**WATTPAD HQ EDITOR'S PICK Nov/Dec 2021**
BOOK ONE in the STEAMY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE series
Coralie Watson, a British thirty-year-old living in San Francisco, has a tormented past with men. Physical and mental abuse, abandonment issues, incompatibili...
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🔥STEAMY ALERT—mildly steamy content🔥
♫ And you took the dark for granted And you love me like you promised your wife ♪ BANKS—Contaminated
"And what would you do next?" Michael's suave tone fizzled through Coralie's laptop's speakers, prompting her fingers to flicker faster between her legs.
Their bi-weekly video-chat had become heated sooner than usual, and Coralie wouldn't complain, as she had plenty of frustrations to let out.
"Um..." She considered opening her eyes and peeking at him, to watch what he was doing—what she'd asked him to do so she could pleasure herself—but she worried it would break her concentration. "Slide my... tongue... down to your..."
Michael's moan interrupted her, allowing her to resume thinking of who she, unfortunately, had been picturing since the beginning of their steamy discussion. The person with that toned tummy and that incredible new tattoo that likely snaked up his arm and wrapped around his bulging biceps. The one with lips like cotton candy, melting over hers and covering them in a sticky sweetness that made her—
"Fuck," she and Michael said, reaching their climax in unison, as they usually did.
Except today, Coralie didn't attain her peak thanks to Michael's deliciously dirty mouth; she only had thoughts for Ryan.
Ryan... goddammit.
It had been two days since she'd bumped into him, and she'd been unable to tell anyone about it—even Delilah. After the event, she'd ran off, gotten lost in the subway, then somehow made her way home with dried tears on her cheeks and a dull ache in her gut.
Ryan fucking Bennett was in New York City, and he wanted to hang out with her.
Michael had spotted her distraction when he'd called her earlier today, but he'd attributed it to stress from work.
"Want me to help you unwind?" he'd said, biting his lip, ruffling his messy mahogany mane, giving her his best smoldering look. And it was smoldering; when she lived in San Francisco, that look was all it took for her to drop her panties and summon him to her flat for a quick round of fun. Michael was fun...
But Ryan was exotic, passionate, perilous. Picturing him in that way, recalling all the daring things they'd done and all the places they'd done them in raised her temperature to insane levels. Those images made her body writhe and wriggle in impossible manners.
Since the instant their eyes had reconnected a few days prior, despite her mind screaming at her to be cautious, to run far away, all she could do was envision Ryan in her bed once more.
When Michael came up with a scenario for them—he was fantastic at setting the mood, at describing the scenery to help Coralie get excited—she'd replaced him with Ryan, in her mind.
