Jaxon
The sound of the alarm clock pierces the silence, shrill, annoying. As if I had slept.
Without even looking, I reach out and turn it off instantly, the abrupt movement that makes the mattress vibrate. The alarm clock is not the problem.
I remain motionless, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, my breathing slow, measured. My head throbs, pounds, as if blood were flowing boiling in my veins. And I know exactly why.
I didn't sleep a wink all night. I couldn't.
Every single moment I spent in a hell made of her presence, her breathing, the heat of her body a few centimeters from mine. And, above all, of that f*****g perfume that enveloped me like a sweet and lethal poison, creeping inside me until I got drunk.
Vanilla. With a hint of something darker, spicier. Something that makes me want
