Being Me (Inside Out #2) ". By: Lisa Renee Jones. Pdf Free Merger, Ebook, Bookshop, Epub Download Gratis, Epub Format, Epub. Gratis Descargar. Being Me by Lisa Renee Jones - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. Is safety just an illusion, when the truth about Rebecca. Editorial Reviews. From the Author. Did you know this series is being developed for cable TV? Be sure to check out goudzwaard.info for more details!.
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The Bastard by Lisa Renee Jones. by Lisa Renee Jones on November 14, I'm now a few months from being a billionaire myself. I don't need my father's. Leia «Being Me» de Lisa Renee Jones disponível na Rakuten Kobo. Registe-se hoje e obtenha um desconto de $5 na sua primeira compra. Being Me is the. New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of Being Me. Inside Out (Series). Book 2. Lisa Renee Jones Author ( ).
Meredith Wild. Not Until You Part V. Sweet Filthy Boy. Heart Recaptured. Wicked Sexy Liar. Play My Game: Souls Unfractured. Beautiful Boss. Sweet Fall. Playing for Keeps.
Last Call. Monster Prick. Hard Limit. Call on Me. Playing to Win. Ladies Man. Sweet Hope. Mai Tai'd Up. Maya Banks. Project Daddy. The Bastard. Lisa Renee Jones. One Man. The Empire. The Princess. Dirty Rich Obsession. Dirty Rich Cinderella Story: Ever After. Dirty Rich Betrayal. Falling Under. Dirty Rich One Night Stand. Dirty Rich Obsession: All Mine.
Dirty Rich One Night Stand: Two Years Later. Dirty Rich Cinderella Story. Pulled Under. Savage Hunger. Inside Out: Behind Closed Doors. Deep Under. Alluring Tales: Hot Holiday Nights. Sylvia Day. Beneath the Secrets a Tall, Dark, and Deadly standalone. Alluring Tales--Awaken the Fantasy.
Sasha White. Taste of Pleasure. Bundle Two. Lexi Blake. Escaping Reality. Infinite Possibilities. The Legend of Michael. Bound and Pleasured. The Storm That Is Sterling. Vegas Heat. Hard And Fast. The Danger That Is Damion. Play with Me Novella. High Octane. Demon's Seduction. Need You Now. Hot Secrets a Tall, Dark, and Deadly standalone. Breathless Descent. Captive of the Beast. Jump Start. Dangerous Secrets a Tall, Dark and Deadly standalone.
Purple Magic. Beast of Darkness. End Game. Return of the Beast. Secrets Exposed a Tall, Dark, and Deadly standalone. Beast of Desire. Poison Kisses Part 3. One Woman. Texas Hotzone Series. The Beast Within. Bad Deeds. Exposed and Pleasured. Two Together. In every pore of my body, every nerve ending I owned, I could feel him. Stalking me.
Claiming me, even though he hadnt touched me yet. I was completely at his mercy, naked and on my knees, in the center of a soft wool rug. Tight bands held my calves to my thighs, while another set of ties wrapped my chest and held my arms behind my back. It hurt in a bittersweet, arousing way, and while I felt exposed and vulnerable, Ive come to know those things arouse me in ways I never thought possible.
It isnt logical really, how I can feel scared of where he will take me next, and still quiver with arousal. And I was scared as I knelt there in the darkness. Scared of how little control I have over 1. How much I need him to control me. I do not recognize this part of me now, as I write this, but when Im with him, I become what he wants me to be. I become his willing slave, even though Ive come to know I am only a token in his games. Hes promised me nothing other than to possess me.
He will never belong to me as I do to him. I will never control him as he does me. I play by his rules and I never know how they will change, or what, or who will be part of the new game each of our encounters become. And last night, when a spotlight suddenly shone down on me and me alone, when he stepped out of the darkness to stand before me, it was the man standing by his side that jolted me to the core.
Two of them, one of whom I despise being with us and he knows it, yet he still invited this person to share me. I wanted to object. I should have objected.
But there in that room, I wasnt Rebecca. I was just his.
Sometimes, in the morning light, when he cannot touch me, when we are apart, I think I want to just be me, to be Rebecca again. Only Im not sure who that is. Im not sure I know me anymore. Who is Rebecca Mason? I am suffocating in a tunnel of complete, utter darkness created by the unexpected power outage in the storage unit Ive been digging through in hopes of finding clues to Rebeccas whereabouts.
I have been thrust into the middle of a dreaded horror movie, the kind I hate watching, and I instantly picture myself as the girl who makes all the wrong moves and ends up bloody and lifeless. I, Sara McMillan, am a logical person, and I tell myself to reject my fear as irrational.
This is simply one of the random power outages San Francisco has experienced in the past few months, and a mouse at my feet is the worst of my worries. But then, isnt that what the girl who gets killed in the horror movie always thinks, too? Its just a power outage. Its just a mouse. I was stupid to come here alone at night as it is and I try not to be stupid. I knew from a prior encounter that the attendant of this place was creepy but I dismissed him as a concern.
Id just been too darn desperate to feel I was doing something to find Rebecca, and desperate to take my mind off Chriss silence 3. I fear his trip out of town for a charity event has given him time to decide he doesnt miss me. After all, hed dared to show me one of his darkest secrets the night before and Id done exactly what hed said I would, and Id sworn I wouldnt, by pushing him away.
Running away, I add silently, thinking of the words Chris had used quite often to predict my behavior. Another popping sound permeates the eerie silence and I am officially freaking out about more than Chriss silence.
My mind struggles to identify the sound, with no results. Oh yes, indeed, I am so flipping stupid for coming here alone. And while I like to think Im not stupid often, tonight proves that when I am, I do it in a big way. I dont dare move, let alone breathe, yet I can hear low, raspy pants and I know they are mine. I will myself to silence but it doesnt work. My chest is tight, and air becomes harder to draw into my lungs.
I need air. I need it desperately. Im hyperventilating, I think. Thats it. I remember this same, almost out-of-body sensation, from the moment a doctor exited my mothers hospital room five years ago and told me she was dead.
Even knowing what is happening to me, I continue the damnable shallow gasps certain to give away my location. I do not understand how I can know what is happening to me and still not be capable of controlling it. Somehow, I am standing and I dont remember standing.
Papers fall from my hands that I dont remember holding. Panic rises inside me and tells me to scream and run. So right and real is this fight or flight sensation that I take a step forward, but another popping sound freezes me in place.
My gaze jerks to the door, where I see nothing but more darkness. Nothing but 4. Another pop. What is that sound? Another noisea shuffle of a foot, I think sounds closer to the doorway. Adrenaline races through me, and I dont consciously think, I just act.
I launch myself across the room, in a direction I think is free of obstacles. Door, door, door! I need the door. Where is the damn door? My fingers find empty space and more empty space until, finally, I hit cold steel and relief washes over me as I slam the door shut. I hold my palms against the surface.
Now what? Now what?! Lock the door. But I cant. Reality hits hard. The lock is outside andoh, Godwhoever is outside could lock me inside. I whirl around at the terrifying thought and flatten myself against the door. I remember my phone in my jacket pocket and dig for it. I cant see anything. I clearly cannot even think straight. How had I not thought of my phone before now? I grab it but it slips from my hand and drops to the ground. Frantically, I fall to my knees on the ground to scrabble for it, relieved when my hand closes around the slick plastic, but I struggle without success to get the lock button off.
As I dart to my feet, afraid Ill be slashed to death while trying to dialand this time nothing is stopping my escape. Running might be another stupid move, but at this point not running feels pretty darn stupid, too. I yank the door open and more darkness greets me, but I dont care.
I run and pray that I dont charge into whoever is inside with me or trip over my own feet in the black hole that is everything around me. I just want out. It is all I can think of. Its what drives me forward in the direct 5. I am an explosion of fear and adrenaline that has dissolved the logic Id had moments before.
I search for the exit, for light, but the exterior door that had been open is closed, and I hit it with a force that rattles my teeth. The iron taste of blood spills into my mouth where my teeth have ground into my tongue, but I dont let it shake my resolve to escape in one piece. I feel for the handle and let out a breath of relief when it gives and the door opens.
Within a split second I am out of the building, the dim streetlights and cold San Francisco night air a welcome escape from the suffocating darkness of the building as I bolt for my car. My muscles flex and burn as I fear someone is at my back but I do not dare waste precious seconds to confirm or deny this possibility. The delicate skin of my palm is pinched between my keys where I have squeezed the metal into the flesh, and I struggle to find the electronic clicker to unlock my car door.
Time seems to stand still as I fight the urge to look behind me again and, instead, I tug the door open. Certain someone is about to grab me from behind, I throw myself into my seat and yank the handle, sealing myself inside and clicking the locks into place. Frantically I look out my window and see no one, but I expect shattered glass any second. My hands shake with such fierceness I have to steady one with the other to get the key in the ignition. The instant its in, I start the engine and throw the vehicle into reverse.
Tires squeal and my heart thunders. I shift the gear into drive and instantly stomp on the brake, jerking myself forward with the impact. The sound of my heavy breathing fills the eerily silent car as I stare at the open door of the building and see nothing spectacular or scary. Its 6.
And Im here and no one else seems to be around. It doesnt matter. The longer I sit here the more I feel exposed, vulnerable, a target. My foot hits the gas. I need out of this parking lot and I need out now. Im barely on the side street leading to the highway, my hands clutching the steering wheel, when it hits me: Ive left it open and Im driving away. I cut the car into a gas station and park beside the building.
I just sit. It could be a minute, or two or ten. I cant be sure. I cant seem to form coherent thoughts. I let my head fall to the steering wheel and try to focus. The storage unit. Rebeccas secrets, her life.
Her death. My head jerks up. Shes not dead. Shes not dead I have to go back and lock the unit, I whisper.
I could call the police to meet me. They wont arrest me for being afraid of the dark. They might laugh, they might be irritated, but Ill be safe and smart this time. My cell phone rings from the seat, where I dont remember tossing it, and I jump, balling my fist between my breasts. Good grief, I murmur, chiding myself.
Get a grip, Sara. I glance at the number. My chest burns hot with emotion. There is so much between us that is unsettled, so many reasons why we are wrong for each other. Yet, despite this or perhaps because of it, I have never needed to hear someones voice as much as I need to hear his now. Sara, he murmurs when I answer, and my name is a soft rasp of silky male perfection that radiates through me and settles in the deep hollow of my soul only he seems to fill.
My voice cracks on his name, because damn it, my eyes are burning. How have I gone from living the past few years so unaffected by what is around me to the opposite in a matter of weeks? I wish you were here. I am here, baby, he says, and I think, I hope, I hear a note of his own emotion etched deep within his words.
Im at your front door. Open up. I blink in confusion. I thought you were in L. I was and I have to fly out again in the morning, but I had to see you. Open up and let me in. I am stunned. Ive worried all day over his silence. Feared hed shut me out, as I had him last night. You came home just to see me? I came just to see you. He seems to hesitate. Are you going to leave me outside? More of that emotion I try not to feel erupts inside me, and the burn in my eyes threatens to become tears.
He came to see me, went out of his way, to fly here from another city, even after the way Id reacted to his confession at the club last night. Im not home. My voice is barely audible. Im not and I want to be. Can you please come here?
Where is here? A few blocks away. At a Stop N download store by the storage unit I told you about. I cant bring myself to say Rebeccas name and I dont know why. Ill be right there. I open my mouth to give him directions, but the line goes dead. Im out of my car the instant I see Chriss Porsche pulling into the parking lot, and the chill I feel when I step outside has nothing to do with the cold air blasting from the nearby ocean, and everything to do with what had happened back at that storage unit.
I hug myself and watch him drive toward my silver Ford Focus, and my heart thunders in my chest. Suddenly, I am nervous and insecure, and I hate this part of me I cannot escape. What if Ive read his visit wrong and hes here to end whats between us? What if my reaction to his big reveal last night at Marks club has convinced him of what hes so often declared?
That I dont belong in this world, in his world. The slides sleekly into the parking spot next to mine, and I try not to think about it being the same car my father drives.
My father is the last person I should have on my mind, yet hes been in my head these past few weeks and I dont know why. Im off-kilter, my mind all over the place, shaken by the nights events and my fear of what will happen with Chris.
I watch Chris exit the car, and just the sight of him towering over the roof of the Porsche sets my pulse to racing all over again. He rounds the trunk, and dressed in black jeans, biker boots, and a leather jacket, his blond hair spiking to his collar, he looks rumpled and sexy, and oh so ruggedly male.
His long strides mimic the same urgency I feel, and I launch myself in his direction. The few steps between us feel like an eternity before I am finally in his arms, wrapped in the warm cocoon of his embrace, his powerful body absorbing mine.
The battle of the night before is gone as if it never existed. I melt into the hard lines of him, sliding my hands beneath his leather jacket, and inhaling the wonderful sandalwood and musk scent that is so wonderfully Chris. In an easy move, he maneuvers me to the side of the car, where the wall hides us from the sight of the people coming and going into the store.
Talk to me, baby, he orders, studying me in the dim, barely there glow of some kind of parking lights on the Porsche. Are you okay? My eyes meet his and even in the deep haze of the shadows I feel the connection between us, the depths of his feelings for me.
Chris has layers I dont pretend to understand, but he cares about me and I want him to see what I failed to show him last night. I want to understand him. I want him, all of him, including those parts I made him feel I cant deal with. Yes, I whisper. Now that youre here, Im okay. Ive barely spoken the words when his mouth closes over I arch into him, drinking in his passion, instantly, willingly consumed by all that he is and could be to me. A dark seed of something that started back in the storage unit, or maybe last night in the club, tries to surface, something my mind refuses to accept.