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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🔥STEAMY ALERT—very mild, just some brief mentions 🔥
♫ All of the demons, how do you keep 'em out? All of the feelings, runnin' me 'round and 'round ♪ (Ashley Tisdale—Insomnia)
The night with Ryan was fine, though Coralie struggled to hide that she wasn't one hundred percent into it. She was distracted, re-reading Nikita's email in her head, and it fired dangerous sparks to her neurons.
How had she been so careless? How had she let her hormones control her writing?
Ryan cooked salmon and green veggies and served a delectable red vintage he'd been saving for a big occasion. Coralie wasn't sure how this night qualified as a big occasion, but she accepted the wine and enjoyed every drop. He didn't push her, as promised; in fact, he didn't bring up Michael at all. For dessert, they ate vanilla ice cream from porcelain bowls while sitting out on his massive patio, and pointed out buildings, trying to guess what types of businesses were inside. They laughed—more than they had in a long while—and she relaxed as he held her, and they watched the sun set.
But when they retired for the night, her anxiety swelled up. All the thoughts she'd shoved to the back of her mind resurfaced, banging in her skull with such fierceness that she couldn't focus on her play-time with Ryan. Every time he thrust into her, she envisioned Chester instead; every time he whispered in her ear, she heard Michael's sweet compliments. And whenever she had two seconds to breathe, she felt pangs of guilt in her gut at how she'd been neglecting her dream job.
"You okay?" Ryan lounged beside her as he removed the condom. He tossed it into the trash to his right, then turned to her.
She couldn't look at him. Several times that night, she'd taken in his godly appearance, his well-formed abdominal muscles, the fancy tattoos trailing down his bulky arms... and cringed. In her mind, he morphed into Chester. Chester... and his svelte silhouette. His flatter but firm chest. And the thin hairs tracing down his lower half and surrounding his cock with a short forest of dark blond. He'd smirk at her, grab his penis and start stroking it, while licking his lips as he whispered, "I've got more plans for us."
"Yeah, I'm okay." She grabbed the glass of water on her nightstand and guzzled it all down. When a drop drizzled down her chin, she shivered, imagining the trickling water as Chester's fingertips. Why couldn't she get him out of her mind? What had he done to her? Poison? Mind-warping? Magic? "Stressed from work. They weren't too pleased with my most recent submissions, and I spent all day browsing through my old stuff, fixing it to their taste."
"Ah." Ryan rubbed her forearm affectionately; a gesture that would usually prompt her to gaze at him and reach over to kiss him... which would jumpstart another round of sex. "That explains your distraction. Don't let it get to you, all right? You're talented, they know that, and they won't fire you because of a few songs they didn't care for."
