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)
“Alora. Stop,” he demands.
I stop on the spot as I face the door, my breath hitching as I try to gain some much-needed control over my traitorous body.
“Let me walk you out,” he says calmly from behind.
I nod and he walks past me and opens the door. The security are waiting on the end of the gangplank. “Give us a moment please,” he says as we walk past them and they stay where they are.
We walk in silence back to the Bentley and he opens the back door and I pause before I get in. “When?”
His eyes hold mine.
“When was the last time you used me as a surefire?”
“Yesterday.” His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he stares at me. “I fucked your mouth and I blew so fucking hard.”
I audibly gasp, my heart races.
He leans in and puts his mouth to my ear. “Then I needed more, so I fucked your ass.” His breath on my ear sends shivers up my spine. “And you loved every fucking inch of it.”
I get a vision of him pulling himself as he pictured us together, the image heats my blood to boiling point. I pull away from him, my scared eyes search his. The hold this man has over me is terrifying.
“Goodbye, Edward.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face. “Goodbye, Alora.”
I get into the car and he closes the door, and then as if nothing happened he casually turns and walks back to his yacht. I slump back into the seat as if I have just run a marathon.
Dear God.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALORA
My moral compass has always been a shining light, my ethical standards a cut above the rest. My standards are high, my love is true and I’ve judged people for less.
What a joke, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
I’m definitely not the girl I was this time last week. Last Friday night Pascal and I went to the movies and laughed and ate at our favorite restaurant and everything was normal and controlled and in order as it should be.
This week, I’m on a plane to New York, alone. Carrying an extra-large suitcase of guilt.
Since Mr. Prescott came back I’ve lied to Pascal, I lied to my friends, I kissed another man, and today without telling a soul where I was, I went to his yacht. Stood in his bedroom and nearly did something that I would never forgive myself for.
This is toxic.
I cannot and I will not become someone that I don’t recognize. Someone that I’m not proud of.
The guilt is eating me alive.
I’m blocking Edward’s number and I’m forgetting all about this stupid internship idea. Nothing good can come of me believing that Edward Prescott and I could be friends when it’s blatantly clear that we can’t.
The sexual chemistry between us is way too strong.
I will not be that nasty girl. I will respect my beautiful boyfriend and I will push down any attraction I have to Edward Prescott.
You in that spa bath was the single hottest sexual experience of my life.
Unfortunately, his admission has taken me back to a time when we were wet with perspiration, skin slapping and the moans…god, the moans. Over and over and over again until I can’t take it anymore and I drag open my tear-filled eyes.
What the hell am I going to do?
“River Sorenson,” the dean calls out.
A huge smile covers my face as Dad, Raylyn and I clap ferociously as we watch our beloved brother and son walk up onto the stage. Looking every bit the medical school graduate that he now is, he accepts his honor and turns and smiles over at us.
A knife runs straight through my heart and my eyes fill with tears; I quickly try to wipe them away before anyone sees.
Mom should be here to see this.
I know she would have given anything to be here to celebrate this day. I glance over to see Dad wiping his eyes too and I know he’s having the exact same thought as I am. I put my arm around him and kiss his cheek and he puts his hand over mine as we smile up at River through our tears.
We don’t talk about Mom all that often, simply because it hurts too much and nobody wants to upset anyone. But some days the emptiness she left is so chasmic that no pretending could ever fill the hole.
My nostrils flare as River’s silhouette blurs. I really need to talk to you today, Mom.
So you could tell me that I’m not a bad person, that everything’s going to be alright.
I’ve hardly slept since Friday, I feel like I’m on the precipice of a monumental life-changing mistake, one that I won’t be able to come back from.
Raylyn is tougher than me, more together. She’s older and married to her high school sweetheart. She would never be tempted by the devil, and even if she were, she would never give in to it.