Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
At first, I was just afraid that they would know that I’m unnaturally fascinated by the hotness of the Cowen Clan brothers, that they’d know I’m bloody well infatuated. It’s like writing fan fiction and then the subject of your fantasies on paper reads them. No, no, no.
But as time went on, I really became concerned for my safety. I never knew the Cowen brothers would actually take me seriously… I mean, take the books seriously. It's fiction. It's not real. No woman wants to be manhandled the way the guys in these books…
Sigh. Okay, strike that.
I absolutely would want to be manhandled the way the guys in my books treat my women. I fantasize about losing complete control. I dream about being overpowered by a strong, authoritative figure… Someone just like Tate. But I well know the line between fantasy and reality.
I don't know if my mates would ever understand it. I don't think they'd understand what I do at all, what attracts me to their brothers. Mac and Leith are married men, and I thought knowing that would make me less attracted to the Cowen Clan, but… now I’ve just concentrated my infatuation on Tate. And now that I see how the others treat their wives, my heart longs for something Just. Like. That.
I mean, Tate’s still single. And it's natural to want to be dominated by a hot guy… Right?
I remember the day that my crush on Tate began.
I was with Islan and Paisley, and we were doing something ridiculously stupid. I was the first one to tempt Paisley to nick the chocolate bar from the shop in Inverness Centre.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I was fourteen years old. Left to my own devices, unlike my friends who were always being watched, who had a list of rules as long as my arm. They always had things like bodyguards, if their brothers didn’t go with them. It was stifling as fuck.
And yet I was jealous. I wouldn't admit it to them. I wouldn't even admit it to me. I mean what kind of crazy person is jealous of having rules and structure and not being able to wipe your own arse without someone watching you?
Except, it totally was me.
My mum was never home at night. She had boyfriend after boyfriend who she seduced so they’d pay our rent. I had no respect for her… still don’t.
I went to school when I felt like it, did what I wanted, came home when I wanted to. I had total freedom. It’s what every teen wants, right? No structure, no accountability, and I thought I liked it that way.
Some people are never satisfied with what they have, though. And humans are naturally drawn to structure and routine.
Paisley is my age, and Islan a little older, but we still all became fast friends. They complained to me about their family rules. At first, I didn’t really understand why their family was so strict. But over time, it became clear. I heard things here and there, in whispers and hints.
I just knew they were fun to be with, and funny as hell. I like being around them, and I never felt like I had to put on a front or be someone other than who I was. I was… just me. And they liked me that way. Hell, they still do.
But they were good girls. They followed the rules. The teachers liked them, though I realize now that they probably didn't have much of a choice. They were treated almost like royalty.
And even though I didn't know who they were at first, I knew that something was different.
For one, I knew that they were wealthy. Like, really fucking rich.
For another, no one really knew where they lived.
And no one… I mean no one, had to go around with bloody bodyguards just for a trip to the shops in Inverness Centre.
I wanted to be their friend, so I played by the rules, too, when we were together.
But I liked breaking the rules. It’s a sort of game, I think, to see how far you can go when breaking rules. There’s a certain adrenaline rush, even.
It’d been a while since I’d gotten into any trouble or even come close, and I missed the spark of excitement that came with defiance. So I talked Paisley into nicking the chocolate. Just a wee bit of chocolate, I said.
She had plenty of pocket money. They both did. I didn't have any, but that didn't matter. They were always generous with what they had.
I just wanted to see if she’d do it.
So I talked her into it, mostly by telling her I didn't believe she could. At first, neither one of them wanted to go along with it. And I didn’t really blame them. I had nothing to lose, but they had everything, including solid reputations and their family’s stern disapproval.