Ella Frank Brooke Blaine
Illusions — we all create them.
For some it’s to project an impressive image to a prospective employer; for others it’s to attract the eye of another.
My illusion is a bit more...complicated.
Years in the making, my secret has the potential to bite me in the ass. And not in the way I typically enjoy.
As women, we’re judged for reveling in the same carnal pleasures that men do, but I’ve never been shy about my voracious appetite.
Now, I’m under no illusions that I’ll find love with any of my one night stands.
After all, I have one rule — no repeats — but it’s a rule that’s becoming harder to follow since Evan James came back into my life.
Did I say back into my life?
My name is Reagan Spencer, and you may think you know me, but...
How well do we really know anyone?
“Walk with me?” Evan asked.
She gave him a small smile and nodded. “Sure.”
Pushing off the rail, she fell in step with him as they walked along the river’s
“I’d be scared of what you’d see if you looked at me through your lens,” he
Evan scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t imagine there’s much
“You’d be surprised at what I see.”
That comment had him coming to a standstill. “Would I?”
“Okay,” he said, and started walking again. “Tell me what you see.”
Reagan slid her thumbs down the straps of her camera and cocked her head,
looking him over.
“I see a successful man. One who dresses well, even on a Saturday morning. So
that would indicate to me that he takes pride in his appearance. Maybe cares about what
others think also. The fact that you were leaving a therapist’s office makes me think
you’re a man with some issues, but also a man who is willing to work through them.
Again, that comes back to pride. You seem to be able to swallow yours when need be.”
Evan’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing as she continued.
“You also have a certain…air about you. It’s in the way you move. You’re
confident, but at the same time, when you flash that smile, the arrogance disappears, and
you look like the boy you used to be.”
The smile under discussion appeared, and Evan asked, “How do you know what
kind of boy I used to be?”
“Hey? This is my story,” Reagan reminded him before he continued asking
questions she wasn’t willing to answer.
“Oh, my apologies, I somehow thought it involved me.”
“It does, but you’re on the outside listening, so shh. You asked, remember?”
With a serious face, he nodded. “You would be right.”
“Okay. Now I lost my train of thought.”
Evan chuckled. “Well, it’s probably for the best that you didn’t mention any of
my unappealing attributes.”
“Speaking of…” she said, and turned to walk backward, facing him. “How did the therapy session go today?”
“Really great. There was an orgy, a sampling of sex toys, and a dessert buffet
afterward. Very satisfying.”
He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “It was fine. It’s always
fine. Today, Dr. Glover brought up behavior triggers, and it helped to figure out where
this whole mess started.”
Curious, she asked, “And where was that?”
“It wasn’t any one event. It was the high off the power I got from my job, it was
being in an unhealthy relationship…my grandparents passing…the worry about
following in my parents’ footsteps. The further things spiraled out of my control, the
more I craved that control in other parts of my life. Well, a very specific part of my life.”
He glanced over at her before continuing. “Obviously that’s the condensed version, but…I think it helps. Knowing those things and hopefully being able to stop them in the future.”
But the urge isn’t gone?”
The look in his eyes was haunted as he replied, “No. No, it isn’t gone.”
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