Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
But I did care what he thought of me.
I’d always cared what he thought of me.
Which is why I was so fucking broken when he left.
He got back up from me and took the thong with him. I closed my eyes and caught my breath and didn’t bother to look where he took it, just knew it would be somewhere safe for later.
“Cigarette and shower,” he told me, and I nodded, knowing full well there was no way I’d be turning down a cigarette after that performance.
I followed him downstairs with my ass on fire and glugged my water from my sports flask as he pulled the packet down from the shelf. He lit one up for me and handed it over.
And then he laughed. A laugh that had me laughing along with him, incapable of immunity to the thrill of the euphoric high.
I took deep drags on my cigarette, and looked at that man grinning at me, and I couldn’t stop it. I was grinning right the way back, loving life with a crazy flash in me that I couldn’t deny.
I should’ve come to my senses and got him to take me home, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.
I should’ve confessed my sins and reached out to some scowling associates of mine to talk some sanity back into me, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.
Instead, I sent off some stupid be back soon, I’m fine messages to the bleating contacts and showered alongside his perfect body and perfectly hard cock. I washed my hair with his expensive shampoo while he teased my clit all over again and washed us down with some foam.
I dried off with towels that smelt like him and loved them for it.
We ate some great tasting salmon pasta and then he fucked me over the kitchen counter.
And then he got the wine from the fridge, and asked me if I wanted a prosecco this time around.
Curse my life, I said yes.
I had one glass.
He had three and finished the bottle.
He put his stereo on and played his tunes high enough that the bass throbbed through the walls.
I hadn’t heard music like that in years.
He danced.
I danced along with him.
He picked me up and spun me around and I was heady from one little glass of fizz and it had me laughing. Singing. Enjoying myself more than anyone should have enjoyed anything with this prick of a man.
And then the prick asked me for a song of my choice.
One song of all songs that he could play at full volume while we danced around together.
So I chose it.
The song I’d played for years and always thought of him and cursed his name while I played with myself.
The song with the words that had always given me a shiver and a pang for how much I still wanted that total asshole who destroyed my heart.
And a pang for how much I hated him.
“Poison,” I said. “By Alice Cooper.”
He put it on.
Chapter Ten
Lucas
She was addictive and I couldn’t get enough. My burn for her was scorching the air between us, steaming against the ice of her stare, pure unbridled lust as that song struck up.
Her hair was wild, messy from my sweaty grip, and her makeup was a mess to match, what little there was of it. But it was her eyes – jewels of a glare that had me transfixed more than anything.
Fire.
Spark.
Passion.
Us.
I knew I was her poison. I knew I was the toxic need that drove her crazy, just as crazy as my need for her drove me. Only mine had no hate chained along with it.
She was bristling along with those lyrics as she glared across, lips still puffy from my kisses and the filthy panties I’d made her take from me.
Anna Blackwell could never have looked more beautiful than she did in that moment, fighting the need to be here with every scrap of her being and failing.
I closed the distance in a flash, grabbing her tight. Her arms closed around my shoulders, that same glare at full volume as her eyes crashed back into mine. She was living the lyrics. Breathing the lyrics. And I was breathing them right back at her, snaking my hands down her ass and hitching her against me all the harder.
And then I kissed her all over again.
Her fingers gripped so tight that it was undeniable she wanted to destroy me. Her whole body bristled with spite, and disgust, and regret for ever messaging me that Sunday morning.
But still, she kissed me right back.
Her mouth was an attack in its ferocity, her tongue battling with mine even as her body surrendered. She softened against me, heavy against my thigh as it ground fresh on her ragged clit. My teeth nipped at her lips, demanding her filthy little soul with the rest of her.