Blasphemous (Torn #3)(65)

For the love of everything that’s holy, please, please stop! I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs until I was free from the ghosts of him. “You need to leave for Berlin before you get in trouble, Bass.”

When he didn’t say anything, I snapped, losing patience. “Stop staring at me!”

“I wish I knew how.” His finger reached out. Using the back of his forefinger, he brushed my cheek. “Every night, I dream of this face. The softness of your skin.” He lowered it, trailing gently down the side of my neck, tracing the swell of my breasts.

Pressing my thighs together, I tried to calm the tsunami of sensations his mere touch was creating in my body. I wanted to stop him, but what came out was a desperate whimper when I felt his nose on the base of my throat, breathing me in until he hit my earlobe. “Do you know how much I love your smell?”

No, he better not go there. It was pointless to dig out memories that were long buried.

The only things that were touching me were his nose and lips, but I felt like I was being pried open, being stripped naked so he could feast on me. I almost convulsed when his hot breath tickled my ear. “If I kiss you now, will you taste the same?” he panted out, as if exhilarated from being this close to me.

“Don’t. Please, don’t.” The thought of kissing him was mystifying because he would slowly take my guard down that way. One by one, he would bulldoze his way in. I couldn’t let that happen.

“Maybe not now, but I will very soon.” I hissed when he lightly suckled on my lobe, teasing me senseless—feeling the essence of my core seep out—rejoicing for more.

I was startled when he abruptly let me go, studying me with animalistic possessiveness combined with profound, primal intensity and his violent, perfervid love. “Try not to run too far, moro mou.”

An hour after he left, I was still panting like a wildcat in heat, petrified and excited at his dominating nature. If what he said was true, then I was going to run as far as I could.

I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.





Chapter 27


Paris


“He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again.”



- Chelsie Shakespeare



Emma



New city, new room, I silently thought as I went inside the beautiful suite that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Instead of unpacking, I brought my laptop on the balcony and enjoyed the late afternoon sun greeting my face.

I had so many emails to go through that were left unread. Not to mention, the emails the girls and Carter wrote me since I never got the chance to call them back.

Imagine my shocking reaction when I opened the Internet browser to find Bass and Nikki together in Berlin.

So much for loving me, I fumed with feral rage. Was he a great liar now? Did I ever know who the real Bass was? Thank goodness for the common sense that I had kept me from giving in to his almost-believable speech yesterday.

With utter disgust, I slammed my laptop shut. The emails could wait, however my sanity couldn’t. Tonight, I was going to put him in his place. If he thought he could f*uk with my head with stupid words, he could think again!

I was out for blood and it was Bass’s blood I wanted to draw.

Two hours later, I was getting ready for the pool party Dimitris was hosting at his family’s estate tonight when I heard a knock on my door. Getting my soft pink, silk robe that was sitting on the bed, I hastily put it on before strolling towards the marbled foyer. “Yes? Who is it?” I asked whilst yanking the door open.

Bass with a sexy, arresting smile greeted me. “Hi. I just came back. I was hoping we could talk?” The idiot used his melt-for-me-because-I’m-so-damn-hot voice and that stupid smile plastered on his face.

Did he think I was stupid? Smiling sweetly, I cleared my throat before slamming the door shut in his face. “Kindly, go f*uk yourself.”

There, all done! I thought with great satisfaction as I strolled back in the bathroom and finished getting ready for the party.

I confidently wore the modest yet über-sexy, white, crocheted monokini that barely covered my bum, but certainly gave me ample cleavage. The curved cut on the sides showed a bit of my toned stomach. The back was my favorite part, bare on top but the lower half had crisscrossed crochet with cultured pearls in them.

Checking my reflection in the full-length mirror, I smiled with pleasure. I rocked this baby like I was made to wear it. “No more Bass, Emma,” I declared with hate.

E

The last time I was here with Dimitris, I never really had the chance to check out the stunning piece of property that his family owned in Paris. The garden looked like it could compete with one in Versailles, though.

The pool area was littered with women that all looked like models to me. Tall and lithe, they moved about like they were posing or strutting down a catwalk and they were undeniably, gorgeous chic.

And hell, the men… my eyes were busy jumping from one hottie to another.

“Emma! Already busy choosing your next conquest?” Dimitris kissed both of my cheeks before I saw Claudine was actually next to him.

“It’s fantastic to see you again, Emma. You look marvelous.” Claudine greeted me in the same fashion as her companion did.

“Thank you; you do, too, Claudine.” I smiled, thinking how different she was from Lindsey, the polar opposite of my best friend.