I was always a fan of trashy romance novels. I suppose all women need that little bit of imaginative spice in their lives; that heart pounding, bliss-inducing electricity these stories always describe. One part fiction, one part real life. My attempt at that dabbling with that romance novel vibe.
” What’s life without a little risk”? he whispered She begged him to go but as he drew nearer her heart slammed against her chest I hate everything about you she taunted He drew her nearer and she quivered as if she was haunted She lost all her reasoning as he gently sampled her lips Heat flooded her body as his kisses grew more intense Piercing and electric His touch was her kryptonite He persisted, she resisted He not only ravished her body but he lay claim to part of soulful essence that night.
She found solace in the hurt She wore the scars of past wounds like a badge of honor It’s so ironic how thoughts can do so much damage She convinced herself being alone was for the best Not willing to take the risk of another plaster being ripped from the walls of her soul Being crazy in love did not become her Commitment phobia or maybe it was paranoia He was getting closer to unlocking the chains around her heart Maybe the feelings would go away if she ignored them She feared to be vulnerable; it seems love always left her feeling broken, winded and knocked off her feet Her head said no but with every beat of her heart she longed to own him Yearning for somewhere to run and hide Old familiar pangs of wanting and longing to have someone by her side Should she risk the gamble? A timid, bruised and battered heart torn between the comfort of the past and the new story she was so afraid to write.