Oblivion: Surrender Read Online Free Page A

options with me. If my boss does not steal my sanity for too long, that is. I bite my bottom lip and mentally slap myself at the same time. Alyson, this is your boss. I shake my head at the direction of my thoughts. A delicious meal and a tall glass of Pinot Noir are what I need right to relieve today’s occurrences.
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
     
    D inner with Ferdinand and Juliette went great. Instead of settling for plain old burgers, we decided to dine at a local steakhouse with some of the best cuts around. I’m grateful I didn’t have much time to think. When we arrive home, I thank my sister for inviting me. “We should go out to eat more often.” I tease. Juliette’s eyes get big. “You eat for all three of us, and you have nothing to show for it.” She ruefully gazes at Ferdinand.
    “We are naturally curvy.” I remind her. Thank mom for that.
    “She has a man’s appetite.” Ferdinand hands me the bag of takeout food we got for tomorrow’s lunch and embraces her from behind. He has a smug look on his face. “Don’t worry about the peach, Juliette. From now on we can blame her internship for any sudden changes in her weight.” Ugh! My face scrunches up. Ferdinand’s hit the nail in the right place. I hadn’t thought about Carter during the entire dinner. My lower stomach flutters viciously.
    I hate that his logic is almost always shamefully accurate with me. Then again, he is my best friend for a reason: Ferdinand is the only one who knows every single thing about me.  He knows the secrets I vowed to hide from Juliette, has seen my ups and downs and witnessed how low I’d fallen with my erratic behavior.
    Juliette is cackling at my frozen reaction. “You’re probably right honey. Ali’s boss is a tyrant! A good looking one I hope.” Dammit to hell! Ferdinand and I hold our gaze for a second and I feel the color melt from my face. Crap. He’s figured me out. “Are you feeling okay, Ali? You look pale.” Juliette extends her hand to touch my forehead.
    While she is distracted, Ferdinand discreetly shrugs his shoulders in ques tion at me. “I’m fine just exhausted. I’m going to bed.” I wrap my arms around my sister, and mimic a telephone gesture, pleading him not to question me. He hesitates for a second and finally nods. I mouth a thank you and rush to fix this situation once and for all.
    In my bedroom, I make haste with my clothes. I kick my flats under the bed and place my blouse and slacks on a chair for future laundry. My hands reach back to find the hook to my lace bra, and I breathe in relief as my breasts bounce gently, content to be free from their confinement. I don’t remove the matching panties—yet. In the last drawer of my dresser, is the luscious vibrator which I also remove from its hiding spot and throw it on the bed. It is calling me.
    My breathing is already coming in short gasps. Warm fluid floods my sex, and I feel the stain of a pinky sized spot going through the material of my underwear. The anticipation is apocalyptic. Savage. And as I savor the thrill of masturbating to the sex appeal of Carter Stevenson, a part of me so deep inside punishes this action.
    You’re a sex-freak. A compulsive addict who has the minimum self-control to keep herself safe from harm. And those around me, it adds. The ravaged part of my soul has little compassion for my needs, forcing me to look in the mirror each day and remind myself of what I’ve become: A starving woman with insatiable wants and absolutely nothing else to lose and nothing more to gain.
    Licking my baked lips, I shut out the jealous voice in my head. Removing my panties is now a mere formality. Twisting the vibrator on, I lie on my back and gently pressure it against my clitoris. Whoa, new battery! I quickly pull it away. I can’t help but stifle a giggle. I try again. This time, I gradually measure the amount of pressure until my body is comfortable enough, rotating the vibrator in perfect circles.
    Mmm, it feels