I’m
a blogger. He’s a writer.
He
was my weakness.
I
was his muse.
Once
upon a time my marriage was built on love...
Until
it wasn’t.
Where
had we gone wrong?
I had given up hope…
But
then he messaged me,
And
his words intoxicated me.
Made
me believe in love again.
Made
me believe in truth.
My
imperfect truth…
Now I should think long and hard about
how to proceed, but instead, I choose to ignore it. I’m too intoxicated to
care. Instead I decide to move toward the burning flame. I decide to heed no
warnings.
As the minutes pass I’m
losing my free will. Ryder Matthews is holding me prisoner, and I don’t want
him to release me. Ever.
He leans forward; his lips
graze my ear. “You're the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. Hearing you
speak, the excitement in your voice. The blush of your cheeks when I make you
uncomfortable…Ava, you fascinate me.” I shake my head in confusion and as I go
to open my mouth, he lifts his hand up to stop me. “You’re astonishing. Do you understand?” The way he says my name
gives me chills. Goose bumps prick at my skin.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Come with me.”
My
fate sealed.
There’s something so real
about him, and when he tells me to do something I feel I’ve no choice but to
comply. He smiles and lightly grabs my arm, ushering me to the back of the
room. My steps are rocky as I follow him. Now situated close to the window overlooking
the city, Ryder stands by my side. His warm breath in my ear, “Where is your
husband, Ava?” His words seduce me. He
looks at me like a hungry predator stalking his prey. There is so much more
meaning behind his simple words, knowing this leaves me dizzy with need.
“I don’t know…I don’t
know,” I breathe out again in almost a whisper as his fingers skim my waist.
“That is a shame.”
He is trailing a pattern down my torso, stopping at the curve of my hip. I
shudder and my breath hitches as his hand turns me around. His eyes glaze over
with desire and he leans forward. “Tell me to stop.” His face is a mere inch
away from mine, “Tell me to stop, Ava.”
My heart slams against my
chest. I’m weak and dizzy. I shut my eyes and in a pained tone I utter the word
I couldn’t say with my eyes open.
“Stop.”
Copyright © 2015 by Ava Harrison
Copyright © 2015 by Ava Harrison
Ava Harrison is a New Yorker, born and bred. When she’s not journaling her life, you can find her window shopping, cooking dinner for her family, or curled up on her couch reading a book.
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ava-Harrison/984568204896418?fref=ts
Twitter @avaharrison333
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