Read Online Scared of Forever (Scared #2) by Jacqueline Abrahams - Free Book Online

messiness!
    “So what did the
monster want?” Chayse asks. “Does she need some help cleaning out
the bowels of hell?”
    “Funny guy,” I say
with a smile. “She was just checking in.”
    “On what?” Chayse
asks. “You know, if you keep consorting with that woman, I may have
to start calling you Lucifer. Meanwhile, there’s a street race
downtown tonight, wanna come?”
    “You know I don’t
go to those things anymore, not after what happened. I don’t know
why you still go, since your ass refuses to get behind the wheel of a
car,” I reply.
    “You know my
reasons,” Chayse replies looking down. “So there was an accident,
they happen. Besides, you got a stint in an upmarket rehab facility
for it. I served time. Quit your bitching,” Chayse reprimands.
    A pang of guilt
assaults my gut. The memory of that accident is so very real. Part of
the reason why Eliza Carson has me firmly by the balls for eternity.
Chayse never once blamed me for anything that happened that awful
night. Then again, Chayse doesn’t know the whole story. The only
people who know the whole story are me, my mother, and by default,
Tyler.
    Shortly after, I excuse
myself from the table and head back to work. Anything is better than
wallowing in my own self-pity and staring at Chayse demolishing the
sickening cafeteria food, which smells like congealed grease.
    The day races by, as it
always does when it’s busy. Before long, the clock hits six pm, and
I make my way back home. This
time to Emily . She normally texts me during the day to see
how I am. Today she didn’t. I walk in the front door of the
apartment, and see her busily stirring a pot on the stove.
    “Hi, baby,” I
greet, wrapping my arms around her waist.
    “Hi,” she says,
turning and landing her lips on mine. Maybe I was unnecessarily
worried after all. She kisses me slowly, and sensuously, her hands
sliding up my back over my shirt. I wince as she touches the still
tender new tattoo.
    “Smells good,” I
say leaning over the stove. “What is it?” I love that Emily can
cook. I guess that makes me a bit of a chauvinist, but so be it.
    “Steak, grilled rare,
the way you like it, with a green peppercorn sauce and potatoes au
gratin,” she says proudly.
    “Wow,” I say, now
glad that I skipped lunch. “I’ll grab a quick shower and be right
back.” I feel Emily’s eyes on me as I walk into the bedroom.
    After my shower we eat
dinner, and then I help her wash the dishes. She barely utters more
than a few words over the course of the meal. It’s a weird feeling
of disconnect. For the second time today, I’m unnerved by her
behavior.
    “How was work?” she
asks softly.
    My mind is so
distracted. “Busy,” I reply. I wonder, as I spin a plate around
in a kitchen towel, if now is a good time to approach my future wife.
It’s been awhile, too many days since I last touched her. Felt
her . But my ego hates it when she turns me down. I’d
rather not even bother, if that were the case.
    She gives me a small
smile. I take a few steps towards her, remove the soapy glass from
her hand, and push her firmly against the kitchen’s island
countertop. Her face registers a look of surprise. She’s not used
to me being this rough.
    “I’ve missed you,”
I whisper low and confident in her ear. She eyes me silently. I slide
both hands into the front of her button down shirt and rip it
fiercely apart, sending the buttons ricocheting across the kitchen
and onto the floor. Her perky, creamy breasts look positively edible
in the coral colored bra she’s wearing.
    I look down and notice
her grip the edge of the counter .
Fear, anticipation, or lust? I can’t decipher it
exactly. I crash my lips into hers, hard. Her mouth opens to mine
hungrily. I grip her chin with my hand and move it to the side, my
lips tracing hard and rough kisses down the side of her neck. My
other hand grips her shoulder, my fingers kneading aggressively into
the soft skin. Emily cries out. Again, pain