One Bride for Five Mountain Men: A Reverse Harem Romance by Jess Bentley

One Bride for Five Mountain Men: A Reverse Harem Romance by Jess Bentley

Author:Jess Bentley [Bentley, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-03T16:00:00+00:00


My heart is racing. I don’t know what to say, or what to do. I’m filled with terror, anger, rage. Oh my God, I’m going to puke. I push myself out of the booth and race to the bathroom, and I’m kneeling in front of the white porcelain, when the few bites of pie and the coffee I drank spill noisily into it.

My head is swimming. I grab some toilet paper and wipe my mouth, throw it in the bowl and flush. I stand up and stars float around my head. I grab the counter to steady myself. My face is white. I look ghoulish in this false light. My eyes are sunken and dark.

My chest is rising and falling rapidly, and I try to slow down my breathing. I don’t want to faint here in this bathroom. It’s disgusting for one thing. But at least it’s private, my brain reminds me.

Something you haven’t had for years. Privacy.

Holy shit.

Every moment I’ve been in my room, I’ve been watched. Not by one person, but potentially thousands. Hundreds of thousands. My face burns as I think of the embarrassing things I’ve done. Things we’ve all done when we thought we were alone. Images flash through my mind: I’m masturbating, crying out; I’m trying on clothes, pinching my fat roll, or oh God, in the bathroom, number two, my period. Showering. It’s horrifying. Why would people pay so much money to see that? And a quarter million has to be only the tip of the iceberg. Kelsey had lots of new clothes, lots of money when she needed it, and of course, her Karmann Ghia. That had to cost a lot. How could I have gone so long being a patsy to her schemes, and not even know it? Why would I put my trust so completely in another person and have them take complete and utter advantage of me?

Again I think of King.

It’s not him, it’s me. I’m the kind of person who attracts this. Who trusts too much, who believes what people tell them. I’m alone, I’m something to take advantage of. I don’t have anyone, and I never did.

I feel the urge to throw up again and as I turn to the stall, it’s already shooting out of my mouth. I’m projectile vomiting. Great.

The poor waitress.

It goes mostly in the toilet and I stab futilely at what didn’t with a balled up bit of toilet paper. My stomach churns like the bowl’s contents as I think of what on earth I should do now. I guess the feeling that I was separate from other people, that I couldn’t do anything without Kelsey was partly from other people and the way that they treated me. Who knows if any of them knew? Could my teachers have known? My classmates must have.

I remember someone calling me a slut, and I didn’t know why. But it must have been after I snuck my boyfriend of the time in my room and had sex with him.



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