Strawberry Kisses Phavy Prieto (bookstand for reading TXT) 📖

that was opened on both sides. The way the two rooms were harmonized in the same space was spectacular. Beyond the bookcase there was a big sofa for at least seven people in front of a coffee table, and in one of the walls there was a small fireplace underneath a wide ultra-thin wall-mounted TV. Yes, it was definitely an apartment that could appear in some design magazines.

"It's amazing," I whispered looking at the sunset in the horizon.

"Great. Now I know you're going to like the place when you move here."

Did I hear that right? No, no, no, no...

Chapter XIV

"To move in?" I said in a high-pitched voice, the same voice that I used as a child to declare my innocence when my mother rebuked me for having eaten half of the cake, while I had chocolate all over my face. Then my mother decided to make only apple and raisin pies so I wouldn't even touch it.

"Didn't I tell you?" he asked as calmly as someone who says 'I'm going out for a minute to buy bread'.

That man drove me crazy and upset me at the same time. How could he deal with such a topic so lightly?

"If we want to make this work without raising any suspicion, the most logical thing would be to live together. Otherwise it will look strange to get married without having lived in the same house before."

"Instead this wouldn't be strange at all. Imagine for a moment if I was one of those deeply religious girls who want to get married still being a virgin," I replied nervously.

To come and live here would be my perdition.

"You?" he said looking me straight in the eye with a hint of a smile. "Even dressed up as a nun, as you did at that restaurant, you couldn't look like one of those girls. The fire in your eyes betrays you. Not to mention how your body quivers every time I get close to you," he whispered with that smile that made me literally melt. "That option is not valid anymore after our weekend in Scotland."

Shit! That was true.

"Okay, but how can I come and live here so suddenly?" I asked as if I were seriously considering to move in.

"It will only be temporary. In a couple of weeks all this will be over and we will pretend to have argued. I think we understand each other very well and there is some chemistry between us. I am sure we'll be good friends," he replied with a wink.

I was disoriented. What should I reply to that proposal?

No, I'm sorry, but I also have my little heart and I would be grateful if others did not come and crush it like an ant.

The truth was that my little head was already making lists of what I should or should not put in the suitcase from the moment he offered to move in. That only meant one thing: that I would accept.

"When should I move in?" I asked with resignation.

In the end, whether I wanted to or not, who would dare to refuse Adonis every night? Of course, not me. Even if I had to pick up the remains of what would be left of me when everything was over.

He was hesitant as if he didn't know what to reply. I crossed my arms impatiently.

"What about tomorrow?" he said nonchalantly. "You know, my mother invited herself to dinner and..."

"Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow?" I screamed. I felt it was a trap, a plot in which I had fallen like a fly in a spider web. "Damn you!" I huffed, realizing it was all intentional.

"Okay, I admit it," he whispered, clasping his hands as if trying to apologize. "I thought that if I told you all at once, you would send me to hell, and for a good reason. So I figured it was better to tell you little by little."

"Actually, I'm still thinking about it," I replied, biting my lip.

Surprisingly, his ensuing laughter managed to subdue the anger that pervaded me. Deep down, I couldn't get angry with that poor beautiful creature. Besides, I could take the opportunity to congratulate his mother for creating something so majestic. The question wasn't if I were willing to do that huge favour for him, but how devastated I would be once that play was over.

I had to be honest and stop hesitating. I liked Damian Devoir. I was attracted to him in an extraordinary, unprecedented way and he was definitely a god in bed. So I didn't have to be very lucid to know that the more time I spent with him, the more I would find myself involved. And if I added to this that constantly bumping into him at the office would remind me of what I could never have, the situation I was getting into was dangerous, very dangerous.

On the other hand, there was the possibility of focusing exclusively on the moments in which I would enjoy that sculptured body until our expiration date came. I was going to immerse myself every night in an orgasm abyss that would leave me with pleasant memories, even if they could turn bitter over time. If all ended well and by mutual agreement, we could also keep in touch for some occasional intimate encounter, right? Okay, that was a remote possibility, but still.

"Well, don't kill me if I tell you that I mentioned you were an excellent cook," he confessed, covering his face with one hand as if he were afraid I would slap him.

"Excellent cook? I'm not even capable of cooking an omelette!" I exclaimed with my eyes popping out of their sockets. "It's easier to see a donkey flying than a good tortilla made by me," I huffed.

"Ok, don't worry," he raised his hands in his defense. "We'll