Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
She isn’t used to this and she’s acting out.
Nothing more.
I’m sober enough to run up the long, curling staircase without breaking my neck before I slam the door to my room shut, thank fuck.
I need to sleep this off.
In the morning, I’ll be wherever she isn’t. I’ll scout out every inch of this miserable castle and figure out how we can avoid crossing paths again.
I can fuck chicks with a little crazy.
I could fuck my own stepsister, too.
But I can’t fuck a virgin, no matter how much this animalistic darkness in my soul howls at me to mount her, to claim her, to ruin her for life.
I have a few civilized bones left in my body, thank you very much, and I also have limits.
Delia doesn’t deserve the inevitable poison and heartbreak the minute after I’m spent.
My third rule has always been the most important for good reason.
I don’t do love, and loving her when she gives up her body is all she deserves.
7
Purple Princess (Delia)
Welp, it happened.
I played with fire, and I got burned.
This whole idea was stupid. Idiotic. Devastating.
Worst of all, it’s my own freaking fault.
It takes me a long time to drag myself upstairs after I calm down and find a broom to sweep up the broken glass. I won’t have our housekeepers cleaning up a mess I never should’ve made.
A long hot shower helps take the edge off my nerves.
Then I settle down in front of my computer, desperate for a new idea.
There’s a new message from the professor. Of course, he says the SEAL idea sounds promising.
Yeah, about that...
My stomach knots. I can’t fathom how I’m supposed to do a character study on a man I can’t stand being in the same room with.
Not after that.
Whatever that was.
Sighing, I close the laptop and try to crash for the night, hiding under the blankets, drowning out as much of my life as I can.
I just need time. Maybe a nice distraction like travel. There’s still time before summer ends.
There’s a fog wrapped around my body and soul. A trip could banish the worst of it, and as long as I’m off from school, I have the time.
When you’re the daughter of a man who runs an airline, hopping on a plane is about as easy as boarding a city bus.
All I have to do is ask, and I’ll be holding a first-class ticket to anywhere I’d like.
I’m tempted to hop the red-eye up to Washington or even Alaska for a week. Immersing myself in lush greenery and mountains and endless wild air feels like a great way to forget all about Chris Triton and the infinite ways he’s complicated my life.
But I can’t go there just yet.
Not while the step-prick is still here. His presence in the same house knifes through me, ringing like a silent blaring dog whistle that just won’t shut up and only I can hear.
What the hell is his deal, anyway?
So the whole 'oops, we’re accidentally related' thing isn’t too much for him, but the fact that I’m a virgin is?
God.
I’d have never gone all the way regardless, but if I did...
...shouldn’t most guys want a virgin?
I don’t understand.
And the way he stormed off, pushing me away like I went from gorgeous to ghastly in ten seconds, feels worse than any normal rejection.
He’s so full of himself he could choke on that ego.
Maybe all men are, but I can’t imagine a bigger selfish headcase than this badass freak I’m cursed to share a wall with now.
How can he believe he’ll mess me up forever if we did the unthinkable?
Marnie barely remembers who she slept with her first time, and it hasn’t slowed her down a bit from adding to her serial body count.
Whatever he thinks, I’m the one who suffers from overthinking.
I’m tossing and turning all night.
When I look at my phone around four a.m., I’m sitting up in bed. I listen intently through the quiet, lonely house for any sound of him stirring.
I’m not just restless.
I’m desperate to prove him wrong—to prove to myself just how much I don’t need him or his stupid rejection of a fling that was never happening.
Half an hour later, I hear a subtle chiming sound.
A phone alarm, muted through the wall, and not just in my head.
A minute later, heavy footsteps behind the wall. He’s moving around, probably getting ready for a very early day.
I wait until his door clicks open before I race to mine and fling it open, jumping out in the hall.
He stops in his tracks, staring at me like I’m a ghost.
“What?” he barks coldly, holding the huge black bag of military gear I’ve seen him packing before.
“We’re not done yet,” I say firmly, pushing my hands against his chest. “Look, I don’t care if you don’t want me. That’s not the point. I won’t let you tease me anymore.”