Slack. Distended. Mouth gaping. Eyes open, but empty and sad.
I blink, and suddenly it’s not just a head. Not just a dead person.
I recognize his nose. The shape of his eyes.
A gasp rattles in my throat. I wrench the phone from Gideon’s hand and stare at it with bug eyes.
Peter Monroe.
“How…”
Gentle fingers take the phone out of my hand. Gideon grabs my chin and tips my head up. Then he strokes the side of my face, his knuckles drawing warm tingles over my skin.
“He suffered for hours.” Gideon puts his mouth by my ear. “Not nearly as long as he made you suffer, but my time with him was limited.” He kisses my neck, his voice still managing to reach me over the roar of blood in my ears.
“Seven hours for seven days, my girl.” Another kiss, this one even softer than the last.
Questions flood my mind. How did he know about Peter Monroe? How did he find him? Why would he—
“I love you, Charlotte Ash.” Gideon draws back, cups my face in his hands. “And in time, you’ll come to love me too.”
We stare at each other as the rain drums down around us. I feel weightless and so heavy at the same time. Clear-headed, but foggy. I have no words for what Gideon did for me.
It’s criminal. Psychotic. And so fucking heroic, my chest is too tight to breathe.
I dart forward, grabbing him up in a fierce hug. “Thank you,” I mumble against his damp jacket. He slides his arms around my shoulders, hugging me back just as hard.
“My pleasure,” he says, stroking my head. “Now how about we get you someplace dry?”
I nod, but it’s impossible to let go of him. Where my head is, I can hear his heart beating.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
And I know, somehow, that it beats for me.
Me…and only me.
The End
Want more of Charlotte and Gideon? Click the link below to preorder your copy of Under Fyre, book two in the Fyre & Ashes series.
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Limerence
Alice La Roux
"Shame is the lie someone told you about yourself."
Anais Nin.
Chapter One
Carter
“Mmmm, yeah, like this?” Ruby moans, sliding two fingers into herself.
I feel my jaw clenching as I drink in the sight of her, kneeling back on the bed in a ruffled maid’s outfit, skirt pushed up around her waist. The lacing at the top of the cheap satin fabric has been undone, and she practically spills out of the costume every time she moves, creamy skin shining under the lights.
I lift my hand and signal to her that there are only three minutes left, to which she moans and cups her breast with her free hand, kneading as she moves her fingers faster.
Rocking from one foot to the other, I’m mesmerised as she starts to come, her orgasm written clearly on her face. Ruby is unique, the fantasy she sells is almost too good to be true, with her hourglass figure and bright cherry lips. But she’s real. A real beauty, and the gold mask and black wig she wears does nothing to detract that.
The guttural groan that’s pulled from her lips makes my dick twitch, and I curse silently. I’m hard, which isn’t unusual, but it’s getting harder to hold back. I want to touch her. To taste her. To hear her moaning my name in that breathy voice of hers. To watch her burst open at the seams under me.
Raising my hand again, I let her know that there’s only one minute left, to which she smiles seductively. Leaning forward so the top of her rosy nipples are on display, she purrs, “If you enjoyed the show, don’t forget to subscribe.”
She blows a kiss and winks, and it’s like a jolt to my chest. With that, I reach across and turn off the live stream. A quick glance over at the laptop reveals that this was one of her most popular broadcasts yet, with lots of comments and hearts. For some reason, the tamer shows seem to bring in more viewers. They like to be teased, seduced. They’re obsessed with her. Like I am.
“Carter, how’d we do?” she asks as she shuffles off the bed and pulls off her maid’s outfit, tossing it on the bed.
“You received over 1,000 comments, and you made a small fortune, as per usual.” Each heart she receives is a donation, of varying amounts from the people watching.
“Show me the money, baby,” she laughs as she rips the cheap wig from her head, revealing beautiful honey-blonde hair. After pulling on a pair of joggers and a T-shirt, she heads over to the bathroom, where she pops out her brown contact lenses.
“I still don’t understand why you go to such lengths…” I comment as I begin to pack up the camera. Her blue eyes are gorgeous, and the blonde bombshell look would get her more attention—and in turn more money.
Sighing, she crosses her arms and gives me a look. “Because I’m in college. And university boys are dicks. Could you ever imagine if they found out what I do? How I fund my degree?”
She seems uneasy talking about school and how she covers her fees, so I don’t bring it up often. Pushing my glasses back up my nose, I return her expression. “There’s nothing wrong with sex work.”
I’d been working for DIX Entertainment for three years now, and the pay was great. Steady. I’d been a photographer before...I was still a photographer, but this was regular paid work. And once the initial thrill wore off, you realised that sex was sex. A body was a body, and nothing fazed me anymore, that was until I met Ruby.
She’s crouched down, lacing her sneakers now, which means she’ll be gone soon, but I’m not ready for that. I want her to stay. I never want her to leave.
“No, there isn’t. But I don’t want to do this forever, and would you trust a doctor who used to masturbate on camera for
