Story cover for Unseen by BellaRosa69
Unseen
  • WpView
    Reads 188
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    Votes 3
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    Parts 13
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
  • WpView
    Reads 188
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 13
  • WpHistory
    Time 49m
Ongoing, First published Mar 11, 2021
Grace Thompson has had her life turned upside down in a blink of an eye. That morning started out like any other morning, her mom once again getting on her case about school and her failing grades. "I hate you" being the last words she uttered before her moms car was hit. 

The impact knocking Grace out and killing her mom instantly. No time for good byes or apologies. Her life as she knew it, and the one person she loved most now gone, and with that; so was her eyesight. Darkness now a part of her and the unseen a mystery she will never be able to shake.

Ten years later Grace makes her way into the workforce and still has a lot to prove as she faces new challenges and the unexpected feelings she seems to be developing for her boss, Maxwell Parker, that she must fight at all cost. Can she, or will she give into the desires she so desperately wants to relinquish?
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GRAY'S GRACE

8 parts Ongoing

"I didn't realize you were keeping count." "You make it hard not to." He didn't miss a beat. She finally looked up at him then, for a split second, before turning back to the work at hand. "You make it seem like it bothers you." He took a slow step forward. Then another. The passing wood creaked beneath his polished black shoes- not from weight, but rather, intention. And when he did reach her, the air changed. Thickened. He didn't say a word. Just crouched, until their faces were level. His eyes raked over her- slow, invasive, wicked. He reached out, fingers catching her chin in a motion neither tender nor tedious- just possessive in its certainty. Like she was his to tilt- nothing more than something placed where he wanted it. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away, yet her spine straightened- a quiet rebellion he didn't miss. His thumb skimmed the edge of her jaw, tracing the line of it, the motion maddeningly slow. "You should know by now," he murmured, voice lower than before- rough silk, meant for her alone, "I don't waste my time on things," a pause, "not unless they crawl under my skin." He leaned closer, so close the scent of rain on wool and expensive cologne curled around her. "And you, Adair..." His tone sharpened. One breath more and those lips would certainly brush the shell of her ear. "You don't just crawl... no." A pause- sharp, surgical. "You spread, like a fucking disease." --Gray's Grace is a haunting tale of love caught in the gray - where nothing is certain, and everything is at risk.--