The Good Girl Effect (Salacious Legacy, #1)

by Sara Cate

but I’m a little bitter that my obsession with Jack St. Claire has clouded my mind

You are weirdly obssessed with a man you talked to once and who is greiving his dead wife.

He clearly did not want me to be there. And I can’t stop wondering why. Was it about keeping his work life private? Or was he trying to protect me from something?

She really has delusions of grandeur that this man who has spoken to her twice thinks that much about her. Granted its a romance so of course he will unrealistically imediatley want her back.

Then I imagine it’s me standing by the window, hugging my perfect round belly, feeling his loving gaze on my face as he snaps a photo of me. It’s a cruel trick my mind plays on me, and the moment the tormenting idea settles in, I shove it away. That’s not real.

She is fucked in the head...... stalker problems

It was curiosity that led me to open that letter. Curiosity that led me to Paris in the first place. Curiosity that led me to the club the other night and curiosity that brought me into this room. But is it possible all these things are really just breadcrumbs? Is it possible Jack is inviting me down this path, tempting me to take a closer look every chance I get?

She is on a whole new level of dilusion

“You’re not going to show me?” I ask in astonishment. “No.” “Wait!” Reaching out, I grab his arm and try to turn him toward me. He glares down at my hand on his skin as if I’m a leech. “Why not?” “Not me. Find someone else.” “I don’t want to find someone else.” Immediately, he winces as if the sound of my voice pains him. It only enrages me more.

Girl get a grip you don’t know this man. You’ve creepily inserted yourself into his life because you became obsessed with a picture of his dead wife.

I wish I understood why. Why does he shut me out? Why won’t he give me a chance? And why on earth do I care?

Because he’s still grieving his dead wife

Even after all this time, I’ve never fully read it. Only skimmed a few lines. But there’s a burning interest inside me that won’t let me let it go. It’s not about knowing their relationship anymore. It’s about understanding him.

Screw his wife she’s dead I want the grieving widower who desperately needs therapy

Standing next to his bed, I stare down at the nightstand where a single photo of him and Emmaline and baby Bea rests in a frame. I’m stabbed with a twinge of guilt in my gut, realizing that she’s not here. That although she is gone, he is still another woman’s husband. Is this wrong of me? To ask what I’m asking?

YES IT IS!!!!!

Now I hear Camille’s instead, and it grates on my nerves. Her presence alone seems to be erasing the memory of my wife. And she has no idea.

If I was his dead ex wife I would haunt his ass for saying that shit

Jack St. Claire is gorgeous, rich, and older—and the one person I can’t get involved with. For one, he’s far out of my league. Two, he’s still grieving his late wife. And three, I’m his daughter’s nanny. I meant what I said in that letter. I can separate work from pleasure. But pleasure from love? That sounds harder. If anything romantic were to grow between us and it didn’t work out, I would be forced to leave, and it would crush that little girl. And after everything she’s been through, that would haunt me forever.

No shit which is why you shouldn’t have started anything in the first place

Was this something he did with his wife? Did she enjoy it as much as I do? Something about that sparks a sense of jealousy in my gut. I desperately want this to be something only he and I share, but those are dangerous, reckless thoughts to be having.

Girl are you really jealous over his dead ex wife

Does Jack know French? It’s a simple phrase that I’m sure most tourists learn to ask for the bill, but hearing him speak my native language has an effect on me. Is he doing this on purpose? Making me fall for him when he’s very explicitly said we shouldn’t.

Not everything he does is for you!!! For the record he might not even know french is your native language.

It was never like this with Em. I never felt so depraved and overcome with lust the way I am with Camille. I never felt so close to Em.

I don’t like how he thinks about his dead ex wife

I’m starting to get the feeling that my day off will be spent with my boss when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I wince. Nothing could be more important than this right now. Jack stands as I pull my phone out of my pocket and see Elizabeth’s name on the screen. She’s never called me before. I’m sure it’s nothing. But what if it’s not? “Something wrong?” he asks. I don’t want to worry him, not when I’m so close to getting what I want. So I silence the call and toss it aside.

WTF shes never called before and is currently watching a child I’m responsible for but I’m trying to get an orgasm so I’m going to ignore the call even though your literal job is to take care of the child!!!!

His hand slides up my leg, and I let out a yelp. I should feel terrible for the arousal building inside me, but I can’t help it. It’s not really him that I’m drawn to but the idea of what he’s proposing. “You mean…” I squeak, looking over my shoulder at him. He’s so close our mouths nearly touch. His hands are on my hips now, and he gives them one quick jerk, slamming his body against my ass and making me moan. I am absolutely shameless for how turned on I am right now. I should not be here with him. I should be with Jack.

You allegedlly love Jack but have no problem with another man doing that to you

Suddenly, the next voice I hear isn’t Julian’s, and it isn’t nearly as pleasant or quiet. “What the fuck?” Jack bellows angrily. His voice has a growly sound to it. I gasp loudly as I struggle to spin around to find him. “Oh, hello, Jack,” Julian says, and judging by the way he said that, he’s not at all surprised or horrified by my boss’s sudden presence in finding us like this. In fact, I’m starting to think I’ve been set up.

You let yourself be willingly setup

“I want to fill you up, little bird,” he proclaims through grunts. “I want you full of my seed. Can I do that?” I’m so close to the edge, and to my surprise, his words have me screaming with arousal so intense, I nearly come already. I know it’s just dirty talk. It must be. But the idea of being bred by him is suddenly so sexy I don’t want it to stop. “Yes,” I scream into the mattress as he fucks me harder. “Keep going. More.” “You like that, don’t you?” he asks with a punishing grip on my hips. “You like the idea of me fucking a baby into you.” “Yes!” I shout. “The thought of your swollen belly makes me so fucking feral for you.”

But i thought she was on birth control???

“It’s a shame he’s leaving.” Julian’s words settle slowly in my ears before I process them. It’s a shame who’s leaving? Eventually, I turn toward him. “What are you talking about?”

miscommunication trope enters the chat

“Tu me prends pour une idiote?” she asks. “No, I do not think you are an idiot,” I reply in a huff, “and stop speaking French. It’s throwing me off.” Which is true. Her French is disarming, and I know she’s doing it to prove her intelligence. And maybe even her dominance.

Your native language is throwing you off????