too.

“Come here,” I whisper, using my index finger to guide her, bringing us face to face.

“You love me?” She questions, that beautiful smile lighting up my entire world.

I kiss her forehead tenderly, placing my hands on her shoulders to keep her close to me.

“I do, Bambi. Let me show you?” I whisper, and she nods, lifting the shirt over my head.

“Don’t be gentle this time.” She kisses down my chest, a slight whine in her voice as she relinquishes all control.

I do as she asks, snatching her up by the hair, and tilting her chin upward.

“On your knees, Fallon,” I order, swiping her bottom lip with the pad of my thumb.

“Yes, Ozzy.” She obeys, smirking as she kneels before me, waiting for me to make a move.

I trail my finger along her jawline, debating on what I should do with her, and I part her lips, encouraging her to stick her tongue out.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, Bambi. You ask for permission to cum, and I want to hear how loud you can be, understand?” I bend down, kissing her with my hand around her throat, feeling as she moans into my mouth, and she’s slowly rocking her hips, waiting for any source of friction.

I spin her around, lifting her ass in the air, and placing her hands on the edge of the bed.

I slap her cheeks one at a time, listening as she yelps, and the louder she gets only makes me do it harder until her skin is bright red with my handprints.

“Do you want me to touch you here, my beautiful girl? ” I dip a finger into her entrance and she cries out, her words almost illegible as I set the pace.

“Yes, please, Ozzy,” she whines, her body completely reactive as I slip a second finger inside her.

I thrust into her at a faster pace, knowing that she wants more, but keeping her right on the brink of pleasure.

“I’m so close, can I cum, please?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice as she moans the last few words, hanging on by just a thread.

“No, you may not.” I pull my fingers out of her, playing the game, yet unable to resist the urge to taste her.

She whines, lowering her body flat onto the bed, her legs shaking as she tries to hold them together, attempting to mask the orgasm that ripped through her body.

“Ass up, Bambi,” I order, slapping her cheeks again, the sting causing her to scream.

I watch as she gets back into position, and I can’t take the teasing anymore, lining myself to her entrance and plunging into her core. She screams when I begin pounding into her, releasing all of my pent-up tension on her body.

“Louder, Fallon.” I grit my teeth, feeling her walls clench around my cock.

I squeeze her hips, looking for leverage as I pick up the pace, and she buries her face into the blankets while screaming my name.

“Ozzy, please, I need to cum,” she begs, and I pull her up by the hair.

I take her by the throat with her back against my chest and squeeze as her body begins to tremble.

“Cum on my fucking cock, Bambi. Fall apart in my arms,” I whisper in her ear, and she groans in relief.

I take my free hand and rub her clit, knowing that it drives her wild, and it’s music to my ears when she cries out, her body shaking against mine.

“Fuck, Ozzy. Oh my god,” she breathes, and I flip her onto her back.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I tease, and her eyes widen.

The bite marks from earlier stand out on her skin, and I roughly grab her breasts, pinching her nipples while she writhes beneath me, her body still trembling.

I slip back inside her, her moans thundering throughout the room in response as I stretch her again, and I hoist her legs over my shoulders, burying myself deep into her core.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Fallon. Absolutely perfect when you take all of my cock,” I groan, placing my hands on each side of her face.

“Kiss me,” she breathes, and I crash my lips into hers, tangling our tongues together.

We stay intertwined like this until she’s begging me to cum again, and this time, I force her to hold out.

“Not yet, Bambi. We’re going to finish at the same time, hold on for me,” I breathe, picking up my pace as she screams in desperation.

“I can’t wait, Ozzy. I need to –” She grips my forearms and digs her nails deep into my skin, but I part her lips with my finger, watching as she swirls her tongue around it, and that’s it, I’m a goner.

“Now, Fallon.” I grit my teeth, letting my body tense up until my release spills into her.

I watch in awe as her chest heaves while she attempts to catch her breath, and she wears my marks proudly on her body.

“You’re incredible, Fallon,” I whisper in her ear as I hold her against my chest.

We lay together, a mess of sweat, blood, and tears, but nothing has felt more perfect in my entire life.

We’ve solidified our relationship with a blood oath, and nothing can break that apart. Fallon is my other half, and we have the scars to prove it.

“Let me take care of you, Bambi?” I ask, and she nods, letting me dress her in one of my t-shirts.

“I’m starving,” she laughs, and I promise that I’ll cook her a late-night snack.

“First, you’re going to let me wash your hair, and clean you up, okay?” I lift her off the bed and carry her through the dealership, all eyes on us yet again.

“Are you two done fucking so we can get some sleep?” Oliver calls out, but Fallon flips him the middle finger.

“Do you plan on carrying her everywhere, Oz?” Journey jokes, and I can’t help but laugh.

“If that’s what she wants,” I counter, shutting the door behind us.

They’re all so damn nosey, waiting for any glimpse of us, listening in on our private moments. As much as I love them, they’re getting on my nerves.

I turn the water on hot and stand behind Fallon as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“I’m a mess,” she laughs, referring to her smeared makeup and knotted hair.

“You’re stunning, Bambi,” I whisper against her neck, running my tongue along the teeth marks indented into her skin.

I help her out of my clothes and guide her under the water, gently running my fingers through her tangled hair.

“Ozzy, I’m getting dangerously attached to you,” she whispers, tipping her head back as I lather my conditioner through her purple locks.

“Fallon, I have no plans to let you sleep alone, ever again. Attach yourself to me all you want,” I confess, and she spins to wrap her arms around my neck.

“You own better hair products than I do,” she laughs, and I kiss her forehead, letting this perfect moment sweep us both off our feet.

We wash each other’s bodies and tenderly clean our wounds until the water turns cold and we’re forced to get out and dry off. I do everything I can to take care of Fallon, something she confesses is new to her, and it makes me happy to do the small things like making a plate of nachos at midnight, or refilling her water before bed. She knows how much I care for her, and I love being the person who makes her smile, even if it’s because of small gestures.

I can’t help but watch as she’s curled into my chest, snoring lightly, and admittedly, I’m holding onto her for dear life.

If one small miscommunication can lead her astray, there are a million other things that could also send her running, and if she left me, I wouldn’t ever be the same.

All I know for sure is that she means the world to me, and there’s nothing that could force me to break our oath.

Her initials are carved over my heart.

My heart is sliced into her thigh, ensuring that we’ll always be together, no matter what.