Hush Money: A Billionaire Age Gap Romance by Ava Ryan

Author:Ava Ryan [Ryan, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ava Ryan
Published: 2024-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TAMSYN

Something pricks my consciousness, demanding that I wake up. I groan and roll over, burrowing deeper under the covers because it’s the dead of night. The last thing I want to do right now is wake up. But I wouldn’t mind a snuggle. So I reach out for the heat of Lucien’s body lying next to me, wrapping my arm around his waist and gliding my leg over his.

Only this body is too small to be Lucien. Too soft. Too curvy. And all this flowing hair—God, it’s so silky and smells like the sophisticated and expensive shampoo that I could never afford at Sephora—definitely doesn’t belong to Lucien. I register all these facts with distant puzzlement, but no alarm. I’m way too languid for that. A warm body is a warm body, and this is still a good fit even if I’ve never been attracted to women before. So we lie there together for a perfect moment, my palm circling lower on her belly and her ass rubbing against my lap.

Until the owner of this delicious body lets out a breathy sigh and turns within the circle of my limbs, facing me with eyes that are unnaturally bright in the faint moonlight filtering in through the blinds.

It’s Ravenna.

It’s a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. “Ravenna?” I say with more of that distant puzzlement. “What are you doing here?”

Those eyes crinkle at the edges, a smile without smiling. “I’m always with you, Tamsyn.” Her voice sounds so soothing. So safe. “Don’t you know that?”

That’s when the smile comes, a humorless stretching and widening of those lush lips until her jeering face⁠—

I cry out, jerking myself awake and scrambling upright until my back thumps against the headboard. Then confusion sets in. A pounding heart. Uncatchable breath. Prickling skin. Aching nipples and pussy. Frustrated desire.

Was that…was that a dream? Was I dreaming about something?

Was I dreaming about…Ravenna? Was I dreaming then? Or am I dreaming now?

I’m still waiting for answers when I hear a sound. My bleary brain takes a minute to process and analyze what’s going on. I listen harder, and there it is again. Angry voices somewhere outside. I frown into the darkness. Until I hear the roar of a powerful engine, the screech of tires and see the shocking slash of headlights as they slice through the filmy curtains at my bedroom window.

I stiffen, my heart thumping with dread. I’m awake now. Definitely and irrevocably awake. By the time I click on the light and slip on my flip-flops without bothering to throw a robe over my tank top and knit shorts, my dread is tiptoeing along the edge of panic. Ackerley in the middle of the night is isolated and forbidding enough already. The last thing we need around here is omens of more disturbing stuff to come.

I hear more angry voices as I hurry to the front door. A smarter woman would take a second to peek out the window and survey the scene before she flies outside.

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