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—a handful of moments & blush-worthy comments ;) 🔥
♫ We've been waiting on this moment for so long You wanna be reckless, restless, right until tomorrow Wait ♪ (Maroon 5—Lips on you)
I am so screwed.
Waking entangled in Ryan's arms, in Ryan's bed, and in Ryan's apartment, didn't deter Coralie from thinking of anything other than Ryan. And specifically; from thinking of Chester.
She'd escaped the rooftop bar in time to preserve herself from engaging in a conversation she didn't want to have... and yet she replayed the evening in her mind as if she'd stayed, as if she'd made plans with Chester. She replayed the evening as if she wasn't already wrapped up in a relationship and an affair, and had the liberty to enter whatever new liaisons she wanted. And this liaison... oh, she wanted it. She hated that she did, but the desire was there.
A threesome. And it offered an opportunity to fix the one she'd had in the past, to re-do it with more coordination and less fumbling, to make it more memorable. And who better to have such an illicit adventure with than the man who had no attachments, no jealousy issues, not a care in the world?
Chester was wild, and his proposal had reanimated the wild sides of Coralie, including the attraction she'd always had towards him. In those years, she'd never needed to hide it. He'd indulged in her admiration, basked in it, loved it. But now, she had to keep such feelings to herself. Now, she wasn't allowed to exude that nature—that hungry, uncaring, do-whatever-you-want demeanor that she'd adopted in her party days. Because these were no longer her party days—she was a grown-up with big responsibilities. She had serious things at stake; a career, a relationship, another relationship, and of course, her own sanity.
But said sanity had slid halfway out her body as she'd climbed into Ryan's car that night and let him squeeze her thigh. She'd changed out of her dress and wiped her face clean of all makeup seconds after she'd made it home, and did her best to look tired, as if she'd been fighting to sleep. He'd believed it—or if he hadn't, he didn't mention it—and devoured her whole with his gaze whenever they were at a stop-light, and when he parked in his spot.
But in his apartment, while he'd undressed her, she'd imagined someone else removing her leggings and sweatshirt. While he'd traced timid kisses along her jawline, she'd envisioned someone else pressing their lips to her skin. And while he'd entered her, thrusting, filling her, pleasing her, she'd pictured someone else's member inside her instead. Someone whose naked body was still a bit blurry to her, and yet who she seemed to feel as if their last tirade together had been hours ago.
She left Ryan's place quickly the next day, unable to look into his eyes without experiencing guilt. Never, since they'd started sleeping together, had she thought of someone else while they had sex. Not enough to mess with her brain... not like that night. She'd never needed to envision anyone else; he always fulfilled her every want and left her panting, pleading for more. So why, why couldn't she quit seeing Chester instead of him? And why not Michael, the man she was actually dating?
