Home > Work > The Red Ledger: Part 1
1 " desire. Heat and music and the ebb and flow of revelers create an undeniable pulse of excitement. It exists in the balmy ocean air, settles on my skin, and sizzles against my nerve endings. "
― Meredith Wild , The Red Ledger: Part 1
2 " What are you trying to say?” “I’ve been staring at you in that dress all night. And right now, I’m willing to do just about anything to have a couple hours alone with you.” With his soft brown eyes, he rakes me in, betraying his desire. He’s smooth-shaven with lightly tanned skin. His short, dirty-blond hair has grown out just enough "
3 " flash in my mind. Full lips mark my skin, and then the memory takes me away. In my mind, I’m pinned under hard thrusts that threaten to shatter my body and my heart. Reckless lust and love I want so hard to believe was pure. A rush of desire hits me. I gasp and answer Kolt’s persistent groping with an infinitesimal shift in my hips. With a hungry growl, he pushes me back against the rough stucco of my building. My eyes open to his perfectly chiseled features. I turn my head, disconnecting our mouths. Undeterred, he latches on to my neck instead. “Kolt…not tonight.” He hitches the tight fabric of my "
4 " Kolt’s American accent stands out in the cacophony of the open-air bar. I don’t need another drink. The alcohol from the few caipirinhas I’ve already had flows through my bloodstream, making me horny and impulsive. I meet his gaze and consider where I want the night to go. “We have to work tomorrow.” I’m not sure if that will discourage him, though. “Then maybe "
5 " has grown out just enough to curl naturally at the ends—as close to rugged as he’ll ever look. I swirl the ice in my glass. “A couple hours?” He rests his hand on my lower back and presses his "
6 " shaky year in grad school. Kolt’s on vacation from his life. It’s been six months. In another six, he’ll go back to it, and I know as surely as I know my own name that he intends to bring me back with him. I tick off all "
7 " boxes. We have chemistry. If we both ignored my inability to love him, I could fit into his life nicely. He’s rich and driven, and every time he looks at me, I know what he sees. A pretty fuck. A prize to be won. A match. But I’m not on vacation. I’m running away. The urge to thrust myself into a future unknown was so powerful, it landed me in Rio. In the center of this chaos is exactly where I want to be—until I can find the truth. But the truth is like this overwhelming place. It’s much easier to get lost "
8 " my muscles, feeling foolish and broken all over again. He doesn’t love me anymore. I’m so far "
9 " beating faster, momentarily overwhelming the sensations of the celebration around us. I’m mourning the decision to leave the festivities the second we turn onto the quieter Rua Lopes Quintas. Shadows play in my periphery as we head toward my "