Entangle by Veronica Larsen
Don’t judge me for what I’m about to say. I tried to do things the right way. I wore the big white dress and rode off with Prince Charming. Then Charming changed his mind. See, that’s the part they don’t tell you; he can change his mind. These days, I don’t put my heart in anyone’s hands because I don’t even know where I’ve left it.
Enter Leo. Blue-eyed specimen of a man, stirring me awake in ways I never thought possible. I think I should indulge myself for once. Because one time is all I need. Then he goes and weaves simple, deliberate movements into pure, gilded pleasure. And I’m hooked. I’m so blinded by desire I barely notice the gaping hole opening underneath me, the one that’s sure to swallow me entirely. Because every time I’ve dared to get close to someone, they’ve cracked me wide open.
Why should this time be any different?
Our eyes meet again and I feel the electricity weaving in the air between us. It takes every ounce of control to keep my hands on the desk behind me. Then my eyesight darts to a purple speck on her cheek.
“Is that…” I don’t realize what I’m doing until I reach over to her and brush a finger along her skin to pick it up. Her response is immediate; she freezes up at my touch. “Is this confetti?”
She leans in to get a closer view.
“Oh. Yeah. I was at a kid’s party earlier.” She takes hold of my hand with her own to inspect the purple speck I’m holding on the tip of my finger. She goes on pretending she doesn’t notice our proximity, but still lowers her voice a notch. “I got caught in a piñata explosion.”
“Sounds terrifying.”
Our voices are just above a whisper now. Because we’re standing so close together, there’s no need to speak louder than that. My breathing slows as I look down toward her mouth and watch as her lips form the next words.
“It was. I barely made it out alive.”
I’m not sure what happened next and I don’t know who made the first move, who closed the gap between us. All I know is that her face is suddenly in my hands and I’m kissing her. Hard. Her mouth parts to my tongue, her own joining me willingly. Her entire body melts into mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. Our kiss is desperate.
I grab her by her waist and move our bodies around until her back hits the door. I press her against it. My hands slide up and down her body, grasping at whatever I can reach.
Veronica Larsen is a novelist who enjoys writing emotionally rousing stories laced with potent sexuality. She particularly enjoys writing about intelligent and independent women who give the male lead a run for their money. When Veronica isn’t writing, she is working on graphic design projects. She enjoys losing herself in a good book and spending time with her husband and young son.
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