Addiction: A 60's Love Story นิยาย & เรื่องราว

It's been 2 weeks since her wedding, pregnant with a child who is not her husband, and yet not able to consummate her marriage, if not for that stupid Brain for thwarting my plans in motion. How will I get Larry to make love to me, and cover this impending shame and disgrace? “ I need another shot, the old lady said out loud, snapping me out of my deep thoughts. “No, we are bound to refuse any service to any customers who seem to be predisposed to health risks via alcohol intake, I can't give you more shots” the handsome bartender replied softly. “Let's get out of here”, I told the old lady, we should somewhere quieter, “I need to know everything about Daniel Davidson and his son”

Is that what is called LOVE? ***

My vagina walls closed just with the mere thought of being pressed against anything… being invaded and pounded like Africans would pound boiled yam to make it pounded yam. I needed that to quench the molten magma at least for some time… I needed sex to get my mind off my addiction… Yes, Scarlett Cobbs, the famous model, and heiress had been a sex addict for a very long time. I could boldly say I had been addicted to sex all my life.

“Stop now, else we are going to make love again.” “If you really don’t want it, then stop responding to me as if you want me as much as I want you.” “I can’t help it,” I say, closing my eyes as the sensation heightens. He shifts on the bed and pins me. “And I can’t help it as well. Every day that we are together, I am getting more and more addicted to you. I need to go to rehab if you ever leave me.” I frown at him. “Then you will be in rehab after two years.”

I tried to refuse but I was pulled to Ken’s chest. “How are you?” He chuckled. “Terrible,” I mumbled, “I’m in the arms of a baboon.” “Baboon?” He asked. “Yep,” I smiled. Ken was about to say something but the bedroom door opened. We both sat up to look, and Dexter was standing there with an apple in his hand. “Can we help you?” Ken asked. “I hate to interrupt your love fest but the girls are home early,” Dexter sighed, “20 minutes here and they’re already raising hell.”

I suggested. She nodded and we both stepped into the house with our hands still locked onto one another. Theo was right in the living room with Briar next to him. He fixed his eyes on me as I closed the distance between us. “How long has this been going on?” He asked, with a straight face. “I want nothing but the truth.” “Since the wedding,” Vianne replied to him before I could. “Since the wedding!” He repeated with a frown. “It started as nothing serious but as time went on and we got to know each other better, we fell in love,” Vianne continued.

But I wasn’t ready to leave either. We were in this toxic rhythm. Good days where he’d wrap me in his arms and say, “You’re the only girl I’d ever want.” And bad nights where he’d disappear, go drinking, and come back smelling like someone else’s perfume — pretending not to notice the look on my face. It wasn’t love. It was addiction. I craved the highs so badly that I tolerated the lows. I kept hoping he’d go back to the version of him I met at the start. The guy who messaged me sweet things at 2 AM. The one who held my hand in front of everyone. The one who said he’d never hurt me.

My mouth was dry and I felt like crying. "It went on for years, Dear, starting from when he was sixteen. Then, there was all these debts building up from his addiction. Sometimes even strange men would come around demanding money or dropping him off at the doorstep..." her voice faded into the background but was still the peak of my interest. I looked up from her to the room around me and met a pair of familiar light blue eyes staring back. Zac was standing at the door, his smile was wide and his eyes carefree, and I knew that even if I tried to smile, he would know that something was wrong anyway.

It was the perfect plan. Next read: The Perfect Plan, it’s a spinoff of Addicted to You and features Travis’ and Tiffany’s story.

This was a new chapter of my life, this was my addiction to a billionaire, and I knew that it was just the beginning, but the ending would be worth it. In Tristian Ravenford's arms was my home, and with Liam, we were writing this new chapter, together and with one ink. When he kissed me, the crowd cheered, and I smiled happily in the hands of the billionaire I was addicted to and my lovely son. I was at home, this was home, and it was where I wanted to be. END.