• Amora, also known as The Temptress, is an internet sensation who pleases both men and women for money. After a heated night with one client, things take a wild turn when she finds him in her home.
One thing she never expected was finally facing h...
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Some memories never leave you. Like stars in the galaxy, they become a part of us, until they're forever engraved in our souls and we have no choice but to carry them. I happen to carry a lot. Some good, some bad, but the worst of them all are about Tristan.
Tristan Rhodes is everything a woman desires in a man. Strong, tall, handsome, smart, ambitious and easy to talk to with fat pockets as a bonus. Lots of woman envied me. Heck, I myself couldn't understand how I was able to snag an amazing guy like him.
But that 'amazing' guy? That's the show that he puts on. He is actually the Devil in disguise and I was unfortunate enough to be dragged down to hell with him.
My fists punch furiously at the bag as he slithers his way through my mind, opening back up memories I don't want to remember, but I don't have a choice. It's fitting, actually. I never really had a choice with Tristan.
I kick at the bag continuously, imagining it was his face I was bashing in instead. It won't take away the pain or memories but it at least helps me to cope with everything.
"What did the bag do to you?" A voice enters the room. I don't have to turn around to know who it is.
"Exist." I breathe out heavily, easing off of the bag.
Turning around, my eyes are blessed with the image of Diego wearing nothing but shorts. I manage to run my gaze over the hard ridges of his chest and the tattoos on his arms before I stop myself and turn my head away.
Jesus, is he trying to distract me?
"You're up early. Can't sleep?"
"No," I reply, rolling my neck in circles to help alleviate the stiffness.
My body tenses when I feel him come up behind me. His hands come up to my shoulders and I nearly moan when he starts massaging them.
"God," I exhale, tilting my head back in bliss. "That feels good."
He chuckles and I feel the vibrations against my back. "You need to relax."
"That bad, huh?"
"It could be worse." His hands stop massaging my shoulders, sliding down the sides slowly instead. My skin burns where he's touching me, a scorching heat that begins spreading throughout my body. My breathing intensifies when I feel his lips at top of my right ear.
I open my mouth to say something, but he pulls away abruptly and I let out a sigh of relief. Turning around, I watch as he walks towards the wall of the training room. His hand presses into the wall and I watch in amazement as a hidden shelf extends out, decorated with rows and rows of knives.
I walk towards it, marveling at the different knives on display. Diego has always been obsessed with the weapon and it's amazing to see his collection grow to this amount.
