Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I shook myself to get rid of his presence, which seemed to hang in the air like a specter. This is why I didn’t want to go anywhere near him or his stupid office. This is all Dad’s fault. He’s supposed to be helping me out here, dealing with the mess that I just left, so how could he throw me into an even bigger fire, this raging inferno that seems to have heated up a bunch in the last hour or so?
I screamed in disgust when the towel did improper things to my thoughts when I tried drying off. I walked around my room naked, afraid at just the thought of pulling on something that would further inflame my senses because even air against my skin was making me uncomfortable.
I climbed into bed and jumped right back out again; even the sheets were against me. My body was too sensitive to touch. I sat there shaking my head while silently cursing Julius Blair for existing.
JULIUS
Four days. It’s been four days since I last saw her, and they’ve all been some level of hell. My office doesn’t feel like mine anymore; I both dread and look forward to going in each day now, knowing that her presence still lingers. I know it’s not possible, but I swear I can still smell her perfume in the air, and to make matters worse, each day at about the time she’d arrived here, I get very tense.
My body goes into this zone where it’s as if I’m reliving that moment from memory. Sometimes, I even find myself waiting for the phone to ring with her father on the other end, telling me that she was on her way. It’s bad, it’s really bad.
I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything without thinking about her. I close my eyes, and she’s there; I open them, and she’s there. She follows me into my dreams and latches on to me throughout the day until I think I’m going crazy.
I heard a snap and looked down at the pencil in my hand that I had just snapped in half for no good reason. What else am I going to break? Yesterday, it was a wine glass at dinner. I’d dropped the stupid thing because I forgot it was in my hand.
My idiot brother took that opportunity to remind me of all my screwups for the week and broadcast everything that I had done in the last few days that he called suspect right there in front of everyone. Now, that wouldn’t be so bad had it not been for my sister-in-law.
Little Vicki is like the moon to my brother’s sun; she’s the calming force in his life and the family’s to some extent, but she has a protective streak in her a mile wide. I wouldn’t mind it so much if part of it didn’t stem from guilt.
I know she still blames herself for what happened between me and Melanie and for every failed relationship I’ve had since then, and no amount of telling her it wasn’t true seems to get through to her. So, his going on about me not being myself only made her worry, and I had to deal with the fallout, which runs the gamut from her checking my forehead for signs of fever to her questioning me like a damn MI6 inspector.
Roman, for all that he’s a pain in the ass, had cornered me in my room later that first night to dig his nose in my shit, and I was sensible enough not to give anything away, or my crazy family would have me hitched to that nut faster than I can blink.
I should’ve known when he didn’t get what he was looking for out of me that he’d go elsewhere, and that’s what he’d done, and that’s how he learned from my assistant that Jess had been here. He hasn’t said or done anything with that information so far, but I tremble to think of what he has planned, if anything.
This is all her damn fault. Why can’t she be like everyone else? All those other women who try to get under my skin and fail miserably because my barriers are up and unshakable. Why did she have to invade my space? Not only that, but she followed me home, and everywhere else I try to go these days.
So, I’m sitting here at the beginning of what was supposed to be a very busy workday with no interest whatsoever in anything that was in front of me on my desk. All I see is her; her face when she’s being bratty now morphs into what it would look like if I put her beneath me and fuck that look right out of her.
Most of my wayward thoughts these days seem to end up in the same place. With her under me, over me, bent over in front of me, it doesn’t matter the position; they all have the same goal. Her stuffed full of my cock.