k... kiss...
   He came with a reputation that most steered clear from. The boy from the Gorge in the middle of Arizona. The sharpshooter with a mouth and a bite like a dog. Agents were warned about him, and Gabriel was quite clear, stay away from the new recruit. He doesnât quite play well with others. And for the most part, reputation was true. He was a nightmare; torn from fights where forks were weapons, slammed into walls just to keep people from bleeding more from him after the warnings didnât ring too clear. And it was issued againâSTAY away from him.   They didnât talk about the times to catch him alone.   The ones where the smile felt wicked, but in the right lightâit was handsome. They donât warn you about the way the drawl keeps to his lips and curves in the right way that even threats sound seductive. Or the way his eyes simmer in the dark and turn warm, and honeyed by the sun. No one ever warns you all the ways McCree can be soft when he wants to be. Playfully crass with small tugs of her jacket, playful looks while teeth click against the metal of his dog tags. A strange manipulation that beckons curiosity; maybe heâs not so bad when you get to know him.   But heâs hard to read, the way his hands are kept in his pockets, but he circles in like prey. His smile a false kindness as he breaches space, and quietly temptation coerces her in. They donât talk about the way his lips feel across her skin, warm and vicious; like a hunger heâs been desperate for and greedily take more of. The way his hands hike her across his thigh, so their chests are flush and thereâs little means of escape. McCree kisses like a dream; one with aggression and wanting that conflict the need and desire tucked beneath.    The flat of his palm presses firm at the small of her back, teeth grazing along the throat as he groans against the heat and softness; crawling down across the the curve of of her ass. There are reasons why they warn you not to test the wiles of coyotes. They are vicious beneath the guise of caution. Their teeth are sharp behind their smiles. Jesse McCree was no different. He hunted with dogs and could croon their call, he made danger look tempting and with hands that clutched close and lips that dragged heat and hungerâit was hard to resist what people tell you to stay away from.Â
