Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Poison |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Jade West |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
He was the man who destroyed me. The monster who left me in pieces over a decade ago. I swore I'd never speak to him again, that I'd never set eyes on him again as long as I lived. But I was wrong. When life gets too much and you need to escape, the poison that might kill you becomes oh so tempting. I craved his perverted ways, his smirk, his laughter as he pushed my body way past its limits. I needed a release from the crazy. Just once. Just one night. That’s what I told myself. No strings, no illusions, no promises. Nothing but the lasting thrill of his flesh on mine. The lasting hit of his poisonous touch. But when poison runs through your veins, the way he runs through mine, it’s toxic and eats you alive. This much passion always comes at a price... **This is a typically edgy Jade West novel. Please proceed with caution.** | |
| Books by Author: | Jade West |
Prologue
Anna
It was one of his work social nights. Sebastian’s.
I was sitting at our regular table, making the same regular small talk with the same regular group of other halves, twirling the engagement ring on my finger, ignoring my orange juice as the other women sipped at their wine.
Bored.
I was so damn bored.
But it was more than that.
I scanned the club, our usual venue after the usual restaurant, the ongoing cycle, swirling month by month, like it had done for years. My eyes glossed over the man who was supposed to be the love of my life as he stood in his usual pose, one elbow on the bar top, laughing along with his pompous work friends like their lives were the epitome of worldly success.
I should have been happy. I’d been convincing myself I was for months on end – a mantra of smiles and telling everyone we were great, we were great, we were great. That Sebastian Maitland was the best future husband anyone could wish for. Attentive. Smart. Successful. Invested in our future.
But still, I was bored of it all. And bored of me.
My heart was a static flatline. I’d forgotten who I was, fading into myself for so long that I didn’t recognise my own soul anymore.
I was trapped in my own little box, with a fake smile and fake hopes and dreams.
My mind was constantly churning, desperate for Sebastian to be the one, but I knew deep down that he wasn’t. I was scared to all hell that nobody could ever find the spark in me that made me alive and love me for that, when I didn’t even know me myself.
And that night, I was flatlining. Numb and lost and fading into the background.
Until I looked away from him and saw them there. A couple I’d never seen before.
She was leaning back against the wall between two seating booths and he was up against her, their mouths just inches apart, eyes hard on each other’s. Magnetic. Transfixed.
They were simmering.
And I felt it.
I felt the thrum and the want and the intensity of the fire between them.
I felt the pull of true, animalistic need. The craving for flesh on flesh. The screaming of her body to have him inside her, and the screaming of his to deliver.
He leaned in close, his lips to her ear. Her back arched at his words, her hands coming up to reach for him. One swept up his chest, the other snaked around his neck, fingertips to his skin, desperate. She was desperate.
So was he.
And shit, so was I.
My heart was thumping as I watched, the other women’s voices fading to nothing as I found myself hungry to know what he was saying.
And then he kissed her.
Oh God, how he kissed her.
His mouth claimed hers so hard, with so much need that I felt it in my stomach – that pang of need myself. I clenched my thighs, and I fluttered down deep, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was a voyeur just a few booths over, but I couldn’t stop staring.
It didn’t matter.
They were so consumed with each other they’d never have noticed my voyeurism. They’d never have noticed anything – the whole club could be on fire and they’d be oblivious.
His mouth was fierce. Hers was hungry. Their breaths were ragged, bodies grinding. Their tongues were conquering, submissive, battling and loving, all at once.
Oh, how I wanted to be her. Every single inch of me wanted to be her.
But it wasn’t about the man next to her. I’d barely even noticed what he looked like. He was a hot guy in a suit, sure. But that wasn’t it.
It was the flash of memory that flared up from the depths of me. The flash of the only time in my life I’d ever felt like that about someone else’s flesh. Someone else’s mouth. Someone else’s hands, and words, and cock.
I’d only ever kissed one man like that. I’d only ever wanted one man like that. Needed one man like that. Craved one man like that.
And it wasn’t the man whose engagement ring was on my finger… it was the man who had totally destroyed me all those years ago.
“What do you think, Anna?” Kelly asked from the other side of the table. “Do you fancy a girls’ night next Saturday? The guys can hang out and play some poker, we’ll hit the wine and gossip.”
“Sure,” I said, forcing my eyes across to her. “Sounds great.”
Her voice became a blur again in a heartbeat, planning our usual chatty girls’ night, and I was right back to staring at the couple whose lust was on fire. The kiss broke, and she smiled a knowing smile as he took her hand, both of them pressed hard to each other’s side as they made their way to the exit.