Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Pathetic fucking prick, I’m going to—”
The video cuts off. Seamus gently takes his phone back and shoves it into his pocket.
I stare at the space where I just watched my boyfriend admit to being a drug addict, a cheater, and a fucking bastard.
How didn’t I see it earlier?
I feel so pathetic and stupid.
Now I can see a clear pattern of behavior stretching back to the beginning of our relationship.
The disappearances. The long-sleeve shirts, probably worn to cover up his needle marks. The constant excuses, most of which were flimsy and obviously lies.
I just didn’t care enough. And I didn’t want to know the truth.
The door slowly opens wider as I step back away from my future husband. He’s still watching me carefully with this curious frown, like he’s trying to read my reaction.
I feel like my world’s opening up and swallowing me.
I’ve been living a lie. This whole time, I’ve been telling myself I’m one thing—smart, in control, powerful—when really I’ve just been the pathetic other girl for some drug addict loser.
Papa’s right about me.
I’ll never be strong like my mother.
I’ll never be worthy of the Morozov name.
“You going to be okay?” Seamus asks softly, and I think that’s what finally breaks the spell.
The way he’s focusing on me.
All my life, I’ve done what’s right. I followed the rules. I played the game. I was rewarded in some ways, but in so many others I’ve been shoved aside and treated like nothing more than a pretty little doll.
Like a glittering jewel on a shelf.
Attractive and valuable. But not practical.
I might as well embrace it.
Without thinking too much, I pull off the big sweatshirt. Seamus stares at me, lips parting with mild surprise, as I toss it aside and stand in front of him.
Wearing only a black lacy bra, a pair of matching panties, and the pearls he gave me.
“Come inside,” I say before I can turn back.
He doesn’t move. “You’re emotional.”
“I definitely am.”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“Probably not.”
His jaw works. He’s still not moving, but he’s staring at me with visible hunger. “I’m not a good person,” he says softly and slowly. “I don’t do the right thing.”
“Then you’re my type.” I step back into the apartment. “Come inside.”
Chapter 4
Alina
He follows me like I’m dragging a string tied around his waist. He shuts the door behind him with his foot, slamming it shut.
“You might regret this.”
“I already do.”
“But you’re not stopping.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Good, because I’m not either.”
He keeps following me. Step for step. Slowly and carefully. Staring at me the whole time, eyes roaming my body, making goosebumps shiver down my naked skin.
We reach the bedroom.
I stumble on the edge of the rug.
And Seamus surges forward like that one wrong move breaks the spell. His right hand sneaks around my hips and presses into my lower back, making me gasp with surprise as his other hand slips into my hair.
He grips hard.
We stand there a moment. Me, nearly naked, pearls around my neck, flushed and breathing hard.
Emotional and scared.
And wanting this so badly it’s like a hole in my chest.
Seamus looks like a dark, murdering god, an unholy demon who survives on lust and all that’s pleasure and wrong.
He bends down, lightly brushing his lips to mine.
“Shouldn’t we save this for our wedding night?” he whispers.
“No, thanks. I don’t think I can save it for ten minutes from now.”
His lips press hard and he kisses me.
The first touch of him was intoxicating. His fingers and his smell draw me close like a song playing just for me. But it’s his taste that slams a needle straight into the base of my skull and leaves me brainless with want.
Mint, whiskey, promise. A little hit of something sharp and metallic. Like fresh blood.
His tongue invades my mouth, his lips strong and soft all at once, the hand in my hair tangling and tightening as he dominates me. I moan into his mouth, shocked at my physical reaction as my core begins to pulse and my nipples stiffen. I’ve never been this turned on in my life. Not even close. That hand on my lower back slips down to my ass and lightly squeezes, and he lets out this erotic groan.
He likes it. He really, really likes it.
That drives me wild. I kiss him harder, throwing myself into the moment. Losing myself in the wrongness. We shouldn’t be doing this, not right now. One day we’ll be married and this will be expected, but right now?
I’m too emotional. And he’s a fucking bastard.
I still can’t help myself.
His hand moves off my ass and up my body. He explores me, fingers tracing lines along my hips, up my spine, down my breasts. I whimper at that light caress, and he begins to back me toward the bed. I stagger, still kissing him, before he finally wrenches my head back, pulling my hair.