Game Of Love Read online Lulu Pratt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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“He said you’d been out together,” she added, glancing at me.

“Yeah, we had a drink,” I replied, turning my back as I reached for more pots.

“He seems very… preoccupied,” she smiled. “Very distracted, like there is something on his mind.”

“He’s worried about his job,” I reminded her.

“Or thinking about something else,” she suggested.

“I have no idea what is going on inside Drew’s head,” I sighed. I was tired of trying to second guess everyone, what they were thinking, what they would do next. Combined with trying to be one person at home and another at work, it was mentally exhausting. I had had a few friendly texts from Drew since our night out, but they were just that – friendly. No mention of the ‘unfinished business’ he had referred to that night. I should have been pleased – life was complicated enough. I felt slightly disappointed that he still seemed to have this inability to act. It was one of the reasons we didn’t ever really become a proper couple; he was always so chilled out about it, never willing to express how he felt or actually do anything.

“You deserve some fun, and so does he. He’s a good guy.” Beatrix interrupted my train of thought, and I looked up at her in surprise.

“You were totally against us getting together back in high school!” I reminded her.

“That was different. You were friends. I didn’t want you to ruin that. But now, you’ve both grown up a little. You have more experience.”

I winced. The experience she was referring to was my short but intense relationship with Jason. Jason was an artist. He was passionate, but mostly about himself. He was completely self-obsessed, and I had worshipped him. In fact, that was the main thing we had in common – we both loved Jason. It had ended explosively when I found out that he was sleeping with so many women that it required two phones to manage his busy schedule. I’d found the extra phone in his apartment, and he hadn’t even denied it. He couldn’t see why I wouldn’t understand that he had ‘exceptional needs.’ And yet it had never occurred to him that I might have needs too. I shook my head to get rid of the memory and continued to move around the kitchen, wiping down the surfaces and pretending I couldn’t see Beatrix leaning against the table eyeing me with suspicion.

“Has there been anyone else since Jason?” she asked, coming straight out with it as only Beatrix would.

“Nope.” I kept my tone brisk in the hope she would leave it there and not interrogate me further.

“But he was your first… proper boyfriend,” she said.

“Well, if you mean am I a virgin, then no, I am not.” I stopped and looked up at her, daring her to ask me more.

“And you never…” she searched for the right word, and I let her squirm for a moment before rescuing her.

“No, I never…. And there hasn’t been anyone since. Is there a point to this?” I gave her a small smile and watched as she got more and more uncomfortable.

“God, Freya. I’m sorry, but you need to get laid.” She looked so earnest that I had to laugh.

“Thanks for that, but I’m good.” I smiled and folded the towel in my hands, placing it neatly on the side.

“I’m serious,” she said.

“So am I!” I replied, trying my best to seem like I had it all together.

The truth was, I was incredibly embarrassed. After high school, I had met Jason and I thought he was the love of my life. My obsession with him had absorbed almost three years of my life. One of those years was before we finally got together, and one was after we had split. And in the year we were together, I had been so in love with him that I hadn’t cared that he had sex the same way he did everything else – with his own pleasure in mind. Stupidly, after a bottle of Prosecco and a weep-fest of romantic comedies, I had confessed to Beatrix that I had never managed to orgasm with Jason. Oh, I’d been close, tantalizingly close, many times, but I couldn’t quite get there. I even blushed a little remembering one time when I said I was close and he seemed to finish instantly just to spite me.

She had been astounded. Jason was so charming, so conventionally handsome, and so sensitive to everything that a woman said to him, that he had seemed to be made for giving pleasure. I regretted telling Beatrix about his weird sex rituals – always a shower together to begin with, where we would soap each other all over, then he would ask for a massage, and then he would turn out the light, roll on top of me and thrust slowly and silently until he was done about two minutes later. I guess I didn’t know any better, or if I did I was so happy that he had chosen me that it didn’t matter. What I couldn’t explain to Beatrix was that it wasn’t just not being able to come, it was about all the other things the relationship with Jason had stolen from me. My creativity and confidence, for a start.


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