Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
I sip my scotch, well well….
“You coming to bed?” Hermione asks from the hall.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I reply without looking up.
“Okay.”
I wait for her to leave and then click on images.
A gallery of photographs appears of the enchanting Miss Doe and I click on them all one by one. Long dark hair, perfect posture, the most perfect face, and a beautiful smile.
Angelic.
I get a flashback of her on her knees in front of me, her eyeliner smudged from near choking. Her lips red raw…her big eyes pleading for me to go easy on her.
My cock twinges with excitement and I smile and sip my scotch.
Found you.
ALORA
The clock ticks over as I watch Pascal’s back, he’s lying on his side turned away from me and has said all of three words since the auction. “You okay?” I ask softly.
“Just tired.”
Although he hasn’t said anything, its crystal clear that he’s upset about Edward.
Well get in line, motherfucker, because that makes two of us.
I close my eyes and I feel Edward’s hand on my cheek, I feel his lips against mine and my heart free-falling from my chest. Every emotion in technicolor perfection.
The way he looked at me, the fire behind his kiss.
Sadness fills me at the realization that I don’t know if I feel like that with anyone else.
Not even the man that I love, and how is that fair?
Why would I be reminded of an attraction so substantial in my life that it changed my DNA. What kind of person am I…feeling like that about another man when I’m with someone so wonderful?
The lump in my throat hurts and the salty hot tears run down my face and drip into my ears.
In the darkness, beside him, I cry alone.
The bed dips as Pascal climbs out and I inhale deeply with my eyes still closed.
Hell, what a night. I feel like I haven’t slept at all.
He pulls his pants on at the end of the bed and I lean up onto my elbows. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go.”
“Where to?”
“Work.”
“It’s Sunday.” I frown. “I thought we were going out for breakfast this morning?”
“Sorry, something’s come up.” He leans down and kisses me quickly. “Call you later.” But before I even have a chance to reply, he’s disappeared down the stairs and gone. I hear the door click as he leaves.
I flop back down and put my hands over my eyes. “Shit.” Guilt is the worst feeling in the world. Pascal knows we kissed; he has to. That’s the only logical explanation for the way he’s acting.
Why did I fucking kiss him, this is not who I am.
My god.
I stare up at the ceiling for a long time, my body too tired to get up and my mind too panicked to sleep.
Forget it.
Forget everything about Edward Prescott, nothing good can come of thinking about him.
Finally I drag myself to the shower. If I’m not going to sleep or relax I may as well make use of myself and go grocery shopping.
I make my bed as I talk out loud to myself, “It’s fine…this whole situation is fine, it’s just a speed bump. It was a shock to see him, that’s all. I was surprised and overwhelmed and it will never happen again. I have a wonderful life and a beautiful boyfriend.” I punch the cushions on my bed to get them in the right shape. I punch them again for good measure.
“Everything is going to be just fine.”
When someone else lies to you, you get angry, but when you lie to yourself you’re actually just an idiot.
It’s 4 p.m. and I haven’t heard from Pascal all day, which is weird…actually, not weird, it’s a disaster, because he calls me and tells me every little detail of his day all of the time. The fact that it’s Sunday, which is our day together, only confirms what I suspect.
He knows, and I’m totally fucking screwed.
A whorebag of epic proportions and to make matters worse all I can do is think about Edward fucking Prescott, it’s taken every ounce of my strength not to google him today. But all that’s going to prove is that I’m an actual asshole.
I dial Pascal’s number. Ring, ring…ring, ring.
“Bonjour,” he answers.
My heart sinks, he had his phone on him but didn’t call me. “Hi. Where are you?”
“Just leaving work now.”
“Are you coming over?”
He exhales. “Ummm.”
“Do you want to go out for dinner.” I cut him off. “I think we need to talk.”
“We do, that’s a good idea.”
My eyes widen, oh my god…he does know.
“Okay,” I reply. “Will you pick me up?”
“About seven.”
“See you then.”
“Yep.” He hangs up without saying another word.
Without a thought, I do what I said I wasn’t going to do. I google:
Who is Edward Prescott?
Viscount Edward Prescott is the CEO of Prescott Holdings with an estimated personal worth of 32 billion dollars. The heir to the largest portfolio of casinos in the world.