Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set by Lola Swain, Ava Ayers

of clean spice: vetiver,
ylang-ylang and lemongrass. I brushed my lips against his earlobe and he took a
deep breath. I wanted to suck it into my mouth, I wanted to run my lips up and
down his neck, I wanted him to fuck me.
    “I married the wrong man,” I said into his ear.
    “Is that all?” James said and lowered his head.
    “So far.”
    James turned his head and our lips almost touched, but I
leaned back a bit.
    “Why did you marry him? Are you pregnant?”
    I was taken aback by his bluntness, but not so much that I
wanted to end the conversation.
    “No, definitely not pregnant. I think I just wanted the
wish of marriage to come true so badly, I forced him to fit. I ignored every
warning I had along the way just because I wouldn’t admit to being wrong about
Brandt; that’s my husband’s name…Brandt.”
    “The ego can be a pretty treacherous companion, can’t it?”
James said.
    “Yes. Mine has certainly ruined my life,” I said and
sighed.
    “You are so young, Sophia. Why did you have to marry this
man? You are a successful model. I’m sure you don’t need money or--”
    “How did you know?” I asked. “I never told you what I
did.”
    James looked down and traced circles in the sand with his
fingers.
    “I saw you, actually. In the Globe fashion section.
You modeled for Saks, right? Stunning,” he said and winked at me. “Anyway, when
I saw you in the rose garden today, I recognized you. Does that make you feel
uncomfortable?”
    “Uncomfortable? Heck no! I’m glad to know I have at least
one fan,” I said and laughed. “Or did have at least one fan--I quit.”
    “I’m sorry to hear you gave up your modeling, but I’m sure
you have many fans,” he said. “That’s why I am confused at your urgency to
marry. I’m sure you’ve had suitors and if not now, I promise, you will.”
    “Well,” I said and chewed on my fingernail, “there is more
to the story, but I don’t know if I want to tell you or not. I’m afraid what
I’ve done does not make me a very nice person.”
    “Confession is good for the soul, my child,” he said.
    James’ eyes were positively phosphorescent. I stared at
his hands, big and strong, his fingernails were meticulously manicured and
buffed to a high shine.
    “You’re not a caretaker, are you?” I said while staring at
his hands.
    “Well, I’m certainly not a priest!” he said and laughed.
“Besides, we are talking about you right now, not me. So, tell me, why did you,
a girl with certainly a lot of prospects and more than enough potential, marry
this man?”
    “Well,” I said and took a deep breath, “there is another
girl who likes him.”
    “Ah ha,” James said as if he just discovered the cure for
tuberculosis. “And your ego could not handle being shunned by another woman, is
that right?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    “No, Sophia,” James said and grabbed my hands, “own that
yes. We cannot expect to change anything if we refuse to own our shortcomings.”
    “Yes,” I repeated with a little more force.
    “No,” James said and squeezed my hands, “more!”
    “Yes!” I said.
    “Not good enough! To the fucking heavens with that yes!”
James said.
    I threw my head back and opened my mouth wide.
    “Yes!”
    “Good. And this other girl, tell me,” James said and
gripped my hands tighter, “did she have the audacity to think that she could
have this man?”
    “Yes!” I screamed at the sea.
    “And was she a lesser woman? A woman who didn’t even come
close to your beauty?”
    “Yes!”
    “And you could not allow her to have him, could you? You
could not stand the thought that this woman, this lesser woman, would win the
prize? So you did everything in your power to prevent that, didn’t you? You had
to ensure the prize would not go to her, but to you?”
    “Yes!”
    “And what did you win?” he said.
    I opened my mouth to answer and thought for a moment.
    “Not a whole fucking lot,” I said and hung my head.
    “Nope,” James