THREE NIGHTS (Complete)

THREE NIGHTS

Three Nights

Book 1

By Rain Rose

Published by Rain Rose

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

Copyright © 2023. Rain Rose. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

Explicit Content 18+

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

STOP

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

I CAN'T STOP

Chapter 1

STOP

"May I kiss you?" he asks, his voice a notch above a whisper.

As long as I live, I swear, I will never forget the way he spoke those four words. I was familiar with his mellow-raspy tone but when he opened his mouth to greet me this time, it gave a heat that immediately rouse my sweat glands.

He studies my face. His eyes are striking. Deep-set, tawny brown and flawless like the stones in—my engagement ring! Dammit! I forgot to take it off with all the rushing this morning. I fiddle with my fingers and inconspicuously slide it off, into my handbag.

I smile and swallow nervously, as my lungs fall lazy and suddenly I've forgotten how to breathe. He asks me one simple question and things are already going left.

Dear God, please tell me he doesn't notice my irrational meltdown.

I stretch out my arms to hug him and answer his question indirectly. He returns the hug and kisses me softly on my cheek.

In through your nose, out through your mouth Savannah, I tell myself still unable to find my voice. The communication part of my brain has pretty much turned into a cluster of nervous butterflies. If I open my mouth, I'm afraid they'll all fly out and end me.

He's searching my eyes and brushes his finger across my cheek. A charge of electricity shoots through my body. His warm hands cup my face and draw me in so close I can feel his breath. I close my eyes and his pillowy lips cushion mine. Delicately—but potently—he sends me to a place I never knew I could be; a place I never dared wish to explore. Not now. Not with him—because subconsciously I knew, if such a wish dared come true, it would take me to a point of no return and lives would undoubtedly be changed - forever.

Entranced in his kiss, all I can hear is the drum beat of my heart banging in my chest, I'm no longer aware of the hustle, and bustle around us or even that I'm in an airport. Lawrence breaks away from our kiss and presses his lips into my hair. Guilt churns in my belly. God! What the hell is happening? I need to get away to pull myself together.

I come back to earth and my eyes dart frantically around the airport in search of a lady's room. Lawrence draws me into his chest as if he's aware something's wrong. I feel so freaking high right now. Like helium with extra shit. Weightless, heavy, thrilled, and terrified all at the same time. I also feel like the laughing stock of the universe, as it continues to perpetuate my already messed up situation.

Lawrence pinches my chin gingerly between his thumb and index finger, tilting my head upwards so I can't help but look inside his eyes. As my gaze gets lost inside his, I realize something dreadfully clear. I'm in love.

"Is everything all right Savannah?"

I swallow hard, "Mhmm..." I lie and start nibbling my lower lip.

He grins a glorious grin and steps back to take a good look at me.

"It's really good to see you like this. Face-to-face, in person." He cocks his head to the side. "You're even more..." flushing, he runs a hand over his low haircut. "Even more beautiful in person."

I blush, and fiddle with the tangle of bracelets on my wrist, pretending not to appear overly flattered by his compliment. The last time I heard such sincere words about my looks was from my father. His eyebrows, thick and prominent frame his chiselled face perfectly. Every inch of him is screaming sensuality, and every inch of me is losing control I didn't realize I should have packed with me. He's dressed like a model, casually chic in a white collared shirt, the two top buttons undone, black pants and a pair of extremely white Prada sneakers—with no socks. God, I love a man in shoes with no socks. He's physically fit with a rock-star swagger. He's 35 year old Lawrence Prescott—and me...I'm weak and way over my head.

I spot a sign that says washrooms.

"Excuse me, while I powder my nose," I exhale irritably, patting his forearm and rushing as far out of his proximity as possible.

"Let me walk you." I feel him prowling behind me, and slow down reluctantly.

In the lady's room, I dash toward the sink area and turn on the water to fake wash my hands. I look at the image in the mirror and try not to cry. I was staring at the face of a liar. A cheater. Or even worse—a selfish, heartbreaker. Had I made the biggest mistake of my life coming here? The list I wrote on my flight down swims circles through my head.

Trip objective:

Strictly, platonic.

Keep my word to Lawrence and grant him his wish to see me in person.

Tell him the whole truth.

Do touristy stuff

Thank Lawrence for his friendship.

Terminate relationship.

Return home.

This trip is time sensitive, I have to stick to the plan. My wedding is only a week away and I can't screw that up now—after all, it's what I asked for. I splash cold water on my face, re-apply my lip gloss, and exit the lady's room. Lawrence is standing right outside waiting for me, his head cocked to one side and that spectacular grin still plastered across his face.

"Everything good?" he asks.

"I'm good, thanks."

Oh God, he's touching me again. The cold metal of his silver rings against my neck sends goosebumps down my spine.

"Can I kiss you again Sav—"

"---Yes," I reply before he can finish, defying my heavy, hovering conscience. I close my eyes again, allowing him to pull me back into the warmth of his mouth, and dissolve zealously into his soft lips.

He breaks away gently. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again.

"Mhmm," I reply, nodding my head, charmed by his thoughtfulness. He leans into my mouth, and our tongues tangle in a long, fluid kiss. He smells delicious and tastes delicious, like toffee and cream. I crave him and want more. I'm addicted. Without a doubt—because I can't stop.

Seeing him here now, with all the physical boundaries between us gone, has provoked the raging tsunami that has been simmering inside of me for so long. How can I refuse the touch of his lips pressed against mine? His hand tenderly gripping the nape of my neck, and the explosive reaction of my body to his touch? How can I stop myself from slipping my arms around his shoulders, sifting my fingers through his soft haze of brown hair, and sucking the juice from his lips? I can't, it's impossible. So I won't stop. All that matters now, is this right here. Making out at Gate 3, in London's Gatwick Airport with Lawrence Prescott. God, I'm so screwed!