Twist Me

“Life is nothing more than a fucked-up roulette,” she says softly, “where the wheel keeps spinning and the wrong numbers keep coming up. You can cry about it all you want, but the truth of the matter is that this is as close to a winning ticket as it gets.”

gets up and walks toward me, still holding me with his gaze. He walks leisurely. Calmly. He’s completely sure of himself. And

His hair is dark and curls slightly. His face is hard and masculine, each feature perfectly symmetrical. Straight dark eyebrows over those strikingly pale eyes. A mouth that could belong to a fallen angel.

can feel his eyes on me, even from a distance.

I wore a push-up bra

I often wake up feeling hot and uncomfortable, throbbing between my legs. Dark sexual images invade my dreams, stuff I’ve never thought about before. A lot of it involves Julian doing something to me, usually while I’m helplessly frozen in place

I had been turned on, but ridiculously frightened at the same time.

I try to imagine what sex with Jake would be like.

I have no idea if I’ll like Jake as a person, but I certainly love how he looks without his shirt.

also dream about him. Sexy dreams, sensual dreams, where he holds my hand, touches my face, kisses me. Our bodies touch, rub against each other. Our clothes come off.