None of your business,” at the same time.
“You sound angry, Elena.” Nicolas’s voice was tainted with something dangerous. “Maybe you should cool off.”
My brows knitted. “What? No—”
I never got to finish what I had to say.
Because, with one hand on my side, Nicolas pushed me into the pool.
Bazı hikâyeler tam tahmin ettiğin gibi ilerler. Bazılarıysa son sayfada tüm bildiklerini sorgulatır. 🤯
Ters köşeleri seviyorsan, seni sonuna kadar merakta bırakacak 3 kitap önerisini keşfetmeye hazır ol!
Truthfully, I’d thought about sleeping with Adriana a complete total of zero times. All thoughts of sex had been about her sister, especially after she’d arched her ass against me yesterday in the universal way all men understood as a go-ahead.
She hadn’t been shy about letting me know she’d let me touch her, but I couldn’t help an inkling of awareness from settling in when she’d placed her hand on mine and I’d felt that ring of hers. She loved some man. Wore his cheap ring on her finger like it was a diamond.
Bitterness had run through me. She wanted to get off and she was going to use me to do it. When I realized that, I’d felt something I had never felt in my life: like I was expendable. And that pissed me off.
Nonetheless, Do you respect me? had followed me around all day and night in that soft, sweet voice of hers. Everywhere I fucking went.
There was always some vice that eventually killed a Russo.
Irrationality. Idiocy. A penchant for unprotected sex with cheap hookers. My father’s was monetary greed.
I was beginning to think mine was Elena Abelli.
I wanted to fuck her and ruin her for anyone else. I wanted to crush her wings and then put them back together again so she’d become dependent on me. I wanted her to need me. That dark, possessive, and dangerous feeling crawled through me every time she crossed my path.
Elena Abelli was my vice, and fuck if I’d let it kill me.
However, the urge to try to fuck her out of my system was consuming me, regardless if she wanted me to be someone else. It was an itch I needed to scratch. And when I was done with her, she’d never remember another.
Gianna shook her head while looking down on me, although she was a foot shorter, even in her heels. “That’s an awful idea,” she said.
“What?”
“Sleeping with Elena.”
Jesus.
Why must everything have a happily ever after? Aren’t the most memorable, poignant moments of history tragic? I had always appreciated sad endings. I was a realist, not a romantic.
"Uzun süre karanlıkta kalınca gözlerin karanlığa alışır ve önünü görürsün ama aydınlığa kavuşup yeniden karanlığa dönersen önünü göremezsin. " sn 48