Read episode 1 here: http://bit.ly/compulsionsserial
Calum Alexander came into my life like a whirlwind of pure sex. The absolute best sex, I swear to you. Amazing sex and goodness all wrapped up in a 6’2”, rock-hard, well-endowed body.
He was a good man, as I said. The best. You wouldn’t expect a man like him—sexy, rich, on top of his world—to be one of the mythical nice-guys. But so far, it seemed like he was. Something ripped straight out of a dream I didn’t even know I’d had.
That combined with the clit wrecking, body-shocking sex was why I hadn’t let him go yet. Why I couldn’t, even though every bit of my common sense told me to do so before it was too late.
That was why I needed Mr. Dip-Shit to get away from me and stop staring at me with that gleam in his eyes that said he’d had sex with me and he knew what my pussy looked like. If I walked in on Calum having a conversation with an ex he’d once fucked, and that ex was staring at him with that blatant hunger in her eyes, I’d lose my ever-loving shit.
I couldn’t stop other women from wanting him, they’d have to be dead not to, but I wouldn’t share him.
The mere thought of it happening drove me absolutely insane.
I didn’t want what Calum thought about me to matter, but it did. So much. Imagining him seeing that expression on the asshole’s face next to me made me want to start throwing punches. I couldn’t disappoint him. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. And, yet, I knew it was inevitable.
Most men didn’t like women who lived wild, as hypocritical as it was. Calum never showed any hints of misogynism, yet there was no telling how he’d feel if he really found out how I’d been living my life for the last four years.
Calum meant something to me, whether I liked it or not. Or, whether I understood what that something was.