Delilah's Diary #3: Sexy Surrender (Erotic Romance) by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder [Wilder, Jasinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

June 28

I decided to leave the previous entry's ending the way it is. It's cute, I think.

I'm sitting on a beach on the west coast of Italy. I don't know the name of this quaint little town with the picturesque ruins on the bluff and the stone buildings that have known the chatter of villagers since before America saw the trod of European feet.

I took a train here to get some time to think and make some clear-headed decisions.

It's too easy to think with my body and my heart when I'm with him. My mind and my logic get pushed aside, and if I'm going to make a rational decision, I need to get away from the potent, heady drug that is Luca.

But he isn't a drug, is he? He doesn't alter my mind, or change me. He turns me into who I truly am. I'm carefree with him, unfettered and liberated and full of life. His family is so loving, so generous, so welcoming, that I feel them to be more truly my family than my own blood back in the States.

My father is cold and judgmental, quick to hand down ultimatums and hard-nosed demands, slow to affection, spare with praise and compliments. Mother is the same, but more passive aggressive, willing to wait and watch and gather evidence against you, and then strike when the moment is right. She's tactical.

Leah is Miss Perfect. Straight A's, effortlessly. Captain of the cheer squad, debate team, Vice President of the student council three years in a row, popular, fun, skinny. Married a stable, caring man, after a short engagement, had kids, got a house with an actual, factual white picket fucking fence. Pretended life was spiffy and perfect, like she always has. And then she fucks my husband.

Not that I'm bitter.

I can't see Elisabetta sleeping with Lucia's husband. It just wouldn't happen. Not ever.

It's funny, I can barely remember the States. I'm speaking in Italian more and more. It hasn't shown through in this diary, I'm realizing, since I've stopped transcribing the Italian, except where it pops up when someone is speaking English. I had a dream in Italian. I called out Luca's name during sex, and instead of "yes, yes, yes," I said "si, si, si."

Even now, I'm thinking I'm ready to go home, and the image that pops into my head is the house in Firenze, filled with light and laughter and love. And Luca. I can see myself in Firenze, in a little flat not far from Domenica and Dante's house. There would be flowers in a planter on the window, wash hanging to dry in the age-old way, a checked table cloth on a round table in the kitchen, a candle-holder fashioned from an old wine bottle.

There might even someday be a little boy or girl running about the flat, ink black hair and dusky skin and cerulean eyes.

The sun is setting, shedding fiery orange light onto the rippling azure field of the ocean. Gulls caw, children splash in the surf a hundred feet down shore.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.