In the aftermath of her twin sister's tragic death, Reagan Sinclair finds herself in a never-ending battle against paralyzing panic attacks and drowning in grief. Desperate to just survive each day, Reagan's world is turned upside down when Paris un...
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I'M SITTING ON THE steps of NYU, tapping my foot against the pavement and nervously rubbing my thumb and pointer finger together as I wait for Paris to show up. The cool breeze rustling through my hair offers a brief distraction from my mounting anxiety, though it does little to calm my racing thoughts. I've never been to a place like Sanctum before, and although I was pretty adamant about Paris taking me earlier, honestly, I have no idea what to expect. My heart is pounding in my chest and there's a mix of nervous excitement swirling in my stomach. My thoughts are a whirlwind of questions like; What will the club look like? Who are the kind of people that frequent a place like that? And more pressingly, Whether or not I'll be able to handle whatever happens inside. Surprisingly the unknown is both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
My heart skips a beat when his car pulls up with the windows rolled all the way down. I can see that his dark hair is tousled in a way that makes my pulse quicken and there's a flutter of butterflies in my stomach as I walk up to the car. "Hi," I say when I'm inside, trying to sound like my nerves aren't in overdrive. I can feel his presence next to me, his warmth seeping into my skin as I settle into my seat. Both sleeves of his white shirt are rolled halfway up his forearms, exposing the tattoos inked into his skin and his muscles clenches as he drives. I try not to squirm.
"How was your day, Princess?" he asks, his voice smooth.
"Uneventful," which really means I thought about what he did to me in his bed and then again in his office and I barely had half a mind to get anything done while I walked around campus with the equivalent of a boner. "How was your day?"
"Well, I ate my girlfriend's pussy before I went to work and then once again at work. I can't complain," I hide my flaming face in my hands and groan.
"You're despicable,"
"I'm just being honest, baby," he says, and the smile on his face is near devious. "I did some shopping too," he motions to the pink and purple Victoria Secret shopping bag sitting in the back seat that I didn't notice before and my heart kicks up an unsteady rhythm as I reach for it.
"What is it?" I ask, stealing a glance at Paris whose gaze is now completely focused on the road. He doesn't answer me so I dig into the bag and pull out a sheer black baby doll dress, along with its matching underwear tucked inside. "Did you buy this?" I manage to ask, even with my face flaming red.
"Yes,"
"No, I mean did you walk into Victoria Secret, stand in a lingerie aisle, and choose this for me? "
"Yes baby, I even asked an employee if I could get it in a smaller size. Is there a problem?" I look down at the tag and just like he said, it's exactly my size. Something bubbles in my chest that feels a lot like love- a feeling so raw and tender, yet undeniable in its intensity. I have to clear my throat a few times before I can speak.
