Her Cruel Bodyguard (CHAINS OF DESIRE #3) by Faye Pierce EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Faye Pierce
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.6 MB
- Price: Free
FABIO
“Are you drunk, Eva?”
“Would that make my request viable?”
I have had my few moments of idiocy here and there, but that particular one
haunts me to this day. It inhabits my sleep and crawls under my skin when I
am wide awake.
Like a fucking blood-hungry predator, its talons dig mindlessly, close to
ripping away every shred of sanity I have left. It also doesn’t help that I
have to see my tormentor every day, since, much like oxygen, she is
unavoidable.
It hurts to be around her, yet there is no greater pain than not being around
her.
“Eva, I am not kissing you.”
“But you want to. I know you do.”
Her words were the beginning of my downfall. Because I did fucking want
to. But limiting myself to just wanting to would have been better.
Because then, I could have just lived with wanting to kiss a girl that I had
watched grow into a woman. Not that this would have made me feel any
less guilty. But wanting to kiss her would have been better than what I did
next.
I kissed her.
She was eighteen. Yet, my desire for her was unbearable. Like a dog with a
bone, I jumped at the slightest opportunity to taste her. One fucking kiss and
here I am years later, unable to fill up the indentation of that moment.
I clear my throat as I glimpse her off in the distance, her camera around her
neck and her thick glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her pitch-black
hair twisted to resemble a doughnut on her head, her baggy black cargo
pants, and her strappy lemon-green crop top.
I occupy my mind with the task of adjusting my suit as each of her steps
brings her closer to me. Perhaps I am nervous. An emotion that only Eva
has been capable of evoking in me without even trying.
I struggle not to fidget and scowl while glancing at the vibrant yellow
garden around her studio. It stands in stark contrast to the impending
darkness I feel within. Just like she is a contrast to that part of me.
She is pure. Something about her always makes the world feel a lot better,
the damn sun shine brighter, and even the fucking wind feel more soothing
on the skin.
An angel. My angel… No, no, she is just an angel. Not mine. So innocent,
but yet so devious. An innocent sinner. She reminds me of Eden, of
Paradise, but I am afraid I am already a man doomed for hell.
This will be harder than I had envisioned. It’s meant to be a talk. A quick
talk.
“You look like you will hate this session,” her voice is like a soothing balm,
her smile like toppings on ice cream, “You didn’t have to agree to it,” she
stops before me. So dainty and crushable that I want to wrap a fragile label
all over her.
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