Page 61 of Dark Heart
As expected, she decries my lack of common sense and berates me for hooking up with a writer.
Luckily, after a few more hours of torment, the party draws to an end. Nick gives me a good night kiss and pulls away.
Minutes later, I scan the groups of people, searching for Jaden.
I spot him not far from me, a beautiful blonde wrapped around him like a python. His hand rests on the small of her back, almost touching her ass as she submissively tips her face up and flashes a smile, offering a sample of her cleavage.
Something rubs me the wrong way.
I empty another glass of wine before tottering on the rug of petals to the bungalow. I need a shower and some time alone to clear my head.
I shed my dress, remove my heels, and abandon them in the bedroom before strolling to the bathroom.
Moments later, I walk out, glance at the couch, and crash into the bed, butt naked.
Sprawled on my stomach, I fall asleep.
Hours later, a scent of smoke and flowers tickles my nostrils, a soft breeze rolling over my body.
Eyes closed, I run my hand over the sheets.
He’s not here.
He’s probably in one of the bungalows, fucking that woman.
To hell with him.
I shouldn’t care. Why would I care? I never gave a fuck about men fucking other women.
I never had to give a fuck. That’s the beauty of it all. Once you lose everything, you lose it all.
The good and the bad.
I lost my innocence and almost lost my mind. And I definitely lost my family. That would’ve happened anyway, I suspect. The family. Yeah... That was bound to happen.
The good thing is, I’ve been numbed for so long that I never had to care for another human being ever again.
So why the hell would I care now?
More smoke wafts through the air, prompting me to flip my eyes open.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, bolting upright.
Fumbling around, I search for a sheet to cover myself.
Sitting in a chair, his ankle on top of his knee, he quietly observes me while bringing a cigarette to his lips.
A sly smile narrows his eyes as he slowly takes a drag.
My gaze dips to his bare chest before going to the crumpled sheet on his lap. His jeans hardly cover his crotch.
I flick my eyes up.
Holding my gaze, he tips his chin up, breathes out a soft stream of smoke, and lets the sheet drop to the floor, his eyes glinting with mischief.
He’s such a piece of work.
Well, two can play this game, so I get my legs under me, lean forward, and part my thighs, propping myself on my hands.
