Her Wicked Heart by Ember Casey Read Free Book Online Page B

that more than once I thought I was dying. My whole body would shake, and my breath would stick in my throat until my head grew light and fuzzy.
    Sometimes when that happened, I’d roll over and shake Ian. I’d kiss him as he woke and pull him into my arms. And slowly, his warmth and his touch would bring me back, make me feel safe again.
    But there’s no one here now.
    I toss and turn on my bed. The mattress is too soft for my taste, but honestly, even a nicer bed wouldn’t help much. I have too much on my mind and no one to chase the thoughts away.
    You have to learn to do this on your own , I tell myself. But I feel like I’m going crazy, lying here and trying to calm the thoughts rushing through my brain. My body is exhausted from a day spent cleaning that stupid gift shop, but it’s like my mind is doped up on something. The harder I try to push everything aside, to let it go just for a little while so I can get some rest, the more it clamors for attention.
    I can’t stop thinking about what Ward said today. This house was a status symbol, nothing more. I resented this place as a teenager, for exactly the reason he’s criticizing it now: it’s excessive. I knew it then, and it’s even clearer now. I don’t miss this house as much as I miss everything it represents. The lifestyle. The security. The sense of identity. Everything that made me a Cunningham has been stripped away. Where does that leave me? I’m not the girl I thought I was. And I’m definitely not the selfless, kindhearted girl that the world thinks I am.
    But that’s not the only thing that’s keeping me up. Every time the guilt starts to overwhelm me, my mind leaps to its latest distraction: the memory of Ward’s breath on my face. The feeling of his hands on me. Stupid, infuriating Ward—this is the last thing I need right now.
    But I can’t keep myself from wondering—what would he have done in the gift shop today if I’d called his bluff? If I’d agreed to pick things up where we left off the other day? Would he really have let me pull off his pants? Would he have thrown me down on the table and taken me on top of those ridiculous T-shirts?
    That’s not the real question, though. The real question is would I have gone through with it? I remember the way I froze, caught up in the sensations running through my body. Even now, just thinking about it, there’s a slow throb growing between my legs. It would have been so easy to tell him yes. To let him slide my skirt up over my hips and yank my underwear down. To lean back and spread my thighs for him. To give in to the lust and let him help me forget everything for a little while.
    I let my hand slide down between my legs. My pajama pants are pretty thin, and even the lightest touch against myself through the fabric sends a tremor through my body. I promised myself I’d stay away from men for a while, but that doesn’t mean I can’t satisfy myself. I let a single finger drift along the ridge between my legs. A small sigh escapes my lips. I imagine myself naked on my back, a figure with hard muscles and auburn hair leaning over me…
    No.
    I yank my hand away. I’m not going to let myself fantasize about Ward. Indulging those sorts of thoughts is only encouraging them. I need to get him out of my mind, not get myself more sexually riled up over him. I remind myself of all the things he implied about my family, and that tempers my mood a little.
    I throw off my blanket and climb out of bed. I should stop pretending I’m going to get any sleep tonight. I walk over to the dresser and grab my laptop. I bought this computer when I first left for Thailand, hoping to stay connected with the rest of the world while I was off looking for my purpose. When it was brand new, it was one of the most hi-tech, swankiest laptops on the market, but it’s about five years old now and it takes a good ten minutes to boot up. I draw one knee up to my chest and wait patiently for the startup screen,