real. She never was. I’m crazy. I imagined her, and only crazy people imagine shit like that. My mother was right. I’m sick. I’m so sick. How does someone imagine a whole person, doing the things she did to me?
Skidding to a halt, I stare down at the dark waters a hundred feet below me. The moon highlights the crest of the waves that crash against the rock. My heart pounds inside my chest. The air thins.
I jump.
A tickle in my stomach explodes with panic.
Nothing flashes before my eyes except the world slipping past at a dizzying speed.
A cold sting smacks my skin, pressure crushing my chest as I plunge into the sea. Ice cold water embraces me, drawing me deeper, toward the bottom. Into the darkness below.
I’m still alive.
I’m still alive.
I kick away from the pull. My muscles burn while I climb the slippery liquid wall all around me. Lungs pulsing with the need for air, I propel myself upward, until I breach the surface.
The cliff stands off in the distance, while the sea carries me further away. With fatigue weighing heavy on me, I push forward and swim toward the shore at the opposite side of the rock.
It must take a good twenty minutes of fighting the water, the lack of air, the muscles that long to give out on me. By the time the shallow bed of sand hits my feet, I can hardly stand.
A shudder of bone-chilling cold shakes my body, my teeth chattering, jaw sore and aching from tension and stiffness. Collapsing to my knees, I crawl against the tug of the waves, until the heel of my hand hits dry sand, and turning over onto my back, I lie staring up at the starry sky and the moon, weak and panting for breath.
I’m alive.
I mentally replay the moment I leapt from that cliff without a single thought of consequence. If I’d died, or lived, didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was the exquisite rush of fear and recklessness that burned inside of me. A paradox of racing toward death in order to feel alive.
A burst of laughter tears through my already taxed chest at the thought.
My body hardens, and I slip my hand down inside my sodden pants where my dick stands at full mast.
A few quick pumps, and I come harder than I ever have before.
Chapter 25
Isadora
Present day …
It’s hard to believe a week has passed already, and as I make my way toward the sleek black vehicle parked in the driveway, with the tall, beefy guy I’ve come to learn is Makaio standing beside it, I can’t help but feel a little sadness at having to leave for the weekend.
At the same time, I probably need a break from this place.
I glance back at where a figure stands in the window of Lucian’s office. They turn away, out of view, disappearing into the room beyond.
Him, no doubt. He’s avoided me since the night in his office. Not that I’ve seen much of him, at all, in the last couple of days. Mostly moments like these, when I catch him staring at me, just before he walks away.
Maybe I should regret that kiss, too, but I can’t. Even now, the phantom sensation of his lips against mine still lingers on my skin. The bitter taste of whiskey. The heat of his breath mingling with mine.
Makaio opens the door to the back passenger seat, his lips only halfcocked in a smile.
“Thank you,” I say, and pause mid-climb inside. My God, I’ve never seen the interior of a car so posh as this one. “Holy shit.”
“That’s a Bentley for ya.”
Setting my bag on one of the tan leather seats, I fall into the cushioned one before me, the soft leather like sitting on a cloud. Clean and inviting, the lingering scent of Lucian’s cologne makes for a delicious greeting as I settle in.
Makaio reaches over me, and I shrink at his close proximity, but he merely presses a button on the long center console that divides the two passenger seats. A screen slides up from a slit in the seat in front of me. He presses another button, and something pushes against my heels, as he backs himself out of the car.
Startled, I look down to find a footrest, like that of a recliner, lifting my feet up off the floor.
“I have a cooler with some soda and Perrier water in the front. If you push the button beside you, there’s a foldout table.