Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 62679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
No one but me.
I close my hand around her throat at the realization.
“Why do you want it like this?” I’m still fucking her, still thrusting deep and hard. “Why?”
“Make me come. Please make me come.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s you and me and this is how we are. Please, Sebastian. I need this. You. Like this.” She draws me closer to her, buries her face in my shoulder. “I need to forget the rest.”
I grip her legs with both hands and push them wide and she’s wet and tight and moaning as I fuck her deep, deeper than I’ve been with her before, and when I feel her spasm around me, when I hear her cry out and she’s coming, I come too, my body going limp as I empty inside her, giving her everything I have, every ounce of me.
6
Sebastian
She falls asleep easily in my bed. I watch her, curled into me, small and soft and safe.
I look at the clock, barely two in the morning.
Opposite her, I won’t sleep tonight.
I never do on this night.
Pushing the covers back, I climb out of the bed, careful not to disturb her. I pull on my jeans and a sweater. The nights are cooling off, fall is fast approaching. I walk out of my bedroom, down the stairs, pick up my shoes which are by the door. I grab one set of keys and walk out of the house, heading to the water’s edge.
The sand is cool beneath my bare feet and I stop to listen to the sound of water lapping against the shore.
How calm it is. How comfortably predictable. It’s always the same, no matter what. No matter the chaos on the island or in my head.
And tonight, there is chaos.
I have her back. She’s safe.
After Lucinda shot me, I woke up in my bed, my arm stitched up where the bullet grazed it, a flesh wound. I wonder if I hadn’t caught her wrist if she’d have hit her mark. Killed me. I wonder if that was her intent or if rage clouded her judgment.
I wonder about my meetings with Joseph Gallo. With David Vitelli. I wonder which of them turned on me. They’ll need to be punished and I’ll get to that.
But not tonight.
Tonight is for something else.
And Helena’s back. She’s asleep in my bed. She’s safe.
Lucinda and Ethan are gone—for now.
I walk right up to the water, let it run over my toes. I run a hand through my hair wondering what’s happened to me in the last month? Since she came into my life.
No. That’s not the way to say it.
She didn’t come willingly.
I stole her out of her life and forced her into mine.
She has every right to hate me, yet she doesn’t. She clings to me. And I can’t get her out of my head. Out from under my skin. I can’t get enough of touching her, can’t get close enough to her, not even when I’m buried deep inside her.
I look up at the sky, dark enough tonight that I can see stars.
It’s a new moon. And it fits the day.
Black.
Today is my twenty-ninth birthday.
When the next wave reaches my ankles, it soaks the bottoms of my jeans.
I step backward. Sand sticks to my wet feet.
Time to move. Time to get off the island. Just for one night.
Gregory will take care of Helena.
I make my way to one of the two boats, climb on board, start the engine. It seems louder at night and I take one look at the house, at my dark window.
She’s tucked inside, safe and sound. She’ll be here when I get back.
7
Helena
I wake up alone late the next morning. Sebastian’s side of the bed is cold. It’s after ten. I don’t usually sleep late, I never did at home at least, but here, time is all I have.
Pushing the covers off, I get up, shower, go to my room to dress. I’m surprised when I get downstairs and don’t see anyone. Both brothers must have eaten already.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, add cream and pick up a piece of toast. I take it over to the pool which sparkles like a hundred diamonds in the bright sun. I sit at the edge and let my feet hang in the cool water while I eat my toast and drink my coffee.
There’s no one around, not a gardener, not any of the girls who work in the kitchen or set or clear the meals. The island is quiet. Quieter than usual. It’s almost eerie and I wonder if I’m not alone.
When I finish my toast and coffee, I get up and walk around the corner and see that one of the boats is missing. I go back inside, peek into the kitchen.
Empty, not a single pot on the stove. Nothing baking. No dirty dishes in the sink waiting to be washed.