Forever and Always

Forever and Always

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación jue, ago 27, 2015
"You can't just expect me to say yes!" Feeling tears burning behind my eyes, I swallowed thickly before continuing. "For years, you were horrible to me and now...nothing has really changed. If this is just a dare or a bet, please just tell me and I won't be angry but you can't just..." "It's not! I'm not joking and this is not a bet. How can you even think that? I know I've made mistakes but that was months ago!" Stepping closer, his spicy scent invaded my senses, making my knees weak as I struggled to hold my composure. "I...I need space and time...to think. Um...I have to go." Hastily, I scambled away before I did something stupid. Keeping my head down, I scurried across the parking lot to my car. I quickly glanced behind me and immediately wished I didn't. He was staring at me with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. I had to force my legs to keep moving before my resolve crumbled and I went running back to him. Putting the gear into drive, I squealed out of the parking lot, eager to get home and cry in a corner. Kaleb Vergosa is a typical good looking bad boy type. Maddelyn Smith is a typical over achiever goody two shoes. Or so we thought. Turns out that both Kaleb and Maddie have a past. A past that haunts them. A past that dictates their future. What happens when they accidentally uncover each other's secrets. Will their friendship and love be enough to get past the obstacles that threaten their futures? --------------------------------- Work in progress but updates are quick. Please give my story a chance. Vote and leave a comment. Happy reading!
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A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.

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