Kiss Me : A Modern Sleeping Beauty Retold (A Modern Fairy Tale Series Book 2)
Page 17
“I’ve never been one to judge a book by its cover.” We introduced ourselves, but we refrained from speaking about the reason for our visit. We made idle chitchat, but I was exhausted. Jessica was more than happy to escort me to my bungalow.
I was barely inside before I fell on the mattress without turning on the light. It was a long flight and tomorrow was shaping up to be an even longer day.
CHAPTER 6
Tyler
I was fuming mad. Being cut off from civilization was hard to justify. I could feel the money flowing through my fingers escaping my grasp. There was no way to know how the markets were going to fluctuate without being on top of things.
I barely slept. It was always that way when I was someplace new. It didn’t matter how extravagant my surroundings were. The white impersonal sheets were ruffled and practically on the floor when I woke up shivering in a cold sweat.
It was only 6:00 AM. My balcony door was open to the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. The salt air made me remember why I was there in the first place.
“I know it’s not easy, but this is necessary for your health and well being. There’s no reason for you to say anything unless you want to. I have your file in my hand. I thought it best for me to meet you on your terms.” Dr. Evans was a charismatic redheaded bombshell. She wasn’t wearing a lab coat. There was nothing clinical about her. I didn’t feel a thing.
“My world revolves around knowing what is happening at every minute of the day. It’s galling to think I have no control over my own destiny. Some people may be able to shut out the rest of the world by stepping onto the sands of paradise, but that isn’t me.” I was trying to hold my tongue and getting hot under the collar was counterproductive.
“You’ve already told me your assistant is more than capable. There will be time to make a phone call later this afternoon at one of the house phones. We do limit interaction with the outside world to 10-minutes.” She was very calm. It was only infuriating me further.
“I can’t even find out what is happening on the news. There is no television and the radio plays what I would call elevator music. It’s very disconcerting. I’m more at home with sirens and car alarms going off all night long.” I could smell her perfume, but it was nothing compared to the intoxicating aroma from my sleeping stranger on the plane.
“There’s no reason to get upset. We will delve into your emotional issues at our session at 11:00 AM. The only thing I ask is for you to be honest with me.” She put her hand on my shoulder. There wasn’t even a rise below my waist.
“I can’t deny this place is beautiful, but even my private island is connected to the Internet. You expect me to sit idly by and let my business suffer needlessly.” The walls started to close in on me. It was the reason why I found comfort on the balcony with the hot sand stretched out in front of me. I was footsteps from the sparkling blue water.
Dr. Evans was wearing a white summer dress with red flowers adorning the fabric. It was a gauzy material designed specifically for the Costa Rican climate. There was actually a very simple yellow flower behind her ear.
“I’m going to make a suggestion and I hope you take it in the spirit it is given. There is a yoga session about to take place in about 20-minutes. It would be a good idea for you to join them. Center the frustration inside you.” I wasn’t sure about this new age nonsense. I was never one for healing crystals.
“I want to be crystal clear about this. I don’t think there’s anything you can do for me. I’m willing to put in the work, but I don’t expect miracles.” I had on a flowing white pair of summer pants and a shirt to match. It was open and blowing lazily in the breeze.
“That’s not the right attitude to have. You have to have a positive outlook. If you believe this isn’t going to work then it’s not going to work. I have a book which I want you to read at your earliest convenience. I give it to all of my patients. You would be surprised at the results.” She produced something well known to me. The Secret was about projecting positive thoughts into the universe.
“I know all about it, but maybe I do need a refresher course. I’m going to take a walk on the beach and maybe catch up to the yoga class.” I was pretty limber, but some of those moves could be quite advanced. Trying them would make me feel muscles being used that hadn’t been used in quite some time.
“I’m glad to hear this book has been a part of your life. I was never a believer, but my cancer has been in remission for the past two years. I prescribe to what I read in those pages. I envisioned being healthy and I believed it. The body and mind is an amazing tool. It’s all in how you use it.” She was a very calming influence. I felt my blood pressure start to lower to a manageable level.
“I’ve used it in business, but maybe there is a way for me to utilize the same thing in my personal life. I admit to having some misgivings when I got together with the one that ripped my heart out of my chest and showed it to me.” She was following me down to the beach where the sunrise was a magical glow of orange, yellow, and red.
“I encourage my patients to use it in every aspect of their lives. The Secret isn’t the only thing I teach. My treatment opens up the pathways of accepting those things you cannot change. Therapy will help you let things go which have negatively impacted your life.” It sounded good on paper, but I had yet to see results. It was still early. I couldn’t expect to be cured overnight.
“I suppose you think it’s foolish for me to hold onto the anger and resentment. I would probably feel better if I stop complaining and follow the doctor’s orders.” The sand between my toes and the vision of those surfers catching the next big wave was giving me more to think about than my financial holdings.
“Everybody gets there in their own time. No one person is ever the same. I usually make the analogy of a snowflake. Think of yourself floating aimlessly in the sky like one of those original snowflakes. The mind is fragile and there’s only so much we can take before we break.” She did make sense although she did give me the impression of sitting around in a circle singing Kumbaya.
“I’ve done my best to live a healthy lifestyle by treating my body like a temple. I can’t say the same thing for my mental health.” I was in the best shape of my life and seeing the results in the mirror made the pain worth the gain.
“You sound like the type of guy who sees the glass half empty. When you leave here you will always see the glass as half full. I’m glad we had this time to talk. It has given me a direction in which way my therapy is going to be catered to you.” She walked away with the dress swirling around her from a gust of wind coming from nowhere.
I tried to forget about my financial worries and concentrated on the beauty surrounding me from every angle. I went to the water’s edge and sat down with the book in my hands. I flipped through the pages and stopped when a memorable quote jumped out at me.
I could smell bacon and sausages assaulting my olfactory sense. I was looking forward to a hearty breakfast to stick to my ribs.
I read the first few pages and I started to feel the weight on my shoulders lighten considerably.
This place was a long way from San Diego. I’d been around the world, but I had always come back to the place I called home. The Spruce Street Suspension Bridge was one of my earliest memories growing up; I used to call it “Wiggly Bridge”. It was still there to this day drawing tourists from around the globe.
I got up and brushed off the sand sticking to my clothes. I wiped my hands and carried the book like my own personal bible. I wanted something better, but I was unsure this book had the answers.
The palm trees stretched for as far as the eye could see. They surrounded the beach and gave that necessary shade from the scorching sun. There was one gentleman using a machete to cut into a fresh coconut. He saw me standing there and offered me the one he cracked open.
I looked around, but he was obviously offering it to me and no one else. It was delicious and sweet. It was nothing like what I would find in the stat
es commercially on the shelves at a grocery store. This was fresh. It wasn’t going to be the last time I enjoyed the island flavors.
“I don’t know how to say thank you in your language.” He didn’t understand, but my smile was a universal sign.
I returned to the restaurant connected to the rehab center and headed over to the breakfast buffet. I was starving, loaded my plate with the eggs and bacon. I didn’t know where they got the bacon, but I was going to have to compliment the chef on making it to my specifications. I also found myself drawn to a medley of different fruits. It was the perfect way to cleanse my palate after the meal.
Nobody bothered to come to introduce themselves. It could’ve been I was sending off this vibe to stay away. I wasn’t much for company. I was perfectly content with the plate of food and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice.
I saw people in various states of undress. Some even dared to wear swimsuits. I was going to have to get with the program or get lost in the shuffle. I saw the clock. I had barely made it for breakfast before they were going to clean up and get ready for lunch.
I didn’t even have a chance to shave, shower, or put on any of my cologne. I slapped my forehead realizing I had left it behind and the last of it had already worn off while I slept. If what I did was called sleeping. Tossing and turning restlessly was not going to give me the eight hours I needed to function.
I needed an immediate caffeine fix. If I thought it was possible, I would have them direct it right into my veins intravenously.
I stood behind this woman who couldn’t seem to make up your mind what she wanted. She finally chose Belgian hot chocolate. It wasn’t the least bit chilled, but everybody’s body chemistry was different.
She walked away and we briefly locked eyes. I smiled.
The clock and my heart was the only thing I heard beating at the same time.
She was backing away and wasn’t watching what she was doing. She bumped into one of the dishwashers carrying a load of dirty dishes back to the kitchen. She apologized profusely with a voice barely high enough to be a whisper.
The young man wasn’t frazzled. I was sure this wasn’t the first time nor was it going to be the last time somebody made a mistake.
She kept glancing back over her shoulder like she couldn’t quite believe I was standing there looking at her. Amazingly, she didn’t spill one single drop of her hot chocolate.
I felt the sparks.
I wasn’t sure if it was just my imagination. I had no idea who she was, but I was happy to know we were in the same place.
Want to know what happens to Erin & Tyler?
Continue the story here: https://www.amazon.com/Her-Secret-Billionaire-Zoey-Black-ebook/dp/B0774T55X7
Sample Chapters from Snow and Her Seven Hunks (A Modern Fairy Tale Series Book 1)
Life was good. I thought it was until the fateful night of the car accident. It changed everything.
My sight was taken and given back to me.
The world looked different.
I had a clean slate and an insatiable appetite.
A storm was approaching…the men are about to learn Snow is a four-letter word. She will leave her mark…not on one man…but SEVEN hot alphas (personal trainer, professor, pilot, firefighter, undercover cop, doctor, and prosecutor) in all sorts of unusual settings.
The visions will scare her. She will learn more and seek out for vengeance. Will she suffer the wrath of the Evil Mafia Queen?
Will she survive this dangerous path she got herself onto?
Come along with Snow and be part of her adventure!
Note: Snow and Her Seven Hunk is a standalone 45000+ words contemporary steamy erotic romance, with multiple POVs to give insights to all the wild plot twists and turns that will keep you on your toes, and over the top erotic encounters that will fog up your reading device.
There are MFM, MF encounters only.
CHAPTER 1
Snow
Hi, My name is Snow. My birth name was Neva Blanche. It was a simple explanation. Mom was Spanish and Dad was French. I was born on a snowy quiet day in Colorado, and Neva meant white snow in Spanish. The correct pronunciation was “Neev”, but most people didn’t say it right. So I just did everyone a favor and asked them to call me Snow. Only Mom and Dad would call me Neva.
I was living a simple life. My professional life couldn’t get any better. My career as one of the youngest executives in a top advertising agency had afforded me the opportunity to use my creative license. It was my dream job. But my love life on the other hand was a different story.
I was at the gym still suffering from the injury to my wrist after the hit and run accident. They never caught the person responsible. It changed everything in that split second where I was propelled over the hood and down onto my hands and knees.
My cornea was slashed by broken glass from the windshield I was thrown into. It was my fault for not wearing a seatbelt, I was just going to a 24 hour grocery store, it was supposed to be a two minute drive on a quiet week night. I typically did my grocery runs late at night to avoid line ups. Ultimately it was my fault and I paid a life changing price. I was blinded. There were no permanent scars from the shattered glass, I had five stitches in my forehead near the hairline which was barely noticeable.
This was when the true color of my ex, Darren, came out. He dumped me after he found out that I was blind. He clearly didn’t hear the part where I just needed the right cornea match and then I would regain my sight. Maybe he chose not to hear it. This was a man that I thought I would settle down with. So much for that. As one could imagine, I was still hurting from the break up. But nevermind him, I promised myself that I deserved better and the self-pitying was done and over. This story wasn’t about my awful ex.
“Snow, I hope I’m not boring you. I told you it would take dedication and hard work to get back to 100%.” Timothy’s hands were on the small of my back and I could feel the heat from his body exciting every part of me.
“I just got finished ending a two-year relationship. I probably would’ve stayed with him had it not been for the accident.” Why did I just volunteer that? I could smell Timothy’s musty sweat and I wanted to get my hands on him.
“I can’t say I know what that’s like. For some reason, I haven’t been able to keep a relationship more than a weekend of marathon sex.” Tim emphasized the words “marathon sex” with this devilish grin on his face.
“Hmm.” I had my best poker face on. My sex life with Darren was non-existent toward the end of our relationship. It would have been over six months since I last had sex. So a weekend of sizzling marathon sex caught my attention.
“There’s no reason to show judgement in your eyes. Variety is the spice of life.” I wasn’t judging. Tim was putting the moves on me and usually, I shut him down before he could get close enough to make the temptation too hard to resist.
Those black spandex shorts did very little to prevent me from feeling the length of his arousal nestled between my buns. His hot breath on the back of my neck sent signals to a certain region of my anatomy. He was well put together, but not muscle-bound and freakish. His muscles were more toned and formed to accentuate the positives.
“I’ve heard the rumors of your conquests and I’ve often wondered if they were exaggerated.” I lay back on the bench and exerted enough pressure to lift the weight straight up into the air.
From my vantage point, I was eye level with his crotch and I lost my breath when he flexed it for my amusement. I didn’t think it was at its full potential, but I knew of interesting ways to make it rise like an unfurling flag.
“Snow, this breakup might have been the best thing for you. It’s a crying shame to waste all of that on one man.” We were friends and flirting was a part of the dance.
Timothy was a young man with his whole life ahead of him. His strict diet and exercise regiment had turned him into eye candy for those cougars looking for their cub. He was 20-years-old and still sowing his wild oats. He
had been a fascination and fantasy for quite some time. I used his image in various states of undress during those late nights I was alone in my bed.
“You’re only saying that to get into my pants.” I was 5’4 and 120 pounds with a kind of curves to bring many potential suitors. I lost 20 pounds from my many pity parties and dinner consisted of chocolate, chips and ice cream binges. What could I say, I was heartbroken and blinded, and the best part was that there was no need to cook these three goodies.
My hair was the first thing anybody noticed. I had recently dyed my long black locks to platinum blonde. It went with my moniker of Snow White. I was also ready to test out the idea of having more fun as a blonde. I was skeptical but it was time for a change nonetheless.
My breakup had brought with it the chance to change my outlook on casual sex. I was never much for one night stands, but testing the waters with different men was definitely something to think about. It was time to shake things up and do something unpredictable.
“I’ve always wanted to get into your pants, but you made it painfully clear from the moment we started working together things had to stay platonic.”
I was contemplating if I should say something but I chickened out. Was I ready for this marathon sex?
“I’ve seen an amazing improvement and you’ve lost inches off your waist and your wrist is getting better slowly.” Timothy was a slave driver with shoulders capable of carrying me effortlessly into the bedroom.
“I doubt my sister would recognize me. I’ve never been one to take chances. Having my life flash before my eyes was an eye-opening experience.” It had been two weeks since packing all my stuff and moving in with my best friend Lindsay. I was lucky to have someone I know to share an apartment with. Rent in Manhattan was too much to stomach on one salary.
I had a few devices to bring me pleasure, but nothing beat the real thing. A flesh and blood man with the proper equipment to get the job done was exactly what I was craving.