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Book 2 - Solid Stone - Odyssey

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Another standing ovation for the maestro! I breathe to slow down my heart. My wrists are freed. Adam pulls off the blindfold. He's stark naked, cock glistening, and smudged with my burgundy lipstick. The rope in his hand is a nice touch. Fuck, I may come again. Betrayal? - Violet I love him. We're living together, playing out all my fantasies. I love every second of his touch and the trust that comes with it. I don't want to say no, I'm not supposed to. He owns me. And it feels so good when he does. Control! Adam I relish in control. Of my life, my money, my bed. Only when Violet is in it am I truly content. But things are changing, I can feel it. She's falling apart. Breaking. But what I don't understand is, why?

Romance / Erotica
E.G. Patrick
4.9 65 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Solid Stone Series
Book 1: Revolving Door
Book 2: Odyssey
Book 3: Choices

Note to readers (Chapter 1 begins below this intro)

Mature Audience / Explicit Sensual Scenes / Role Play / BDSM
This is a contemporary current-day romance. However, Violet’s fantasy scenes are written more formally in keeping with the time.

Important: EXCERPT of five chapters. The Solid Stone Series is moving to GALATEA on February 26th. Thank you to those who read it on Inkitt. It’s moving because of YOU!

Copyright © E.G. Patrick

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or agent.

1. Fiction, Erotica, Romance


Chapter 1

The tick-tock of the mini grandfather clock dampens as I tape another box. The movers will arrive in a few hours. Shit! My mother’s face, surrounded by a silver frame, falls out of a box as I lean it toward the tape gun. My foot bends, and the white rubber tip of my sneaker saves it from crashing against the hardwood floor. Thankfully, it’s still intact, and I smile before wrapping it back up in tissue.

This Saturday morning, I’m feeling sentimental. With one hand on my hip, I slowly circle the apartment, trying to ingrain the things I might miss about it. The soft sage curtains, the creak of the old wood floor just outside my bedroom door. The table, oh yes, that for sure. I’ve had many deep conversations there with my mom and Ann. And that time with Adam—my body livens up like a thousand watt light bulb as I replay how it glissaded with each thrust from his hips. How his perfectly cut biceps tightened each time, he seized the sides. My mouth water’s forcing me to swallow.

Being with Adam is all-encompassing and somewhat unnerving too. We’ve jumped over one hurdle, and I wonder how many more will come. My heart leaps when I think of him, and now that he’s asked me to move in, I’ve given myself more to think about. Do I have the strength and the willpower to be with someone like him? We’ve taken a giant step forward—that’s a good thing. Surely, we can overcome anything together. I’ve convinced myself that’s true.

I love him like the summer, a hot breeze, a warm sun. It never rains when I’m around him. His eyes even seem bluer these days. Perhaps a haze lifted? Hope in us?

Willing myself to stop thinking, I pull the cream-colored tablecloth off of the table. It used to sit on mom’s kitchen table. Again, I smile. I always do when I think of her. After folding it in four, I pack it in a box.

The apartment buzzer goes, “Hi,” I say into the intercom.

“Hey, it’s me.” I press the button for Ann and hear the door click as she opens it.

Standing at the door, we exchange smiles, and we’re dressed the same in black yoga pants, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. After a lengthy hug, she comes in. “Want some coffee?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She looks around the living room. It’s void of the things that made it my home.

Handing Ann a coffee cup, I say, “There’s not too much left. I’m only taking my clothes and a few personal things. The furniture’s even staying. Brian and Dennis are moving in next weekend.”

Ann nods, taking a sip of coffee and still looking around, maybe feeling sentimental. She has memories here too. She takes a deep breath and appears brighter. “This coffee’s delicious.”

“Thanks, I added cinnamon, something I picked up from Adam.” She nods approvingly. I know she’s happy for me.

“Okay, so what’s left?” She says, perking up all of a sudden.

“How about you pack the bookcase while I finish in the bedroom?” She grabs a box and the tape gun, and I head into the bedroom to finish packing up my clothes. The movers brought three large wardrobe boxes, but I’ll only need one.

“Are you nervous?” Ann calls out.

Coming back into the living room, I hand her three books. “A little, but I’m excited too. I really wasn’t expecting to be moving in with Adam. But, when he suggested it, I said yes without a second thought. Am I crazy?”

Ann’s brow arches. “Not at all. It’s a new chapter for you, Vee. You should be excited.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Satisfied, she tapes up the box. It’s not long before the buzzer goes again, and this time it’s the movers.

We watch as the boxes are taken out of the apartment. Ann’s heavy on the gas, and we reach the house ahead of the movers. Before going inside, I look up and then down. The house still impresses me with all of its straight lines and masculinity. After punching in the alarm code, we enter the foyer. The house is quiet. Adam’s out of town and won’t be back until the middle of the week.

My phone buzzes, and it’s a text from him: Hi babe, next week I come home to you, and I can’t wait. Are you there yet?

My reply comes quickly: You must have a sixth sense. The truck will be here any minute. I miss you. xo

His is just as quick: When it comes to you, my senses are on high alert. Be good. I smile to myself.

In no time, we’ve unpacked my clothes. The books and pictures are left in their boxes for now. Ann and I share a pizza and a bottle of wine from Adam’s cellar.

“He has the best wine,” Ann says, raising her glass. “And to new beginnings.”

“And to exploration,” I say. Ann’s eyebrow arches, followed by a smile as she clinks her glass against mine.

And as the next chapter of my life is about to begin, I’ve really no idea where it’s going to take me. I know that I’m quickly becoming aware of what I want and what I need.

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