Page 330 of Cindersmellya


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My entire life is a testament to the fact that I don't need to do what the world expects me to do. Instead, I only need to do what makes me happy.

See, that's what the world doesn't seem to understand.

They think because there are some things that everyone is doing that it's the only path. And that anyone who doesn't follow that path is doing something wrong or must be some sort of deviant.

Yes, I worked in an office. On Wall Street. In the world of high finance. I did it after graduating from Stanford. I did everything that people said I should.

And I hated every minute of it.

That's why when you first met me, it wasn't at the offices of Carter Jeffries on Wall Street as a private equity banker.

It was right after I got the Penny Worlein Toys order. Remember? When I started to use the bullet that was synced to my Kindle?

God, it seems so long ago.

And now here I am. My feet are moving of their own accord up to the raised podium that Drake and Sloane are standing behind.

I see their eyes on me.

For once, Sloane doesn't look like he wants to rip my clothes off. I wonder if I should be worried. But no, the look of lust isn't there.

It's replaced with concern. And worry.

He loves me.

I look over to Drake.

He loves me too.

They both love me. They both care for me.

And you know what? I love both of them. For different reasons.

Drake is strong. Silent. Stable. Always in control. He's an alpha male that will always protect me.

Sloan will always protect me as well. But he's confident to the point of cocky. He's a bad boy. Dirty. Filthy. But he lives for the moment and he will always put my pleasure above anything else.

By themselves, any woman would be lucky to be with them.

Together, I'm in heaven.

It's precious. So precious that I can't let anything take it away from me.

I have to defend it.

"Hello, everyone," I say into the microphone. "My name is Natalie Vanderhill. And I make sex toys for a living.”

Sound familiar?

The reporters are buzzing and the flash photography is going. I know Sloan was probably complaining about this, wasn't he?

For someone who is flashy himself, he really doesn't like cameras. Place a few cameras together and he's talking about a thousand suns or whatever.

Although, I don't know how he handled the bit when he was up here, because these photographers are having a field day.

"I graduated from Stanford University and went to work at Carter Jeffries three years ago," I begin and the crowd starts to quiet down. "But I didn't want to work for someone else. So I began to work in an area that I loved. Sex."

A small murmur, but I think I'm not saying anything new at this point.

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