Yours Cruelly (Paper Cuts #2) Read Online Winter Renshaw

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama Tags Authors: Series: Paper Cuts Series by Winter Renshaw
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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My entire body ripples with such intensity as I scream out his name and come with such force hard that I’m practically sobbing, even as I start to come down.

He must’ve been holding out on me because the second I find myself coming down, he plummets deep into me, holding me there, and I feel him pulsating inside me. He lets out a long, muffled groan into my hair, then whispers my name, his breath hot against my ear.

“Stassi,” he murmurs as the shuddering subsides, gazing dreamily into my eyes. He falls then, completely limp, into my arms. “You’re everything.”

I’ve been called a lot of things before, but never that.

Alec places a gentle kiss on my collarbone as I bask in his words. But as the heat of the moment slips away, it becomes more and more clear: I’ve done what I told myself I wouldn’t do again.

I’ve jumped without a net.

And I know better than anyone how hard the ground can be.

20

Alec

As cold as it is on this March day, it’s colder still, knowing I have to spend it at the Maine Medical Center. It’s already not my favorite place, because it’s a hospital. My place of work. It’s been even worse, though, because for another twenty-two hours, there’s no chance I’ll be seeing Stassi.

Three days.

That’s how long it’s been since we made love and she left my place like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

I don’t know how she does it. We live right next to each other, practically in each other’s business. I’ve seen that sex-addict roommate of hers, plenty of times, usually when she gets in her car and heads to work. I feel like an idiot, or a Pomeranian, every time I run to the front window, hoping to catch Stassi, only to be disappointed.

It’s like she’s like a ghost. Either she’s spending all of her time in her apartment, not making a sound, or she’s doing an expert job of avoiding me.

I strongly suspect it’s the last one.

Maybe I should be, too.

There’s no way I can face the Huttons now. The first time, I might have been able to chalk it up to a drunken accident, a lonely mistake. But twice? I all but pounced on the woman. Zero self-restraint. And it was incredible. But like everything else, actions have consequences.

Still, I can’t bring myself to regret a moment of the nights we’ve spent together. Every time I think about her, I only want more. The sex was phenomenal. I didn’t think it was possible to beat the first time, but somehow it was monumentally better the second time around.

And it wasn’t just hate sex.

I think there was a little bit of “like” in there, too.

Or maybe it was all in my mind.

Maybe I’m going crazy.

I must be, because even now, as I finish my rounds this evening, Stassi is all I can think about. Even though, at this moment, I’m positive she’s back to cursing my name.

I somehow make my way through the elderly woman with an acute respiratory infection and the man with chest pains. They’re standard cases, nothing I haven’t treated a hundred times before, so I order an echo for the man and instruct the nurses to pump the woman full of fluids. When I’m done, it’s miraculously time to head home.

My twenty-four-thousand-hour shift is finally over.

Tucking my white coat in my locker, I pull my phone out with the hope that Stassi might’ve finally decided to use the number I gave her.

She hasn’t. Of course she hasn’t.

Instead, there’s a message from Cooper.

I grit my teeth for a second, thinking, She told him. But then I open it.

It’s just an invitation.

Cooper: Hey, brother, we’re going out for lobster tomorrow. You want in?

Brother. It was great catching up with them during dinner, and I felt welcome, like part of the family. But now, I don’t feel like their brother anymore.

I feel like a traitor.

How am I supposed to show up with a straight face and act like I didn’t just screw their little sister … twice?

Still, going out with old friends, cracking some beers, talking about the old times might be exactly what I need to take my mind off her. Otherwise, I’m probably going to do something stupid. Try too hard, again. Kiss her ass. Be that pathetic Pomeranian. And push her even farther away in the process.

Alec: Sounds good.

When I get home, her apartment is dark. It’s after nine. I wonder if she’s still at Ted’s, getting ready to close up.

If she is, I’m not going to make the mistake of going in there so she can ignore me—or, even worse, sic Markie the Italian bulldog on me. There’s no doubt that lady does not like me. She practically bit my ass, chasing me out the door, a couple weeks ago.



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