Filthy Beautiful Lies(#1#2)

Chapter 37 Sophie



Becca and I spent the rest of the day sightseeing and are currently seated at a quaint little bar, munching on olives and cheese and sipping delicious wine. I still can’t believe Colton and Pace had actually flown to Italy in search of me. And as I sit here, slightly buzzed, I’m replaying our brief intimate encounter in my head.

“I know how you could get rid of it,” Becca says, thoughtfully swirling the wine in her glass.

“What?”

“Your virginity. I mean, if you still want to, that is.”Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“How?” I ask, my mind spinning.

She tips her chin to a group of three cute Italian guys sitting together across the bar. “We could go pick up some hotties.”

I briefly consider this. When in Rome…Why the hell not?

Because I still belong to Colton, that’s why.

Even if I don’t want to, some strange part of me knows it’s true. He should be the one to take my virginity. When I think about his dark, hungry eyes that burn me up, his full mouth kissing my neck, and his thick, long cock, I know it has to be him. My chest flushes with heat and I’m transported right back to the moment earlier when I was right there – right on the edge –just a few more strokes of his fingers and I would have come apart. I always thought I needed a sex toy to get off, it turns out I just needed Colton.

“You’re thinking about him again.” Becca smirks at me.

“I shouldn’t be.”

“But you are.”

***

The remainder of our trip is nearly perfect. Gorgeous summer weather, long afternoons spent wandering the beautiful and seductive city of Rome with my best friend by my side. But my nights are plagued with memories of Colton, though I suppose that’s unavoidable given the situation.

After the first day when he and his brother Pace showed up here unexpectedly, I’ve heard nothing more from him. I’m grateful that I opted not to upgrade my cell phone service to include international calling. I know I wouldn’t be strong enough to continue ignoring him if that were the case. As it is, every morning after breakfast, I have to force myself to walk past the hotel’s one computer in the business center to avoid connecting to my email. The thought that there could be a note from Colton waiting for me weighs heavily on my mind.

As much as I try to convince myself that things are done between us, some part deep inside of me knows that’s not true.


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