Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
With that, I get up and snap off the television. These forbidden fantasies are ridiculous and lame. I’m an adult now! I should know better than to pine after a man who’s practically related to me. Yet, as I enter my room, I flop down on my bed bonelessly and stare at the ceiling. Cyrus North has been foremost in my thoughts for years now without any signs of letting up. So what do I do?
2
Josie
I turn over on my mattress with a grunt. My room is small, but I managed to fit an extra long twin-size bed into the small space. It’s got a cute gold metal frame with a vine pattern, and my dresser and mirror complement the brassy tones too. But what good is this doing me? There’s a man that I long for, and the most beautiful bedroom furniture in the world isn’t going to bring him any closer.
Angrily I tug at the comforter and wrap myself in the puffy duvet until I resemble a big burrito. The clean lavender scent soothes me a bit, but then there’s a loud chime from my phone and I jerk fully awake. Goddamnit! Who is that?
But I don’t get up. Instead, I bury my face deeper into my pillows and ignore the sound of the chime. If it’s important, then whoever it is will call if I don’t respond. Or they’ll go away, which would be even better.
My phone chimes again, but this time it isn’t one-and-done. Several more texts come through, making my phone sound like a mini alarm. The beeps refuse to stop tormenting me until I’m fully awake and going out of my mind.
Dramatically, I kick and scratch at the comforter until I’m free of the puffy blanket, and practically launch myself at the cell on my bed stand table.
“What the hell is so important?” I gripe, even though there’s no one here but me. “Who is this crazy person?”
I snatch my phone off the dresser just as it chimes again, and my blood boils with rage. Even worse, it’s my ex, Tommy. The one that Alyssa said I should ignore.
“Ugh! What’s his freaking problem?”
My eyes scan the broken sentences. Most of it is exactly what I’d expect from someone like my ex. Tommy tells me he that knows I wasn’t serious about dumping him, and that if I ask nicely he’s willing to consider taking me back. Then, that’s where normal ends because the most recent text message has me frozen with my eyes bugging out.
The text reads, I know you want me, Josie. I’ll even let you make it up to me. Just send me some nudes with your tits and twat out, and we’ll call it even.
A cry of rage and frustration escapes from my throat. What the hell? What is Tommy even thinking? Meanwhile, my thumbs fly across the screen as I text back a scornful reply.
Not happening, you pig. Don’t ever contact me again. In fact, lose my number while you’re at it.
As soon as I hit send, I pull Tommy’s name up in my contacts and block his number. There, that should do it. The last thing I want is to hear from him with whatever nonsense comeback he has in store. I can’t believe I ever dated him, much less that he just tried to start up a sext exchange. Ugh, so gross.
I climb back into my bed, this time bringing my phone with me. But sleep eludes me because thanks to my ex and his disgusting request, I’m wide awake with the blood pulsing in my veins. Blowing out air between my teeth, I begin to scroll through Instagram. I look through the feeds of my favorite book bloggers, and sure enough, the covers of a few romance novels pop up on screen. Oooh, this one looks good. It’s called Lost and Loveless, but it’s not the title that gets me. Instead, it’s the male model on the cover. He’s built like an Olympian and stares at the camera with piercing blue eyes as his black hair waves in the breeze. Okay, he’s dressed like a medieval knight, but it doesn’t matter because I’m not seeing the cover model anymore. Instead, I’m staring into the mesmerizing blue gaze of Cyrus North.
My body begins to feel hot. Tiny sparkles roll through my veins and suddenly my skin is overly sensitive. My core feels moist and an idea tickles my mind, but I pause. Am I really considering doing this?
After all, Alyssa won’t be home for hours, if she even comes home tonight. I’m completely alone, with no one to bother me, and it’s not like I’m doing something bad. Instead, I’m thinking about making a dirty video for the man in my future. He’s not exactly Cyrus, but he’s someone who looks like Cyrus. A man who would crush me to his huge form before seizing my mouth and making me swoon.