mercoledì 13 settembre 2017

Dear Bridget, I want you di Penelope Ward e Vi Keeland - Sneak Peek

Buongiorno a tutti, il terzo post del giorno è lo sneak peek del nuovo romanzo di Penelope Ward e Vi Keeland, I want you, in uscita il 18 Settembre in lingua originale!


Dear Bridget, 
scrivo questa lettera perchè è altamente improbabile che io riesca a raccogliere il coraggio per dirtelo in faccia.
Quindi, eccomi.
Siamo sbagliati l'uno per l'altra. Sei la perfetta madre single con la testa sulle spalle. Io sono solo il dottore inglese di passaggio che vive nel tuo garage mentre aspetta di tornare in Inghilterra.
Ma c'è un problema... per qualche ragione, non riesco a smettere di pensarti in maniera inappropriata. 
Ti voglio. 
L'unica ragione per cui sto ammettendo questo al momento è perchè credo che non sia solo io. Ho visto i tuoi occhi mentre mi guardi. E anche se sembro grossolano quando scherzo con te sul sesso, la mia attrazione non è uno scherzo.
Quindi, qual è l'obiettivo di questa lettera? Credo sia un promemoria del fatto che siamo adulti, che il sesso è salutare e natural e che mi trovi dall'altra parte della porta in cucina. In maniera più specifica, è per farti sapere che sto lasciando la suddetta porta aperta d'ora in poi in caso tu abbia voglia di farmi visita nel bel mezzo della notte. 
Niente domande.
Pensaci.
O non farlo.
Qualsiasi cosa tu scelga.
Dubito anche del fatto che farò mai scivolare questa lettera sotto la tua porta.
No questions asked.

- Simon


 

   
Every time I considered leaving my room, I would grab the framed picture of Ben and stare at it. The urge to go to Simon was so strong; I basically hadn’t put down the framed photo of my deceased husband in an hour. I was lying in my bed, holding a picture of a dead man while fantasizing about one who was very much alive and in the other room. With the door cracked open waiting for me. There was one part of Simon’s note that I just kept reading over and over.
I want to make you come. Hard. I want you to get lost in me and I want to hear you say my name over and over while we fuck.
While we fuck.
While we fuck.
I was pretty sure that Ben had never used the word fuck like that before. Did we even fuck? We made love, sure. Our sex life was normal—at least, I think it was normal. Don’t get me wrong, the passion wasn’t the same as when we first got together. But after ten years, both of us working full time and raising a child, it was normal to have some of the desire dwindle, wasn’t it?
While we fuck.
I looked at the picture of my husband and sighed. We didn’t fuck. Not even in the beginning. And I felt guilty for that now. Maybe we should have been fucking. I certainly didn’t do anything to entice him to want me the last few years. Was it my fault our sex life had gotten boring? I rested the picture of Ben over my heart and laid my hand over it. I could feel my heart beating out of control beneath my fingers.
Shutting my eyes, I tried to force thoughts of Simon from my mind. But it was no use. Visions of his hard, sculpted body hovering over me had infiltrated my brain. So, here I was, a thirty-three-year-old, single mother lying in my bed all alone with a picture of my dead husband held to my heart while I visualized fucking another man.
Fucking.
Not making love.
I needed my head examined.
After two hours and no sleep in sight, I decided the only way I was going to be able to get any rest was if I got everything I was feeling off of my chest. Flicking on the light, I carefully set the framed photo of my beloved Ben on my nightstand and then opened the drawer and dug out a pen and piece of pretty stationery. I would write down my thoughts to clear my mind. I had no intention of actually giving the letter to Simon, so there was no reason to filter anything I said.
Dear Simon…


Cosa ne pensate? Lo leggerete?
Al prossimo post,
Nali <3

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