Craving The Forbidden Touch
img img Craving The Forbidden Touch img Chapter 3 Three
3
Chapter 11 Eleven img
Chapter 12 Twelve img
Chapter 13 Thirteen img
Chapter 14 Fourteen img
Chapter 15 Fifteen img
Chapter 16 Sixteen img
Chapter 17 Seventeen img
Chapter 18 Eighteen img
Chapter 19 Nineteen img
Chapter 20 Twenty img
Chapter 21 Twenty one img
Chapter 22 Twenty two img
Chapter 23 Twenty three img
Chapter 24 Twenty four img
Chapter 25 Twenty five img
Chapter 26 Twenty six img
Chapter 27 Twenty seven img
Chapter 28 Twenty eight img
Chapter 29 Twenty nine img
Chapter 30 Thirty img
Chapter 31 Thirty one img
Chapter 32 Thirty two img
Chapter 33 Thirty three img
Chapter 34 Thirty four img
Chapter 35 Thirty five img
Chapter 36 Thirty six img
Chapter 37 Thirty seven img
Chapter 38 Thirty eight img
Chapter 39 Thirty nine img
Chapter 40 Forty img
Chapter 41 Forty one img
Chapter 42 Forty two img
Chapter 43 Forty three img
Chapter 44 Forty four img
Chapter 45 Forty five img
Chapter 46 Forty six img
Chapter 47 Forty seven img
Chapter 48 Forty eight img
Chapter 49 Forty nine img
Chapter 50 Fifty img
Chapter 51 Fifty one img
Chapter 52 Fifty two img
Chapter 53 Fifty three img
Chapter 54 Fifty four img
Chapter 55 Fifty five img
Chapter 56 Fifty six img
Chapter 57 Fifty seven img
Chapter 58 Fifty eight img
Chapter 59 Fifty nine img
Chapter 60 Sixty img
Chapter 61 Sixty one img
Chapter 62 Sixty two img
Chapter 63 Sixty three img
Chapter 64 Sixty four img
Chapter 65 Sixty five img
Chapter 66 Author Ending Note img
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Chapter 3 Three

Isla knew she should have ignored the call.

She should have silenced her phone, turned away, and buried herself in work or mindless distractions. But the second Damian's voice had spilled through the speaker, deep and smooth like dark velvet, she had been caught.

Now, she sat on the edge of her bed, gripping the phone too tightly, her heart hammering in her chest.

"I'm not done with you, Isla."

The words replayed in her mind, wrapping around her like an invisible chain, pulling her back into the orbit of the one man she had spent years trying to avoid.

She swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. "You made it clear that last night meant nothing."

A low chuckle vibrated through the phone. "Did I?"

Her pulse skipped.

Damian had always played this game-pushing, pulling, making her question everything. And damn him, he was good at it.

"I'm not doing this," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"You already are." His voice was calm, self-assured, as if he knew exactly how tightly he was woven into her thoughts.

Isla squeezed her eyes shut, frustration mixing with something darker, something she wasn't ready to name. "Why did you call, Damian?"

A pause. Then, his voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Her breath caught.

He wasn't supposed to say things like that. Not when she was trying so hard to convince herself that last night had been a mistake.

But wasn't that the problem?

It didn't feel like a mistake.

It felt like something inevitable.

She hesitated, pressing her lips together. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Pretend you care."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. For a moment, she thought he might end the call, might let her walk away.

But then he exhaled, the sound laced with something unreadable.

"You think I don't?"

Isla's fingers tightened around the phone. "I think you're playing with me."

A low, bitter laugh. "Is that what you think of me?"

She wanted to say yes. Wanted to believe that this was nothing more than a game to him, that he would get bored and move on like he always did.

But deep down, she knew better.

Damian Sinclair didn't chase.

Yet here he was, calling her when he should have been the one to forget first.

"I don't know what to think anymore," she admitted, hating how raw she sounded.

Another pause. Then, in a voice so quiet it sent a shiver down her spine, he said, "Meet me."

Her stomach flipped. "No."

"Isla-"

"No, Damian." She stood abruptly, pacing her room. "Last night happened, and it was... it was what it was. But I'm not going to let you pull me into something that will only end badly."

A beat of silence.

Then-

"I'll pick you up in an hour."

Her eyes widened. "Damian-"

The line went dead.

She stared at her phone, disbelief and frustration warring inside her.

That arrogant, insufferable-

A knock at the door made her jump.

She froze, heart pounding.

It couldn't be.

Slowly, she walked to the door, every step making her pulse hammer harder against her ribs. When she pulled it open, her breath caught in her throat.

Damian.

Dressed in all black, his tailored coat falling perfectly against his broad frame, he looked every bit as dangerous as he felt.

He leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"You answered."

She swallowed, gripping the edge of the door. "I didn't invite you."

"You didn't have to."

His gaze roamed over her, slow and deliberate, taking in the oversized sweater she had thrown on and the way her hair was still messy from sleep.

Something dark flickered in his eyes.

"You weren't planning on seeing me tonight," he murmured.

"No," she admitted.

A ghost of a smile. "Then why haven't you shut the door?"

Isla clenched her jaw, but the truth was, she didn't know.

Because despite everything-despite knowing that Damian Sinclair was the last man she should ever let back into her life-she couldn't make herself walk away.

Not yet.

Not when the air between them crackled with something too strong to ignore.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve, a barely-there touch that sent heat spiraling through her.

"Come with me."

She hesitated. "Where?"

"You'll find out."

She should say no. She needed to say no.

But instead, she exhaled shakily and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

Because the truth was, she had already lost this battle the moment she had answered his call.

            
            

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