Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
He’d sent the same angle as I’d sent him.
Just enough of his chest showed to make lust fist in my stomach. It overflowed like the rush of hot lava where it tingled my thighs and pulsed my center.
My teeth clenched, my eyes devouring every inch. There wasn’t enough light to make out the obscured tattoos that covered him whole, though I could tell the images were as mysterious as the man. Certainly drawn by the same artist who’d painted the pictures on his walls.
A dichotomy of demonic and angelic.
A war of dark and light.
A clash of evil and hope.
A fresh rush of desire streaked through my veins when another text buzzed through.
Jud: What I wouldn’t do to that tight little body…
And that was it, all I could take. I was on my feet and tiptoeing to that little bathroom. I shut the door and locked it behind me. Gasping, I leaned against the wood.
Darius was right.
I didn’t have enough privacy.
Not when I was feeling things I hadn’t felt in four long years.
Well, probably in ever.
It was something the trauma had turned sour, ugly and vile, that now boiled like bliss in my blood.
I set the phone on the counter and pressed my hands on either side of it, dropped my head as I tried to get a cleansing breath.
But I might as well have been breathing him in with the way I was assaulted with the memory of the man.
His aura filled my senses.
Citrus and cinnamon and spice.
I raised my gaze and saw my reflection through the shadows in the mirror. The room dark except for the nightlight plugged into the wall to the side of the sink.
My pupils were wide, my skin flushed, my tongue dried.
I wavered, teetered, torn between refusing the visions and giving into the fantasy.
To this feeling that lapped and burned and begged.
I spread my hand over my trembling belly, no longer recognizing myself.
Jud had ignited something long gone.
Flames and sparks and fire.
I should run from them. Fear them.
I slipped lower, whimpering when my hand slid beneath my underwear, where I found myself wet and throbbing. My fingertips brushed over my clit.
That fire spread.
I bit my lip to suppress a moan, and I squeezed my eyes closed and welcomed the visions of the man.
His scent.
His eyes.
That body.
That mouth.
I pretended it was him kneeling in front of me when I pressed my fingers into my pussy. Pretended it was his tongue that stroked. His mouth that whispered and sent my entire body quaking in ecstasy.
I gasped as I came, shocked, stunned, the ground slipping out from under me.
My eyes flew open when my phone buzzed on the counter and another message blipped through.
Jud: You touching yourself, Sweet Enchantress? Because you can be sure that I am.
SEVEN
SALEM
THIRTEEN YEARS OLD
“Oh my god, Salem, he is the hottest ever.” Talia whispered the scandal as she hugged the heart-shaped pink pillow to her chest. Salem and her best friend sat facing each other with their legs crisscrossed on Salem’s bed, their voices hushed, the hour late.
Scandalous, was right.
Furtively, Salem’s gaze darted toward her closed door as if he might be right there with his ear pressed to her door, listening to their conversation.
Salem’s heart thudded at the idea, and her stomach tangled in a knot. She couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way.
“Shh.” Salem leaned forward with the secret. “Someone’s gonna hear you. They’re right in the next room.”
About twenty minutes ago, Darius had stumbled in after a party with his friend Carlo.
Talia grinned and widened her eyes. “Um, hello. That’s the goal.”
Salem poked Talia’s knee, her words held low as they squeezed from between her lips. “He is way too old for you…and he’s my brother’s best friend.”
“Even better. Older men are more experienced.”
Salem’s nose curled. “Gross. And he’s…”
She didn’t know how to frame the words. The unsettled feeling that swept through her each time Carlo was around.
“A Greek God? An Italian Adonis? Do you need me to go on?”
Salem rolled her eyes. “That was sufficient, thank you.”
Giggling, Talia scooted off the edge of the bed and shimmied over to the dressing table mirror, checking herself out as she swept a tube of shimmery gloss over her lips. She smacked them before she looked at Salem from over her shoulder. “And who cares how old he is. I mean, I look way older, don’t I?”
Through the dim twinkle lights strung along the edges of Salem’s ceiling, she nodded. They both did.
But Salem knew better. For years, Darius had chased her off, warning her to stay away from him and his friends.
She knew better than letting her thoughts traipse that direction.
Not that she wanted them to go there, anyway.
Right?
Deep laughter echoed through the walls.
Her stomach did that tilting thing again.
Talia held a squeal and beelined back to her, jumping onto her bed and landing on her knees. “Did you hear that? Even his laugh is hot.” Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head before she flopped dramatically onto her back. “Too bad he’s already in love with you.”