BOOK TWO in the STEAMY FORBIDDEN ROMANCE series -- please read BOOK ONE, Illicit, before proceeding with this novel!
Coralie Watson, now living in NYC to focus on her singer/songwriter career, has landed herself in quite the predicament. Stuck in a...
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♫ I get all my pleasure in your bedroom, in your arms You get all your pleasure from my torture, from my harm ♪ (Christina Aguilera—Masochist)
"Cora."
A soothing, velvety voice slithered into Coralie's ears. It was feminine, and it lured her out of her slumber to find Delilah shaking her awake. Her form was blurry, but she wore her habitual Sunday outfit—a one-piece pantsuit used for going to church with her family.
"Huh?" Coralie yawned as she pulled herself into a semi-seated position. "What's up?"
Delilah arched one brow as she watched Coralie come to. "I was about to head out, but... someone's here for you."
"Here... for me?" Coralie jolted to a fully upright pose. "Who? What time is it?"
All manners of morose thoughts prowled through her mind. Was it Michael, returned to NYC after discovering she'd cheated? Was it Chester, here to ravage her again and worsen her wet dreams? Or someone from the label, come to fire her because of her sexy songs she sent them yesterday, and they decided they were too explicit, too inappropriate? Or to promote her for that very reason, instead?
"It's nine," said Delilah, plucking Coralie's phone from the nightstand and chucking it at her. "And it's Ryan." She glanced at Coralie's open laptop near the wall, its light blasting over the faded white plaster. Coralie had fallen asleep while typing up lyrics and had lulled herself into a state of delusion by envisioning Chester sneaking into her bed again. "I left him at the buzzer downstairs because I wasn't sure if you wanted to see him. Do you?"
Pressing a cold hand to her heated forehead, Coralie groaned. "No. Yes. Maybe? Ugh, I have no idea." She slammed her laptop shut, in case Ryan came up. She didn't want him seeing her lyrics, typed in her WORD document, stating that Chester had inspired most of them. "Did he say what he wanted?"
Delilah straightened up and fixed the creases in her suit. "I didn't ask. You know I dislike him, so I was hoping you'd beg me to tell him to fuck off, or something."
Coralie narrowed her gaze. "You dislike him, but I'm still stuck in this loop with him." She stretched. "Ah, fine, maybe in person I can better explain to him that he needs to cut me some slack. He's going to implore me to break up with Michael again."
"Ha," Delilah cackled, "that I agree with him on."
"Dude." Coralie threw her covers off . "You hate Ryan, you want me to end things with Michael... so is this your way of saying I should choose Chester?"
"No." Delilah strolled out the bedroom door but paused and flipped around with a scowl. "I think you've fucked up your shot with all three, and should go back to being celibate, as you said you'd be. For a year, post-Jayden, remember?" Coralie snickered, and Delilah waved at her. "Anyway, I'm off to sit in a pew and pretend like I'm a holy person. Should I buzz him in on the way out?"
