Chapter 2

• CLAIRE LEBLANC
• "Are you okay?" were the first words I heard from those rosy lips, his body crouching down to be at the same level as mine. "Here... you need this more than I do."
• The blond handed me a white handkerchief after saying that, one with embroidery on the edges, bearing a 'G'.
• "Thank you," I expressed gratitude after taking the handkerchief, only to feel guilty for staining it with my mascara. "I... I'm sorry for this."
• "It's okay, I have about... twenty more of these at home," he said casually, "but... what made you cry? Broken heart?"
• I sighed.
• "How did you guess?" I questioned before blowing my nose.
• "It was just a shot in the dark," he shrugged. "Do you want to talk about it? I promise I'm a great listener, and I won't spread the word."
• I shrugged.
• What did I have to lose at this point?
• "I was cheated on," I spoke bluntly, no longer caring much about my etiquette lessons or the manners I always had to have in society. After all, let's face it... my makeup was smudged, tears were flowing, and my dress was completely scattered on the ground — the garden floor!
• "You?" The blond looked me up and down, an incredulous smile forming on his lips. "The person who was with you really shouldn't be very intelligent."
• "Maybe," I retorted, a sigh escaping my lungs. "But... I also didn't pay much attention to him, apparently, and that ruined our relationship."
• "Was that the lame excuse he gave?" He laughed with clear mockery. "My dear... if he really wanted to keep your relationship, he would have looked for you or found a way for you to have time together, wouldn't he?"
• "I don't know," I huffed. "He just threw all of this in my face, you know? But what guarantees that's even true? Seriously! He knew I had my plans, my ambitions, and he didn't care about any of that while he was screwing my friend!"
• "Good Lord, this is getting more cliché by the minute," he mocked. "Was she your best friend, or just a friend? Just curious."
• "Do I look like someone who has best friends?" I buried my face in my hands. "And actually, I think I have no one."
• Damn it.
• I was feeling that again.
• That emptiness in my chest, and that thought that I had no one to count on, and that no one in my life... was really there for me.
• "That's a sad thing to say..." He seemed distressed as he spoke, as if he were genuinely empathizing with my being (for some unknown reason). "But you know... that can always change?"
• "Can it?" I laughed. "Well, it doesn't matter in the end. I'm a LeBlanc, right? I just need myself and the money that will one day... be mine alone."
• "That still sounds lonely and sad," he seemed to want to reinforce that idea in a certain way. "Humans are social beings, you know?"
• "Are you speaking from personal experience?" I ended up asking as I looked at him, those golden eyes seeming to shine in the midst of the night.
• "And if I am, huh?" He asked me. "Shouldn't you listen to the voice of experience?"
• His hands came towards my face — probably because I had finally stopped crying — wiping away my tears that were probably blackened; his hand doing so with a certain lightness, delicacy.
• Damn it... he was really handsome.
• Why did he have to have that delicate face, slightly marked jawline, and those eyes, feline like a cat's, and a smile that... damn...
• You know what? If George can... so can I.
• I was going to mess around with this blond.
• "Do you... want to continue this conversation in a more private place?" I asked as I stood up, my hand reaching out to help him up, "we have an entire house for that."
• "As you wish," he seemed to speak innocently, as if he didn't even know what awaited him, my hand guiding him to my room (which I knew no one would come to by the end of the night).
• And as soon as we entered it? I kissed him.
• I kissed him, pushing him against the wall, and when I thought he would push me away? The blond pulled me closer, his hands sliding down my back, over my hips...
• "Wait..." he spoke with a panting breath, "are you... sure about this?"
• Cute.
• He was probably asking that because he knew the state I was in, knew that I was fragile, and... was post-sex regret a thing for someone? It should be depressing.
• However, I wasn't going to regret it.
• I wanted him, and it wasn't just because I'd been cheated on, no... it was because now I could.
• "Darling... I'm not foolish enough to use you as a patch for my broken heart," I spoke alongside my eyes that were fixed on his, my hands going to the buttons of his shirt, "and you? Are you going to deny me?"
• ALEXIS GALLAGHER
• I swallowed hard.
• How could she ask me that? Especially with those gray eyes staring at me with pure desire, as if she were questioning if I were a monster and would reject her.
• And now? Her face was no longer stained due to smudged makeup, and because of the lamp light that was still on, I could see that delicate face, those plump lips that resembled those of a doll, the small neck, the collarbones marked.
• Damn it.
• How did I get myself into this?
• "You're taking too long to answer, I think that's a 'no'..." she withdrew her hands, her body distancing itself.
• But in that look? There was no sadness from rejection, no... there was a cunning air, like that of a fox.
• And that made me unable to hold back any longer, my body pushing her against the wall, my lips sealing against hers, my tongue invading her mouth, her heart speeding up while her hands came towards my neck, my hair.
• Before I could notice, my hands were taking off her dress, and she? Was unbuttoning my shirt, my lips descending on her neck, going down to her breasts that now? Were exposed.
• My mouth began to lick her chest, my hand squeezing the other, moans could be heard.
• That made me even more excited, and when her body started moving towards me as if she wanted even more? That's when I lost my mind completely.
• I wanted her.
• I wanted Claire LeBlanc losing all the composure she had while descending those stairs.