Torn Read online Carian Cole (All Torn Up #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: All Torn Up Series by Carian Cole
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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My breathing speeds up as I type to her. This is like crazy fucking foreplay, and I'm hard as a rock for her. My phone is silent, but I can feel her waiting for more. Even miles away, our connection resonates between us.

I'm going to burn in hell.

Me: I'd bend you over that window sill, spread your thighs, and slide deep into you. I'd want to hear you gasp and feel your body all tight and wet around me. I'd tilt your head back and kiss you until you're delirious and can't breathe without me. I'd carry you to the bed and make love to you until you fall asleep in my arms and I'd count the minutes until I could be inside you again. I don't think I could ever get enough of you, and I'm afraid I'd love you and fuck you to the point of mental and physical exhaustion. And then I'd do it all over again until neither one of us can even consider the idea of ever not touching again.

Silence. Minutes of it.

Maybe I scared her away. Maybe she thinks I'm a pig.

I am a pig.

Kenzi: Toren. Do you mean all that?

I love when she says my name. And types it. And now I want to hear it on her lips when I'm buried inside her.

Me: Have I ever lied to you?

Kenzi: No.

Me: Sorry you asked now?

More long moments of silence torture me as I stare at the ceiling with the biggest hard-on of my life, cursing myself while I wait for the coveted sound of her text. Just hearing that small musical chime lately turns me all inside out.

Kenzi: Not at all. That was the best present ever. I'm actually shaking.

She's ruining me. I want to run my fingers over her warm quivering flesh and feel what I'm doing to her. I want it so bad I'm on the verge of jumping on my bike and riding three hours in the middle of the night just so I can do exactly that.

But I can't. Because the truth is cruel; she's still her and I'm still me, and we were never meant to be this way with each other.

Me: Ok we have to stop now. Game over.

Kenzi: :(

Me: We both know this is wrong.

Kenzi: I wish it wasn't. :(

Me: Me too, Angel. But we should go now. I have to get up early and I'm going to have a hard time falling asleep after this.

Kenzi: I will, too.

Me: Thank you for sharing your photos with me. You're beautiful. In every way.

Kenzi: Thank you for sending me yours. :-) Don't take this wrong, but you're beautiful, too. Like a dream.

Me: We'll talk again soon. I love you.

Kenzi: I love you, too. Xo

I'm pretty sure there's now a seat in hell with my name engraved on it. Sleep is impossible for me when mere inches away from my pillow is a four inch device that holds all my deepest desires, fantasies, and sins. It's way too tempting. I've tried to be strong. I've tried to keep her away and yet still hold onto our special bond, but it's all crumbling around me.

Exiling her from my life isn't an option. Not talking to her? Not seeing her? Giving up our little us-isms? No fucking way. It would be like cutting off one of my own limbs.

In the discrete darkness of my bedroom, I transfer her photos to my laptop where I can analyze every detail of her forbidden curves. Every little birthmark. Some I've actually kissed, at a time when it was simply cute and innocent between us. The playful lift of her smile and her enticing mossy-green eyes seduce me from the fifteen-inch screen. She's given me the gift of being able to ravish her with my eyes here in the privacy of my house and the chance to play out my fantasies with the help of my right hand.

Hello, Satan. I know you've been waiting patiently for me since the demise of the good and noble Uncle Tor. I have a feeling I'll be staying here a while.

19

Kenzi

Tor ~ age fifteen

Ember ~ age fourteen

Asher ~ age fifteen

Being shy sucks. It took me weeks of smiling at the new girl in our class, Ember, to work up the balls to ask her if I could walk her home after school. She's shy too, though, and now we're walking in awkward silence. I want to hold her hand, but I can't tell if she wants me to. I've got my guitar with me, slung over my back in its case since I'm playing in a school project, so I ask her if she wants to stop at the park and listen to me play. I lose myself in the music when I play, and it always calms me down, stripping me of my insecurities. One thing I know I do well is create music and write lyrics.


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