ROSETHUD! My back slammed against the door. That heavenly firm muscular frame was grazing me as roughly and hungrily as his lips were—stretching and pressing to imprint himself on me, to make every cell of me his. Oh, but it’s also your hand that’s gripping his shirt, wanting him closer, needing his skin against yours, desiring his scent in your lungs, his warmth to run through your veins…. And he’s feeling the same about you—the desperate way those large, rough hands sliding up your arms, feeling and remembering, those thick digits sliding through your fingers, mimicking his hard, thick desire that wanted to be buried deep… deep inside you… …holding you tightly until you come with pure ecstasy—. Those wondrous lips tore away and everything vanished. The emptiness was sad and cold. ‘Stay away from me then,’ breathed the deep voice. I opened my eyes and found Keithen as breathless as I was. And hurt—. He turned away, his back at me. ‘Think. Before you do anything. Goddess
ROSE‘Where’ve you been?’ Richard stopped me. Hands on my shoulders, he bent slightly to squint at me . ‘And why’s your face so red?’ ‘I hate Rum.’ The whisper slipped out before I could stop it. And I watch a huge grin of a face levelled with mine. ‘Now you’re talking!’ He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tightly. ‘I know you’ll come through! You like me more, do you? I knew it!’ How the hell did he come to that conclusion? Ah, whatever. I nudged at him and he released me. ‘Where are you going?’ I asked, still feeling like a grape and a charcoal at the same time. ‘To watch someone get slapped,’ he whispered, not hiding his eager tone, as his finger laced through mine. ‘Let’s go!’ ‘Who?’ I muttered, not in the mood for anything except slapping that stupid, womanising Alpha. There’s no other reason why he was with Sherry. And the van had rocked a little. I swear. ‘Apparently, it’s three slaps. Can’t wait to see a swollen, red face.’ ‘SILENCE ON SET!’ Instantly, the v
My gaze lifted and immediately found his blue electric eyes. Something clogged my throat as my mouth opened. And then those same blue eyes almost frowned, puzzled. What's wrong, they seemed to ask. I swallowed hard and inhaled deep, and recited, ‘What is it now?’--Gosh, I sound like a robot. Keithen straightened—he was Ricky. There was no need for a camera. ‘Quit the attitude,’ his low voice breathed. ‘You know you need to hear this.’Christ—Ricky is truly a prick. I looked down and continued reciting, ‘Turn and leave—oh.’ I glanced up and blue eyes were grinning with amusement. I threw a glare of defiance and turned from him—as instructed—and his grip came around my wrist. ‘Where are you going? Didn't you hear what I said?’I finished reading and looked at him. ‘Yes, I did. And I'm leaving.’His grip tightened and repeated the line that I heard earlier. I tried to shake him off and cried in a reading voice, ‘You’re gonna spit on him so I don’t wanna hear it. You may be the ki
*Warning: This chapter contains material that you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of rape, abuse and violence. ***** “There are no accidental meetings between souls.” ~Sheila Burke I'm Rose Cintilar. Eighteen this year. And I'm about to be raped. But I don't know it yet. Because right now, I'm knocked out. The thing about being knocked out is this: you think you're awake—you feel awake—but you're logged out of memory, so it registers nothing except darkness. Black darkness. But you feel things. And I feel that something bad is about to happen. I can feel it in my bones. They are trembling with a chilling sense of fear—the kind that you want to escape from, because you know it'll give you permanent damage… but you're too helpless to run. Or perhaps I'm dreaming… and it's the cold, damp air of the hour blowing through the open window of my bedroom. A cold wave washed my chest. And a hyena—no, hyenas... there a
ROSE 12 hours earlier… A tear slipped under my thick brown rim of specs and rolled down my left cheek as I stared in yet another disbelief at my work, beautifully blown up on the screen, presented by the head of the styling team to B.A.D’s management team as another one of her creations. They did it again. Those so-called stylists—veterans in their own rights of knowledge, skills, and years of experience—had once again played me. Just to steal my styling idea. An idea that was woven from my father’s gift of creativity. My name is Rose Cintilar. Eighteen. Three years ago, I came to B.A.D, the top talent agency of the U.R.T, with hopes of becoming a famous stylist. My father had always wanted to be one when he was alive, and since I inherited his vibrant creativity, I saw it as my life goal to make his wish come true. It was the least I could do to make amends for what I'd done. If it wasn’t for me, my parents wouldn’t have died. This, I heard from my aunt ever since she took
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of abuse and violence. ***** ROSE I can’t believe this is happening! This is my chance! Imagine working for Rum! I can carry his bag, tell him his schedule, talk to him… watch him as he crafts his music… as he eats and drinks… exercise… I wonder if he exercised. Oh! I can be backstage while he performs—I get to have an exclusive view of him! “Assistant? Me?” The model laughed in a glorious chime. “I’m too good for that, don’t you think?” The bombshell swivelled back to the front and her finger stroked her phone screen once more as she continued mooning over Rum. “But I do like the idea,” she muttered absently. “Those electrifying blue eyes. Being near them 24-7… ooh! Just the thought of it makes my skin tingle! But why are they getting someone from the company staff? Rum's a superstar! Shouldn’t they hire a professional from the outside?” The stylist ch
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of sex, rape, abuse and violence. ***** RUM An hour earlier… “HARDER! HARDER, RUM BABY!” My hand shot out to cover those pretty red lips as I continued slamming into her, hard and fast… and wild. “Shut the fuck up!” I hissed. “You want people to hear us!” She shook her head as more moans slipped through her greasy lips. “Oh God… fuck, you’re so good, baby! It’s so big… it’s tearing me apart!” “Really?” I got onto the conference room table, clamped her knees together and pressed her down, and pounded into her, swift and rough. “How’s this? Like this, Annie?” “Mmm!!!” She nodded fiercely. “Mmmm!!!!” “Who says you’re loose down here, huh?” I lifted and plunged into her, deeply and viciously. “Take all of me, you slut.” “Yes, I’m your slut! Give me, Rum baby. I love it so… OOH!” The thirty-something divorcee groaned, tormented bliss spread across h
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of sex, rape, abuse and violence. ***** RUM They took the first turn. Which means they'll end up at the alleyway a few lanes from B.A.D's back alley. That's the darkest corner around here, easy to miss, and even easier to rob, take a sniff, kill… and rape. I stepped out from behind the lamp post. Stingy motherfuckers. Can't pay the hookers so they grab any pussy from the streets. I clicked my knuckles and turned my neck. Yeah…it's time for these powerful fists to meet some flesh and crack some bones. I've got nothing against thugs, but I hate people who don't pay for sex, especially when I have to pay for it–with every bit of what I have on me. I halted as a familiar voice sprang out like jack-in-the-box. Mind your own business, Rum… Stay out of trouble…. I gripped into fists and winced with a reluctant obedience. "Argh!!!" Fuck you, Danny! I s