Page 31 of Was I Ever Real

After pouring myself a nightcap, I head upstairs. At the top, Lenix’s cat comes zipping out of the shadows and I lurch out of the way, almost spilling my drink.

“Little shit, what happened to keeping it locked up?” I mutter out loud, ignoring the fact that I was startled in my own house by that feral creature. It disappears down the dark hallway and into Lenix’s bedroom.

Her door is ajar.

I know what I’d find behind it if I pushed it open. It’s proving quite easy to summon images of her naked body when I've seen it before. When I’ve touched it—fuckedit before.

It’s hard to forget.

When her soft moans were the most alluring sounds I’ve ever heard.

I still fuck my fist to the echoes of it.

She’s been harder to get out of my head than expected. Especially when her ignoring me makes me want to push her buttons even more. And me holding those papers over her head for the last two years has been entertaining—to say the least.

My hand twitches on the bannister and I realize I’ve stopped in my tracks, staring at her door like a creep.

Not that I mind the thought…

Begrudgingly, I shake myself out of it, denying myself the urge to open her door and truly bask in how much of a creep I canbe.

Christ.

All I need is one last tryst with her. To get it out of my system, so I can start focusing on something else. It’s not like I’ve been sitting around for two years just thinking about her. I have an empire to run for fuck sakes. But having her in my house is making this dormant urge burn me alive.

I’m usually not the one to deny myself of anything. If tonight is proof of anything, it’s that Lenix can be swayed. Her body still craves the pleasure it knows I can give her.

All she needs is the right temptation.

Chapter 22

I’mdriftingbackandforth somewhere between here and wherever we go when we dream. My eyes are closed, and I let out a small hum of contentment. But then my mind walks clear into the land of the living and my body jolts awake, eyelids springing open. Although a part of me knows where I am, it takes a few moments for everything to lock into place. Nestled in soft dark green bedding, my eyes bounce around the room putting all the missing pieces back into place.

Dark red velvet curtains frame the wide windows to the right of the four poster king size bed. A dark brown antique desk tucked between the two. Even from here, the drapes look expensive, and feel like they should belong in an extravagant turn of the century mansion—not in the modern era. But oddly, they don’t feel out of place, simply adding an eccentric flare to the room.

I groan into one of the many pillows strewn around my head. This bed might be the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept in. And that only adds to my frustration. I think I would rather sleep on a sad single mattress in a broom closet than this. It would pair well with my current penance.

What did I do in a past life to deserve this?

I guess that isn’t really an offhand remark and more a real question when your best friend has firsthand experience with the whole… reincarnation thing.

Does it mean we all have connections like Sunny’s? Maybe not as intense, but a connection all the same? I wonder where I’ve been, orwhoI was to have ended up here, in one of Connor’s guest bedrooms of all places, masquerading as his wife in order to evade my fervent brother and the cult I was born into.

When I lay it all out, it sounds absurd. It makes me feel far removed from myself, disconnected, like it’s impossible for all of this to be real.

Is this really my life?

Ugh.

Flinging the covers off of my body, I lay there having a small existential crisis. When my brain finally decides to unfurl itself from the fetal position, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. My satin tank top is askew from sleep and I fix it distractedly while my toes curl into the soft carpet underneath me. Ewan immediately finds his way between my legs, butting his furry head against my calf.

My gaze lands on the bedside table, another piece of furniture in this place that looks more expensive than anything I could ever afford.

Filthy rich bastard.

But then my eyes catch on my phone sitting face down on it and my heart squeezes. Nothing good can come from that screen. It’s only been two days since my altercation with Patrick. It’s just a matter of time before I hear from my brother again.

Anxiety tightens my throat, and I swallow hard. I don’t even know if me being married is going to dissuade Frederick.