Page 4 of Kobra's Opal

However, the truth was, the only reason I fell into Ty’s grips was because of Kobra. I loved him in a way that broke me, and when I broke, I went for the comfort of a stranger’s arms. Thus I fell in love with a client. But was it really love? Right now, I was confronted by the truth… It wasn’t really love. I just needed someone.

Because I had tasted real love, and he intoxicated me. It was smothering common sense from my mind, consuming me with an undying passion for his touch. It wasn’t love. It was pure and utter insanity. That was what love really was.

It wasn’t just the desire to be touched, to be held. No. And right now as I stared at myself. It terrified me. Because if I didn’t love Ty, that meant I was still in love with Kobra. And all the men I had fucked believing I had moved on—meant nothing.

And just for a few moments, as I stared at the woman in front of me, I was beginning to see me, and… then there was a knock on my front door. My masked flicked quickly back up.

Forcing a smile, I turned to the side, walking to my front door and opening it as my gaze landed on a man that made me suffer these painful truths every few weeks.

Kobra Kincaid. And true to his name, he was painfully poisonous to my mind. In some ways, he drove away the insanity I lived with daily, to face my conscience, and that scared the shit out of me.

He was a biker, and sure enough, looked as terrifying as a man that carried the name Kobra. Now there were clear rules when associating with bikers. Well, clear rules set by Madam— the only problem was I ignored every one of them, and I fell in love with Kobra at a young age.

Why would I want to be alone with a man, that could terrify Lucifer? I don’t know. I supposed it came back to my self destructing tendencies.

I don’t know why, but when I stood in front of him, I felt as much a fraud as I am. Perhaps it was because he lived a life true to being who he wanted to be. I lived a life true to money, society, and the expectations of Madam.

He’s stunningly beautiful and alluring. Perhaps words you wouldn’t normally associate with a hundred per cent biker. To clarify, his muscles defined his stunning carved body, his detailed cryptic tattoos beautiful. The way the black swirled so beautifully into the grey, his skin was a work of art. Even though I knew most of the ink that was on his skin stood for things, I could never fully understate their beauty. As for alluring, well, that all came down to the look in his eyes, the sharp smouldering blue eyes, which claimed your ability to think straight and could see onto your soul—just with one look.

Kobra Kincaid cast a spell over me. In more ways than just making me see myself clearly. He fanned my wildfire of lust within me. There was a long list of reasons why I couldn’t act on those lustful feelings. One, we had a business relationship that didn’t involve fucking. He supplied my high-end clients with their drug fixes. He sold me the drugs that put my clients on benders. Essentially he gave me another tool to keep my clients coming back.

So I gave him my normal smile and snapped out of the trance he cast. I pretended he hadn’t broken me years ago.

“Kobra,” I said, trying to act normal. Like my heart hadn’t been ripped out hours ago when realising I still loved him. That I hadn’t spent the next hour on the bathroom floor crying, washing Ty’s scent off me. That it hadn’t taken layers of foundation and blending to cover the redness to my cheeks.

My eyes were still slightly glassy.

I opened the front door, “I just got Holly’s message you were stopping me,” I said and stepped right to the side as he walked in.

My phone rang, seeing the client numbers who I had replaced Ty with tonight, I answered.

“Hey Dylan—”

“Sorry Jasmine can you cancel my evening appointment, I’ve got family commitments.” He cut me off before I even said anymore, so I knew someone was listening.

“Not a problem Dylan, family always comes first, we can reschedule.” With those words said, I hung up.

Perhaps it was the fact he was the second man, tonight to cancel me for his wife, or that my name was Opal, not Jasmine. Which told me, his wife had indeed been listening— because his receptionist was named Jasmine.

That’s when it runs through my mind, the cold face slapping fact. There wasn’t one person in this world that loved me. Not one person that would cancel their plans to be with me. Not one person who cared if come tomorrow I wasn’t breathing.

“Opal?”

My eyes flashed off my phone and to Kobra. He was looking at me as if he knew the pain I was feeling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, shifting, slightly uncomfortable. As if asking that question went against his better instincts.

I could taste my tears, and I was quick to wipe them away. I gestured my head to the lounge room. “Her bags are in there,” I said, ignoring his question.

I didn’t know what else to say. I slipped out of my heels, and walked into the lounge room, sitting down on the circular couch. If life is what you make it, it was fair to say that I had made a toxic potion of co-dependency and addiction to unhealthy men.

Lightning cracked across the sky, the rain slowly getting heavier. I was completely startled when the couch dipped down near me, and I saw Kobra—who I thought would have just left, after getting his sister’s things.

As my eyes run up his neck tattoos, I slowly bring myself to look him in the eyes. I never cried in front of anyone. To say I felt nothing but shame was an understatement.

“Your date cancel?” Kobra asked.

I scoffed softly. “Come on, Kobra. Your club has been supplying Madam longer than that—you and I both know that you know what I do now.” Dragging my gaze to him.

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