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I’ve become a side character in my own life, and right now, I just want to escape.
The wine tastes like depression. Like “fuck you.” Like three liters for $11.99 at the gas station down the street from my hotel.
I guess no one told the algorithm that what was left of my own happily ever after just came crashing down around me.
Maybe I wanted so badly to feel loved and taken care of that I deluded myself into believing a fantasy.
I wanted to escape my life, but this doesn’t feel like freedom; it feels like exile.
In my head, I’m a slut. But in reality, I just read a lot of spicy books.
“What do you know?” he murmurs. “You are delicious, Peaches.”
“I want to be inside you. I want you to sit your fucking ass down and bounce on my cock until you come so hard you can’t see straight.”
It just figures that the first man to give me an orgasm that rivals my vibrator would be a kidnapping serial killer.
“Ashwater! Get down here, your damsel is in fucking distress.”
That means that I’m actually standing outside a castle filled with goblins. I actually almost got eaten by a wolf. And the guy I picked up at a bar can actually fly. I’m not in fucking Kansas anymore.
Part of me still wants to believe that I’m dreaming or stuck in some perpetual renaissance faire, but I can’t even sell that lie to myself. I just saw an entire castle full of magical creatures that not even Disney World could replicate.
“Safe?” I scoff, inching further away from him. “Dude, there are goblins downstairs. I don’t know about you, but that’s not what I’d call fucking safe.”
As in, it sucks that your husband is a prick, but it could be worse. You could get kidnapped by your one-night stand.
Maybe my brain superimposed an uglier face onto him so I could process the fact that I’d been abducted, coerced, and thrown into a possibly fatal bargain with a supposedly fictional character. Too bad my brain couldn’t do me the solid of holding on to that delusion.
This asshole used his weird Fae powers to break into my Nana’s house! I guess that’s the least of my problems right now, but still. The audacity of this man
“All the best relationships are complicated,”
Unfortunately, I’m probably the only person in this entire world who understands how funny it is to play this particular song in this tavern. Oh well.
I might not have any magic, but music is my magic, and it’s casting a spell over every faerie in here.
I feel like I need an emergency therapy session and a prescription for horse tranquilizers—and that’s just to deal with my impending divorce.
Gambling is probably the second most popular Fae pastime.” “What’s the first?” “Seducing fair maidens.”
Is that toxic? Maybe, but I’d hardly be the first girl to want a guy who was bad for her.
“Okay, the next person who tells me to calm down is getting punched in the face.”
“I told you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. As long as I’m breathing, no one will touch you.”
Oh my God, I’m kissing a fairytale.
My mind is jumping to the worst possible options. Maggots…fruitcake…someone’s head.
“I don’t know much about one-night stand etiquette, but I’m positive this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
Even if it’s the last thing I ever do—and it probably will be—I’ll make sure no one hurts you.”
I guess, it’s just that his tone isn’t giving reluctant babysitter and bodyguard. It sounds like he cares.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, and I will certainly be recovering…after I find somewhere to hide.
“I’m not going to wait around for any man. My time and attention belong to people who are thinking about no one but me.”
“Then I should get every single minute of your fucking attention.”
IM SCREAMING
Since the moment he first opened his mouth, this has felt less like fighting and more like foreplay.
I can’t touch Alix; I can’t even look at her. Even if I want to. Even if she wants me to.
Ooh, if I walk through a bookcase, do you think I’ll see Matthew McConaughey?”
“But be careful what you call me, Peaches. Next time you say something like that, I’m going to take it as an invitation to spank you.”
He can smell me getting wet for him? Um okay, that’s so fucking embarrassing. Please let me just drop dead now.
“We’re not human, no matter how much we might appear to be. Our biology is different.” “From what I recall, your biology was just fine,”
I don’t really have a frame of reference for how it must feel to be cursed, but I keep picturing that old news story about the guy who ate someone’s face while tripping on bath salts. I bet it’s kind of like that.
I FORGOT ABOUT THAT
In my head, Gretchen Weiner’s voice screams, Oh my God, Alix. You can’t just ask people why they have legs!
I didn’t know kissing could feel like this—not like an obligation as a prelude to sex, but so intense I think it might leave me permanently burned from the inside out.
So I care a little about Daemon. Just a little. But not in a true love, real feelings kind of way. More like a good sex, mind-blowing orgasms, magical fairytale soldier, kind of way.
“Tell me, Peaches. Are you afraid of me?”
“Good. If you knew half the things I’ve thought about doing to any male who looks at you, you should be afraid. As long as I’m breathing, no one will fucking touch you, because I’ll kill them and fuck you in their blood.”
“If you’re waiting for an apology, don’t.” “I wasn’t.” “Good, because I’m not going to be fucking sorry for saving your life.”
“Fine, Peaches. You win. I won’t hunt him down, but if he or anyone else ever touches you again I won’t just kill them, I’ll burn down the fucking kingdom.”
I mean, a large part of me says fuck the complications, we can worry about that after we hook up again…maybe a few times. How many times until I want to stop and talk about feelings? Eight? Ten? Never?
“If you don’t fuck me right now, I really will kill you.”
“If Thorne finds out and executes me for this, it will not matter, you’re killing me anyway.”
“Tu es tellement belle que je ne peux pas me contrôler en ta présence.”
