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—some mild mentions of *things* throughout the chapter 🔥
♫ Can't get my mind off you I think I might be obsessed The very thought of you Makes me want to get undressed ♪ (Toni Braxton—You're makin' me high)
The candy-red V-neck dress clung to Coralie's figure in ways none of her own dresses did. She was still shocked it fit her, as Delilah was a size smaller than her. But it hugged her curves and rode up her thighs and molded over her ass so well that Delilah had lost her breath and words when she'd tried it on. That was a feat.
As she slipped on her favorite pair of black platform pumps, Coralie received a text from Ryan.
RyRy: I realize you may still need space, but I was hoping we could have dinner? Talk? Watch a movie? You want time, but I want you.
It was selfish of him, but that no longer fazed her. Ryan wanted what Ryan wanted, and he wanted it now.
She texted him that she was tired, and yes, she still needed time; to which he replied with a sad face and an I hope to see you soon, Cora.
"You should tell him," said Delilah, as she guided Coralie to the door, throwing a black cardigan at her. The outfit was long-sleeved, but one couldn't know if the rooftop bar was open air or closed. It would be chilly at this hour—nine pm—and Coralie was grateful Delilah looked out for her... despite being tipsy off her three cups of wine.
"That I'm going out for a drink with a blast from my past?" Coralie snorted as she opened the door. "Like that would go down well. He's got jealous tendencies, Delilah. I'd rather not say anything."
Delilah shrugged, and yanked down her work out top as it had climbed up her middle. "Ew, like Jayden?" Coralie nodded. "Fine, then it's for the best. But let's hope Ryan didn't get that same invite for that same bar tonight, otherwise you're fucked." She giggled as she pushed the door closed, once Coralie was out in the corridor. "Have fun!"
The whole ride to the bar, Coralie gritted her teeth and abstained from biting her nails. Had she made a mistake by accepting? Would she be underdressed? Overdressed? She'd never attended a rooftop bar in New York City before, and Chester claimed this one was fancy. Would she clash with the other guests? Would she blend in, as if she belonged there?
She knew she should have been getting used to such settings, as she'd be going to big parties like this one in the future, if her career took off. The label had warned her of luxury clubs they wanted her to sing at, and that the dress-code was strict, even for performers. Glancing into her lap, and at the outfit's hem that rested an inch above her knee, she chewed on her lower lip.
Can I do this?
A few seconds later, she groaned, thankful the lip-stain she'd worn was super-glued to her lips—Delilah had promised it was top-notch and wouldn't come off under any circumstances. Her wink as she'd said it still haunted Coralie's thoughts as she exited the car and entered the high-rise building atop which she was to meet Chester.
