India tries to get on with her life in Braxton, but Oliver doesn’t want to let it go. She tries to tell him the truth, but in the end he pulls her back into the darkness, to the bad memories from the party.
Instead of blending in she has been humiliated again!
Oliver might forgive her in the future, but he will never forget how ruthless she used to be. They are both keeping too many secrets,
Has the line between love and hate ever been so fine?
and a short blurb
Teaser:
In the past few weeks I’d found it difficult to be in the same room with him. Whenever I saw him my pulse started racing, and my mouth went dry in an instant. I couldn't take this anymore. I wanted to tell him the truth about how I felt about him
“Oh hey, I wasn't sure if anyone was at home,” I said, sounding oddly rough like I had a sore throat. My body tensed and I waited for him to say something, but he just stood there looking at me, studying me. His blue eyes looked right through me, watching as I struggled to breathe.
Oliver slowly approached me. He never worked out, but he was well built and I couldn't draw my eyes away from his naked chest.
“I think we should take advantage of the fact that we’re alone,” he said standing in front of me. A couple of times Oliver let me know that I affected him the same way he affected me, but since that kiss in the cinema he hadn't tried to touch me at all. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you in my room.”
“What about your brother? He’ll be home at any minute,” I hissed. He smiled, melting away all the hesitation. He took my hand and walked me to his room, before I protested.
“Don't worry about him. He will be quite preoccupied tonight.”
“But—”
“No buts, I know what I'm talking about." He smirked. “I’ve got something important to show you.”
His room was dark, filled with posters of his favourite band. He was a Goth and he was into the occult and all that supernatural bullshit. People always made fun of him and his mother couldn't stand it, but I didn't mind. I liked that he was trying to be different.
He sat on the floor, dragging me to sit beside him. His touch sent a surging heat down between my breasts.
“What have you got to show me?” I asked, my voice hoarse. He looked at me with those diamond eyes and touched my cheek. A smile broke over his lips. His touch was unexpected and filled me up with explosive desire. Whenever Christian touched me I felt nothing, just an odd tingle of unease. I wasn't capable of feeling anything when he was around. It was like I was made of stone, locked within my own insecurities.
Oliver's touch, brought something new and fresh. When I was with him my stomach twisted with longing and my body searched for his closeness.
“This, and I hope you don't mind,” he whispered. He leaned towards me and pressed his mouth over mine. Our lips connected with a mind-blowing kiss. Every part of me screamed that I should stop this before I couldn't control myself, but my heart thumped faster.
When Oliver ran the tip of his tongue over my teeth and I moaned with pleasure. His palm held my face and I let go of the fear that I was doing something wrong. He pushed himself on top of me sliding between my legs, where he fitted in perfectly.
“India, I've waited for this moment for so long,” he whispered, and I arched my head back enjoying as his fingers caressed my skin. The collision of emotions jetted over us. It was like someone woke me up from my deepest dream. Like I’d been living a different life before; I’d been kissing a wrong guy. And now I was finally making the right choice.
His lips moved over mine like a fire welcomes oxygen. His fingers started to unbutton my shirt. He began planting kisses down my neck, selecting only the most sensitive parts, devouring me completely and utterly with his whole body. His hand cupped my breast and the heat shot through my stomach down to my core, filling me with a pool of warmth and lust.
