Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I wait for him to keep talking, still barely breathing, but nothing comes.
So I wait some more.
And more…
I peek at him, and huge fucking mistake.
His face is so close to mine, I feel his steady breath on my skin. His eyes are closed, long lashes fluttering against his smudged cheeks.
It’s so unlike him to be so unclean, but I messed him up with my blood, the dirt, everything.
My finger reaches for his face, wanting to…what? Wipe the grime? Push away that sole strand of hair that hangs close to his face?
I pause, my finger twitching.
I swallow thickly, but it gets trapped in my throat, because, fucking hell, he’s so beautiful.
That’s what I’ve been thinking since the fight this morning.
Maybe even for a while before that.
I kept thinking that he looks so fucking handsome that I want to sink my teeth into him.
And that kind of freaked me out. It’s still freaking me the fuck out because the feel of his body against mine has me buzzing in ways I can’t control.
As if it’s a hit of nicotine.
Drugs.
Every fucked-up substance on the market.
I’m feverish, so this could be a hallucination, but I simply can’t take my eyes off of him or direct these rampant thoughts away from him.
Don’t do it, Yulian.
I know. I won’t. I pacify the little surviving morsel of logic in my brain. I’m totally not going to do anything. I’m just chilling.
Yulian, this is the worst idea you’ve ever come up with, and all of your ideas are shit.
Rude, brain. Don’t go calling yourself names.
Vaughn releases a long exhale, and I close my eyes as the feel of his face on my shoulder gets warmer and warmer.
It’s the fever.
We’ll all agree to blame the fever. Got it, brain?
I move my hand that’s been suspended in the air and softly clutch his jaw, angling it slightly. I inhale sharply because the feel of his skin on mine burns. Or I’m burning up for a reason that’s entirely different from the fever.
My thumb strokes along his sharp jaw, and every rub of skin against skin, every instance of friction electrifies me.
I haven’t felt this stimulated in forever, and I’m easily stimulated.
My lips part, and I suck in a choked load of air, then stop, not daring to breathe as I lower my head. I pause for one fraction of a second, trying to find any form of reason.
But this feels like the rightest thing I’ve ever done.
And I just…go for it.
With a shaky breath, I drop my mouth to his.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
My lips are merely touching his, but it’s as if a whole explosion is taking place in my chest. A goddam epic proportion of fireworks in the form of my erratic heartbeat and buzzing ears.
No.
No.
Fuck. No.
Vaughn shifts, and I jerk my head back, feeling as if I just committed the worst sin.
I wait for him to open his eyes and call me names.
Punch me, even. I’d take it. I certainly deserve it.
But he just remains asleep.
I close my eyes and let the cold press in—everywhere except where he’s touching me.
For the first time, I think maybe I truly fucked up.
7
VAUGHN
PRESENT — AGE NINETEEN
My life is everything it should be.
Excellent grades, Ivy League college, and a future mapped out for greatness.
My parents brought up the ideal heir for their empire. A perfect blend of their genes and the most suitable candidate to take over once they decide to retire.
So now that I’m in college, I’m being handed more responsibilities to prepare me for my role.
While my friends decided to go overseas to attend a college funded by our fathers that’s situated on an island on the coast of the UK, I chose to study at Columbia University.
In order to stay close to my parents.
And to have full access to the operations side of things.
That’s it.
That’s all.
“This place looks divine.” Danika marvels at the decor of the new Italian restaurant that’s opening tonight in Manhattan.
The project was personally funded by my dad’s friend from the Luciano family, also known as the head of an infamous Italian crime family.
As Dad and Mom had other engagements, I’m attending on their behalf.
Ideally, Jeremy and Nikolai would also be here on their parents’ behalf, but they’re fucking around on the other side of the ocean in England.
Uselessly, I might add.
Yes, sometimes I feel a certain type of loneliness from being without all of them. Nikolai was the last to go to the island, so now I’m forced to attend functions like this by myself.
Well, not quite.
Danika accompanied me.
She loves all of these opulent places and the preferential treatment she gets for being on my arm.
“The food also looks fab.” She snaps a few pictures of the table.
Over the years, I’ve learned to never touch anything until she gets her fair share of pictures. I paint on an automatic smile as she takes a picture of me as well. She grins while scrolling through her phone, probably looking to see if she got decent shots.