A huge thanks to Painjane and adt216 for being my spelling and grammar fairies.

Thanks to JustPeachy00 for keeping me excited about this fic and for being a great partner in crime.

Thank you to all you lovely ladies for reading and reviewing and making this all worth it.

Congratulations to FictionFreak95 – she will be posting the final chapter of her fantastic fic, Blind Spot tomorrow. If you're not reading it already – what are you waiting for? It's on my favourites if you need the link.

For those who asked : Body of Work will only be in BPOV.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters associated with it.

Summary: Bella Swan is a beautiful, spunky gossip columnist. Edward Cullen is an arrogant, hot New York socialite. When Edward is admitted into rehab, Bella will stop at nothing to get her story. On her journey to get the scoop, she will reveal things about Edward that makes her question her own intentions, as more than the truth gets uncovered.

Hope you enjoy, girlies!

Chapter-Three

∞Insomnia∞

I can't sleep.

I'm on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling above. I've pushed my covers down until they're knotted and tied at the foot of the bed. It's too damn hot on this island.

My restlessness is not only due to the heat in this room, although I would really like to blame it all on Lauren. The truth is I'm too wired to close my eyes. I get to call Jasper today, and I simply cannot wait to speak to him about this fuckery.

Also, Edward's prickish behaviour is grating on my nerves, and I swear to all that is holy, if he wasn't a job I would call him out on it. Not to mention, now that I actually have to act like an alcoholic and not just an addict in general, the difficulty level of the task at hand has seriously increased.

After the incident with Edward, yesterday went by without me seeing him again. I can't say I minded. Really, I was still licking the wounds after his obvious dismissal. I ate lunch on my own—after having to gently decline little Mike's invitation to join his table—until Lauren got off serving duty and joined me. I got the distinct impression that she doesn't really have many friends here, that, or she's taking pity on me. Given her snarky comments and eye rolling, I'm leaning towards the first option.

Afterwards, we had an all female arts and crafts session, where I had to bead a fucking bracelet. One good thing was that all the women seemed nice enough, apart from Lauren, who was in the group with me beading a sparkling pink monstrosity of a necklace.

The same group had a seminar afterwards on how to deal with the pressures of being a woman in modern times. I tried my best to perfect the ability to sleep with my eyes open. Lauren's not so subtle jabbing confirmed that I failed.

I sat with her at dinner again, listlessly munching away on chicken and broccoli, trying to remember the taste of Toni's pepperoni pizza down the street from where I live. How easily the mind forgets.

Edward sat with Emmett, their table just as silent as ours from the sneak peeks I was able to get.

All in all, a day of humiliation on my part and absolutely no progress in my story whatsoever.

It was a depressing affair.

With a frustrated huff, I turn on my side and squint to see the time on the standard issue bedside clock.

It's just after five.

Knowing I won't be able to fall asleep again, I groggily push myself off the bed and head towards the bathroom.

After I've showered, I get dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. I'm rather enjoying the break from heels and skirts, although I've packed them just in case. I pull my hair into a high ponytail and tiptoe my way across the room, casting one final look in the direction of my roommate. She's still out cold.

I might just as well go exploring. The rules state in no uncertain terms that patients are not allowed to wander the facility aimlessly, and we are not allowed anywhere if it is not expressed in the binder or on our rosters. Luckily I'm still new, so if I get caught somewhere I'm not allowed to be, I'll just claim that I got lost.

The cool air-conditioned hallway makes me expel a sigh of relief. Trying to make as little sound as possible, even with the rubber on the soles of my chucks squeaking obnoxiously against the polished wood floors, I shimmy my way towards the staircase.

Instead of going down towards the dining hall and session rooms, I go up one level.

I reach a floor, similar to the one I live on and hesitate momentarily before making my way slowly down it. This has to be where the men sleep.

I find myself moving towards the window at the end of the quiet hallway. I could have done this on my own floor, but I want to see the view of the sun rising over the ocean, and since it's right there, I suppose there's no harm in looking.

I stop just short of the window, gasping at the sight before me. The sun is slowly pushing its way over the Atlantic, casting hues of bright golden heat, warming my skin through the glass panelling. It's nothing short of breathtaking.

Feeling energized by the view, I decide to explore once again. I'm required to help with the preparation and service of breakfast for the duration of my stay, but I still have more than enough time to get better acquainted with my current lodgings before heading down to the kitchen.

I'm mid-turn when the door beside me flies open. I gasp and lift a hand to my throat in surprise.

If the occupant is startled by the sight of a woman outside his room, he doesn't show it. He seems rather pleased, in fact, which is unsettling at best.

"Well if it isn't, Bella." Emmett's voice lilts teasingly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I—" I frantically search for words to explain, knowing my presence outside his room probably looks really, really bad.

"Did you come for a visit?" he drawls seductively which makes my skin crawl. I'm about to snarl something back when movement behind him catches my eye.

Stepping out of their shared bathroom in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, is a freshly showered, half-naked Edward Cullen.

I catch his side profile as me makes his way across the room, seemingly unaware of the fact that his bedroom door is open and there's a woman standing right outside it.

My eyes move without permission over his fine form, dripping wet hair causing water to trickle down shoulders, narrow waist tucked in a towel emphasizing his best asset and slung just low enough to show the deep indentation of the illustrious male V.

Edward Cullen may be a dick, but there is no denying that he is a damn hot one.

His fingers rake through his hair and then moves to his waist as he slightly twists his body further in my direction. I can feel myself leaning to the left, trying to catch the private striptease.

I sneak a quick glimpse of revealed skin.

Holy...

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

My head snaps to the right as a man dressed in all black approaches. I'm startled not only by his surprising presence, but by the fact that I was just about to ogle the naked body of a man right in front of an audience.

I turn my head back towards Emmett just as he softly starts to close his bedroom door, dimples poking into his cheeks as he gives me a 'you're on your own' look.

Turning back to my captor, I think I recall his face as of one of the night security personnel Lauren pointed out two nights ago.

"I'm sorry," I stutter. "I got lost." My excuse is not sounding nearly as convincing as I hoped it would.

His eyes flickers to the closed door where Emmett stood just a second ago, a suspicious frown pulling at his brows.

"Where did you want to be?" He sounds sceptical, but at least he's looking at me again.

"Kitchen," I manage with a tight smile, trying to act...lost.

"That would be behind the dining hall." His grey eyes are laughing at me. "You know? Where you've been eating all this time?"

I pull my shoulders up, plastering my best innocent smile on my face as I try to calm my heartbeat.

"I've been following my roommate around every day," I offer in explanation. I know it's lame and that he probably won't buy it, but I'm betting on the kindness I see in his eyes, hoping that he'll at least pretend to believe me.

He watches me contemplatively for a moment. Marcus's earlier words of 'repercussions' ring in my ears. I'm in no mood to find out exactly what those repercussions are, just yet.

"Follow me," he sighs heavily, clearly indicating that he's onto me, but obviously not in the mood to create a scene.

I smile thankfully and fall in step beside him.

"You're the alcoholic, right?" he asks as we approach the stairs.

I look up to find him smiling good-humouredly at me.

"Does everyone know about that?" I feign insult, cringing inwards. Stupid Lauren and her stupid pink beads.

"'Fraid so." He chuckles as I descend the stairs behind him. "Marcus said he did tell you when you went to see him."

"He probably did," I admit reluctantly, once again feeling like an idiot. "Guess I wasn't really paying attention."

"Caught off guard by the lip?"

I laugh in surprise at the unexpected joke as he gives me a playful wink once I've fallen into step beside him again.

"Yeah." I giggle.

We walk the short distance to the dining hall doors in companionable silence, my nerves settling and my mind focused on anything else but the tattoos splattered all over the left side of Edward's ribcage and hips.

"I'm Bella, by the way," I manage after a deliberate attempt to refocus.

"Caius, at your service." He fake-curtsies, which makes me chuckle again. He seems like a really nice guy. He looks to be in his late thirties, clean-shaven head with a build much the same as Emmett's.

He holds the door, and I step past him into the empty dining hall.

"You're a bit early, but Esme should be here already." He informs me as we walk towards another set of swinging doors behind the serving area.

"Who's Esme?"

"The chef. Nice broad." He smiles, and I find that I really do like him.

Just before we push through the doors, he comes to a halt, turning to face me fully. I stop too, staring up at him expectantly.

"Listen, Bella," he says seriously, which causes me to flinch slightly. His drawn expression is extremely unsettling.

"The rules around here are really strict." I nod as he speaks in a hushed tone. "The security is tight, and there are cameras everywhere." I swallow thickly. "I don't want you to get into any trouble. So, try not to 'get lost' again, okay?" He actually air quotes, and I feel my ears burn with embarrassment.

"I won't," I promise feebly, which earns me another of his wide smiles.

"Good." He nods, pushing the doors open. "Come on. Let's introduce you to Esme."

xoxo

Esme is nothing short of spectacular. Her round, pudgy figure, doughy fingers and tight grey bun streaked with shocks of red reminds me of Christmas in Forks—warm, cosy and familiar.

I feel like I could curl right up against her with a cup of cocoa and a book.

After she hands Caius a container filled with all things breakfast for the wife and kids, she shoos him away and turns to me with a wide smile.

"How refreshing to have a patient come down early."

I feel slightly guilty because it really wasn't my intention to be early for kitchen duty at all, but I shrug and go with it.

"Do you cook?" she continues as she starts to bustle around busily.

"Oh, not really," I admit sheepishly, eyes following her movements as she pulls out an industrial size casserole-type pan.

"You're going to learn real soon." She smiles over her shoulder and then points to an urn filled with boiling water. "Bring that over here, hon."

I nod and pull the urn over to the stove where she's turned it onto medium heat.

"You're making poached eggs today," she explains as she fills the pan with boiling water from the urn before placing it back on the stove.

I gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, frightened to death of the task at hand. I'm not an entirely bad cook, but I've never had to cook for more than four people at a time, and never anything more the mac and cheese.

Esme must notice my reluctance because, soon, her soft, little hand is patting my back as she speaks gently. "Come, I'll show you."

After one perfectly poached egg, which I made myself mind you, Esme places it on a piece of buttered toast and pushes it over to me with a wink.

"We'll need about fifty of those, sweetheart," she says before she shuffles off to one of the ovens.

I nod silently and lift the tempting looking toast to my mouth. I'm in heaven as I bite into the soft egg, sunshine yellow yolk threatening to trickle down my chin. Closing my eyes for a second to savour the delicious treat, I'm thinking that obviously I must be a culinary wunderkind.

Opening my eyes to take another bite, I'm met by disturbingly clear green eyes set in heavy, frowning brows.

Mouth agape, egg dangling precariously from the edge of my toast, I stare in mortification as Edward tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he's watching a chimpanzee display at the zoo.

"Hi," I mutter awkwardly before blinking and closing my mouth with a resound pop.

He frowns deeper and shakes his head before turning away from me and towards Esme. I'm once again caught off guard by his rudeness as I watch Esme pull him to her in a motherly hug.

Will his dick freeze off if he utters one proper greeting?

And then, I see it. Like a ghost ship appearing through thick mist rolling over the ocean. He smiles. Genuinely...and it's pretty...for a pompous asshole.

"You're just in time to get started on the bacon," Esme coos as she pulls away from him, her eyes bright and friendly.

"Show the way, Miss Esme," he responds in kind, and I'm startled by the soft sweetness in his voice.

She pulls him to the stove opposite mine, grabbing two skillets on the way over.

There goes my hope of finding sanctuary in this kitchen every morning.

Having lost my appetite, I lower my own toast to my plate and place it back on the table, keeping my eyes diverted from the enigma standing across from me.

"Have you started on the eggs yet, Bella?" Esme asks from beside Edward as she pulls some bacon from the fridge and hands it to him.

"I'm on it," I respond tightly, reaching for the tray.

"Call if you need any help."

"Will do," I mumble, breaking my first egg into a cup before gently slipping it into the boiling water.

I repeat this task over and over, lifting the done eggs from the pan with a slotted spoon, poking them gently with a teaspoon to check their firmness and then placing them on a sheet of kitchen paper to dry, just like Esme showed me.

The kitchen fills with two more patients, a girl I recognize from Arts and Crafts class and a man I haven't seen around before. The guy is given the task of toasting bread, and the girl, Leah, is setting the tables and getting the serving area ready.

I work silently and efficiently, stealing stealthy glances in Edward's direction. He's so focused on frying the damn bacon, to the point where it looks like he believes each flip of his spatula might save the fate of the world.

My mind wanders back to his tattoos I inadvertently saw earlier. The thought of those black marks on his golden skin has a fresh wave of irritation washing over me. What do they mean anyway? Do they symbolize their owner's belief that woman can't keep their hands off him? Could he really be that conceited?

Thinking of his actions, or lack thereof, over the last couple of days—the answer to that question is a resounding yes.

I chortle bitterly, startling Mr. Universe himself.

His head whips up to meet my contemptuous eyes. Not even a crack of a smile or a twist of emotion can be found on his face, and I'm pissed again.

"See something interesting?" I challenge before I can muzzle my trap.

He arches an eyebrow, lips turning downwards before his soft voice wafts over me. "Not in the least."

"Hey!" My voice screeches more than I would like it too. "What the hell have I done to offend you, anyway?"

His obnoxious snort interrupts my inner bitch.

"Great comeback, buddy," I mock lowly. "Pushing air through your nose."

We're at a bit of a standoff, gazes locked, lips pulled into grim lines when I finally sigh in exasperation and drop my gaze back to my pan.

"Whatever," I grumble, before focusing my attention on getting the eggs poached. I tilt the egg into the boiling water with far less finesse than required. Obviously it breaks. "Fuck."

"Everything going alright over here?" Esme's kind voice inquires behind me, and I feel like a little girl being reprimanded by her granny.

"I broke an egg." I can't sound more petulant and sulky even if I tried. I gaze up to find Edward staring at his frying bacon, one corner of his mouth pulled up slightly in a victorious smirk.

Douche.

"Far worse things can be broken, honey," Esme soothes with a chuckle. "These look fantastic, Bella," she says as she indicates to my finished work.

"Thank you." I smile proudly as she walks over to Edward, inspecting his fried bacon.

"A little on the crispy side, Edward."

I watch his sullen expression as he stares at the bacon Esme just tossed into the trash can.

"You'll get the hang of it," she encourages before placing the skillet back on the stove and walking off.

I deliberately snort loudly, which catches his Royal Highness's attention as intended. With a bright, fake smile especially for him, I grab the tray of finished eggs with a flourish, whip my ponytail over my shoulder and strut to the serving trays with my chin held high.

Edward Cullen can kiss my ass.

xoxo

"I'm not getting on that thing." I feel my feet digging into the ground as Lauren pulls me by the arm closer to the beast.

"Stop being such a little princess," she grounds out through clenched teeth, huffing at the exertion it's taking to haul my body closer to her target.

"You can't force me," I protest, feeling my knees wobble as we come to stand in front of what I'm sure will be the death of me.

"Wanna bet?" she snarks, placing her hands on her hips to take a deep breath.

"It's more afraid of you than you are of it," Sam, our instructor, comments behind me.

"It doesn't look afraid to me." I shake my head vehemently. Look, I might be a small-town girl, but I've lived in the city long enough to appreciate modern transportation. Like Meg Ryan said in French Kiss, I travel the way God intended people to travel—in a car.

"We're going to take it very slow, Bella." Sam is attempting encouragement, which I appreciate, even though it's completely useless. "Besides, you have to experience it on the beach." There is absolutely no amount of romance or adventure that is going to make me getting onto the back of a horse okay in any shape or form.

"How am I supposed to guide it without a steering wheel and brakes?" I'm on the verge of hysterics, staring at the mare, who's staring indifferently back at me.

"That's why you have stirrups, you baby." Ah, I can always count on Lauren's sweetness.

I allow myself to take in the other patients who have already mounted their elected horses, looking rather at ease with allowing an untamed animal to take them from point A to B.

Of course, Edward is one of those patients. And, of course, it looks like the horse is simply just another appendage of him, fitting perfectly to his lithe body.

I hate him so much right now.

Reluctantly, I allow Sam to help me onto the back of the horse. I wish I could say that it goes smoothly, but there is a lot of grunting and cursing involved as I awkwardly straddle the Palomino beneath me.

"Whoa, horsey," I coo uneasily as she shivers and whinnies restlessly.

And then, we're off. Luckily, Maria, my horse, knows the way as she gently starts to trot after the rest of the group.

I'm hopping awkwardly on her back as we make our way to the beach, my boobs juggling painfully against my chest. It would have been nice if someone told me a sports bra is required for these kinds of exercises.

Once we're on the soft sand, some of the more experienced riders take off, allowing their horses to run at break neck speed along the shoreline.

I can tell Maria is gearing up to go, but I'm pulling back on the reins with all the strength I have left in my hands and arms.

"Not so bad, is it?" Sam asks as his brown Arabian, as he calls it, moves in next to me.

My answer is a grunt, my attention to keeping Maria on the straight and narrow incapacitating my ability to respond verbally.

"Just keep her straight and don't pull on the reins too hard. It'll only hurt and irritate her," he warns.

I nod, loosening my grip minutely and allowing my gaze to lift from its fixed position on her neck.

I'm not even willing to acknowledge the fact that Edward is at the front of the group, riding his horse like a character out of an old Western movie.

"So, I hear you're from Forks?" Sam inquires casually.

"Yeah." I nod, finally able to allow myself to breathe a little easier, even though I can still feel the nervous tension in my neck and shoulders.

"I have friends that live on the reservation."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, only partly curious.

"Embry and Paul? Maybe you know them?"

"No." I smile at him sideways. "Sorry. I went to school in Forks. We didn't really get to mingle with the La Push kids a lot."

He smiles and shrugs and then we're silent again.

"So, what is it that you do?"

"Oh, um..." I clear my throat uncomfortably.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I don't mean to be intrusive. It's just that I've been in Forks, and it isn't actually a booming metropolis. And, knowing what a stint like this costs, I was just wondering..."

"Yeah, no, I understand," I interrupt him with a chuckle. "I'm a writer." In a way, I guess.

"Oh?" He seems surprised and excited for some reason. "Anything I've read?'

"Probably not." I shake my head. "I write mostly romance novels, you know?" My smile is a little forced. "Girly stuff."

"Oh." And now he sounds disappointed.

We remain mostly silent for the remainder of what feels like hours before we finally head back.

Sam steers his horse ahead, leaving me alone with Maria to face the small incline back to the stables. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement amongst the dense trees. I squint to get a better look, and there, in the midst of the tropical greenery stands a half-naked Emmett, pulling at the zipper of his jeans. A flash of blonde hair appears from the bushes behind him.

Rosalie?

I crane my neck to see a dishevelled looking Rosalie pull at the hem of her skirt.

What. The. Fuck?

Maria keeps on trotting, causing me to lose my view of them.

I 'park' my horse in confusion and wait for Sam to help me off the damn thing. The descent isn't much classier than the ascent as my ass pokes into the air, and I practically fall into his waiting arms.

"Easy does it." He chuckles behind me before setting me on my feet. I stumble slightly and grab onto the saddle to steady myself.

Sam steps away to help a few other riders, leaving me to compose myself and take a much needed breath.

I'm still pondering the possibility that Emmett and Rose were humping in the bushes when I notice Edward dismount his horse with elegant precision, landing firmly on his feet like a gracious cat.

He struts pass me with an air of lazy arrogance, and then very pointedly smirks in my direction, matching my earlier display in the kitchen quite nicely.

Touché, asshole. Touché.

xoxo

"I hate this place, Jasper."

"It's rehab, Bella. I didn't exactly expect you to want to put down roots." He chuckles on the other end.

"Yeah, I know," I admit with a huff. "It's just worse than I thought it would be."

"What? Aren't you making any friends?"

"If you can call my sadistic roommate a friend, then sure," I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes in honour of Lauren.

"And, Edward?" The million-dollar question.

"He hates me," I grumble, toying with a strand of my hair.

"I'm sure he hates everyone," Jasper attempts to comfort me.

"I suppose you're right." I sigh heavily, remembering the way he treated Lauren on my first day.

My first day that was only two nights ago. It feels like I've already been here a lifetime.

"Do we know what he's in for, yet?"

I laugh bitterly at his question. "Nope. Apparently Volturi has a non disclosure policy. In other words, you don't have to divulge your addiction in group."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, tell me about it." I chuckle. "Guess who outed herself as an alcoholic in front of everyone?"

"Oh, Bella." His laugh makes me feel minutely better and extremely homesick. "Tell me you didn't."

"'Fraid I can't." I shake my head regretfully.

"I'm sorry, babe. We should have sent you in better prepared." He actually sounds remorseful which I appreciate to some degree.

"I think there are a lot of things in here you wouldn't have been able to prepare me for, so don't sweat it."

"What's your plan then, Bells?" He's definitely concerned, and I can tell he wants to push, but is apprehensive to do so.

"I don't know, Jazz. I mean, it's like the island air has turned me into a total spaz."

"You step out of New York for two minutes and you lose your cool? That's not the Bella Swan I know," he teases good-naturedly, trying to lift my spirits. It would have worked if I wasn't acutely aware of how much he'd lose if I don't succeed. This is not my friend speaking. It's my boss.

"You told me to be the Bella I was when I first stepped into your office. Well, mission accomplished." I never imagined it would be possible for me to transform back into the fumbling, awkward teenager I was when I left Forks. Well, the jokes on me, I guess.

"I was referring to the sweetness, not the rest."

"Yeah well, you've got the whole package regardless." I know I'm sounding pretty sorry for myself, but I'm out of my comfort zone. I have no idea how to get my mojo back.

"Listen, Bells." I can tell one of Jasper's renowned pep talks is about to ensue. "You're there because you're the best in the business. So, you've had a few hiccups, just get back on the horse and do your thing, honey."

"So not funny," I scold him for making fun of my earlier horseback riding adventure.

"It's a little funny."

"Maybe a little," I concede with a small giggle, feeling my spirits rise ever so slightly.

"Look, no one said it was going to be easy." I nod even though he can't see me. "But I have faith in you. Now, you have some faith in yourself too, and Edward Cullen won't stand a chance."

"Okay," I answer softly.

"You know you can leave whenever you want to, right? I won't force you to stay Bella, no matter how badly I want this story." Now this is my friend speaking.

"I know." I smile into the receiver. "I'm not ready to give up, just yet."

"That's my girl." I can tell he's grinning too which makes me smile a little wider.

"He might not like me, but at least I've gotten him to acknowledge my existence." It's a step, whether it's forward or backwards remains to be seen.

"It's a step in the right direction," Jasper echoes my internal thoughts.

"Hey?" I ask, remembering to ask something I've thought about earlier today. "Have you told my parents where I am?"

"I have." I sigh a breath of relief. "They weren't all too impressed."

"I can imagine," I grumble, knowing that my parents don't exactly approve of my current job. Can't say I blame them. When I left Washington for New York, I was set on pursuing a serious journalism career. They're still holding onto that hope, whereas I've found myself giving up on that dream more and more with each passing year.

"They'll come around as they always do."

"Yeah."

Everyone comes around eventually.

Edward will be no different.

I hope.

xoxo

"My whole body hurts," I complain as I fall onto the bed like a sack of potatoes after taking a long shower.

"Given the star quality you showed on that horse today, I'm not surprised," Lauren drawls lazily from her own bed.

I can't help but chuckle, because in all honesty, I can only imagine how comical it must have looked. I feel a lot lighter and far more determined after I finished my conversation with Jasper. I'm way too lost in my head over this whole thing. I need to roll with the punches and get my shit together. It's what I do...and it's time I start doing it better.

"You were rather impressive, though. Do you have horses back home?" I ask, turning to my side with a groan to watch her as she writes in her sparkly pink journal.

"Don't all rich people have horses?"

I shrug.

"Aren't you rich?" She raises her head from her journal to watch me sceptically.

"Not really."

"Huh," is all she says before she turns her attention back to her writing. "Shouldn't really be surprised given the way you dress."

Always so full of compliments, this girl.

But maybe she has a point. Maybe I should be more conscious of what I'm wearing. I mean, Edward is rich. If it matters to Lauren, then maybe the way I dress matters to Edward too. As far as I can tell, they're both equally conceited—Edward maybe even more so.

And then, a plan begins to form, and before long a smile is there to follow it.

I've been told I've got game.

Maybe it's time I start playing...

xoxo

Visual for this chapter - Edward's tattoo - will be posted on my Twitter account. (SaintsMistress) I'll also post the link on my ffnet profile. (NSFW!)

Fic recommendation:

In the Waves by Jadalulu – trust me, you're gonna wanna read it.

Hope you're enjoying the ride so far, lovely girls.

With love...

Your Mistress

xoxo