Overture
by Skye Warren Publication Date: February 19, 2019 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
EXCERPT FROM OVERTURE
Rest, Liam told me.
He’s right about a lot of things.
Maybe he’s right about this. I climb onto the cool pink sheets, hoping that a
nap will suddenly make me content with this quiet little life.
Even though I know it won’t.
Besides, I’m too wired to actually
sleep. The white lace coverlet is both delicate and comfy. It’s actually what I
would have picked out for myself, except I didn’t pick it out. I’ve been incapable
of picking anything, of choosing anything, of deciding anything as part of some
deep-seated fear that I’ll be abandoned.
The coverlet, like everything else
in my life, simply appeared.
And the person responsible for
its appearance? Liam North.
I climb under the blanket and
stare at the ceiling. My body feels overly warm, but it still feels good to be
tucked into the blankets. The blankets he picked out for me.
It’s really so wrong to think of
him in a sexual way. He’s my guardian, literally. Legally. And he has never
done anything to make me think he sees me in a sexual way.
This is it. This is the answer.
I don’t need to go skinny dipping
in the lake down the hill. Thinking about Liam North in a sexual way is my fast
car. My parachute out of a plane.
My eyes squeeze shut.
That’s all it takes to see Liam’s
stern expression, those fathomless green eyes and the glint of dark blond whiskers
that are always there by late afternoon. And then there’s the way he touched me.
My forehead, sure, but it’s more than he’s done before. That broad palm on my
sensitive skin.
My thighs press together. They want
something between them, and I give them a pillow. Even the way I masturbate is
small and timid, never making a sound, barely moving at all, but I can’t change
it now. I can’t moan or throw back my head even for the sake of rebellion.
But I can push my hips against
the pillow, rocking my whole body as I imagine Liam doing more than touching my
forehead. He would trail his hand down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder.
Repressed. I’m so repressed it’s
hard to imagine more than that.
I make myself do it, make myself
trail my hand down between my breasts, where it’s warm and velvety soft, where
I imagine Liam would know exactly how to touch me.
You’re so beautiful, he would say. Your breasts are perfect.
Because Imaginary Liam wouldn’t
care about big breasts. He would like them small and soft with pale nipples. That
would be the absolute perfect pair of breasts for him.
And he would probably do
something obscene and rude. Like lick them.
My hips press against the pillow,
almost pushing it down to the mattress, rocking and rocking. There’s not
anything sexy or graceful about what I’m doing. It’s pure instinct. Pure need.
The beginning of a climax wraps
itself around me. Claws sink into my skin. There’s almost certain death, and
I’m fighting, fighting, fighting for it with the pillow clenched hard.
“Oh fuck.”
The words come soft enough
someone else might not hear them. They’re more exhalation of breath, the
consonants a faint break in the sound. I have excellent hearing. Ridiculous,
crazy good hearing that had me tuning instruments before I could ride a bike.
My eyes snap open, and there’s
Liam, standing there, frozen. Those green eyes locked on mine. His body
clenched tight only three feet away from me. He doesn’t come closer, but he
doesn’t leave.
Orgasm breaks me apart, and I cry
out in surprise and denial and relief. “Liam.”
It goes on and on, the terrible
pleasure of it. The wrenching embarrassment of coming while looking into the
eyes of the man who raised me for the past six years.
About Skye Warren
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat.
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