DANIELmistake.That is what it should be.Every second from the moment she walked inside and I lost my fucking cool to when she detoDand in my hold as if she’s waited her entire life for me to come along.As if she’s been saving up for me, for the moment she’d explode all around me, strangle my fingers, and refuse to let them go.And it all started with when I saw her hopping off the kid’s motorcycle. Her lips were red and her hair was blown by the wind and she was smiling. Wide.I should’ve looked the other way and kept my distance, as usual—that is what I have done ever since I moved in. I make sure she has everything she needs from afar. Like her stock of vanilla ice cream, her milkshakes—vanilla again—and her favorite fruit, bananas, just because there is not a version of vanilla fruit.Martha has specific orders to let me know when those things run out so one of us can take care of getting more.It is all because of Krew, I told myself. If it were him, he would’ve made sure she

“Uh-huh. Because you made me want to be a woman.”“You wanted to be a woman for me?”“Yeah.”“Why?”“Because you had touch me. You had want me.”“That means these nipples belong to me, do not they?” He squeezes one roughly, sternly, and I whimper, but it breaks into a moan when he cups my core just as hard. “This pussy is mine, too. It is my pussy, is not it?”“Oh, fuck…”“Language.”“Mmm.”“Answer me, Genevieve. Whose pussy is this?”“Yours.”“That is right. Mine. So why did you give it to someone else? Why did another fucker look at my pussy, let alone touch it?”God. If he keeps talking this dirty, I might come here and now.“Because you weren’t there…you weren’t touching me, so I had to let the boys do it, but you know what?”“What?” He’s pulling my panties down my legs, and I do not focus on the trail of wetness that is coating my thighs. I do not focus on how shamelessly I am drenching his fingers, because I am preoccupied with something else.His face holds me hostage. His beau

“Because…because she’s mean.”“Has she been mean to you?”“She does not even talk to me.”“Exactly. So why do you think she’s mean?”“Everyone at W&S thinks she is.”“I am not going to dig into everyone’s reason for thinking that. I am asking about yours.”“Well…Dad hates her.”“You are not your dad, Genevieve.”“Whoever Dad hates, I hate. It is that simple. We’re one like that.”“Is that why you have not visited him in a week?”She jolts at that, her lips clamping shut. So, I was right. She’s been avoiding him or her feelings about what happened to him.Silence stretches between us for long moments and only the sound of the boiling water can be heard in the air.She clinks her nails in that fast, manic way that betrays her inner turmoil.“Answer me, Genevieve.”“I…just got busy with the internship. I’ll do it later.”“Later when? Tomorrow? Next week?”“Just later.” She turns to leave, probably to go hide in the nearest closet.“Stop.”She flinches, her nails still clinking together,

“You do not know?” Chris asks while Jane retrieves another bottle of water and drinks from it with a straw. She can act like a real princess sometimes.“I do not. It just happened. I am not sure if it was all in one go or gradually, but it just did, and I actually realized it when I was fifteen. I also realized it was impossible to fight it. I tried at first. I really, really tried. He’s Dad’s best friend and partner and the same age as him, so it should be wrong. It felt wrong, and that is why I did my best to forget about him. But I wasn’t able to.” And it kind of hurts sometimes. Like right now, when he is not around and I can not call or text, because he’s in a meeting and I am not supposed to be disturbing him.“How about him?” Chris asks. “Does he share your feelings?”“He…he’s just taking care of me until I am twenty-one.”Chris steals more of my fries. “So it is unrequited?”“I guess.” The crush and the stupid feelings are, anyway. The physical is not, because I can tell he wa

His jaw clenches and I can tell how much he’s aroused now, because his nostrils flare and the possessiveness washes over me in waves. It is why I say things like that; I know they make him shed his control and turn into the powerful dominant who’s able to tear my world to pieces.And then he curses and I get wetter at the thought that he wants me so much, he can not contain it. Other men sound coarse when they curse, he sounds hotter than sin.“What’s mine?” His voice is thicker, deeper.“My pussy. It is yours.”“Fuck.”“Yes, please fuck me.”He closes his eyes, and even though his jaw is in a rigid line, I think he’s trying to conjure some form of patience, but when he opens them, he is not calm. On the contrary, his eyes are nearly black with all the shadows crowding his masculine face.“What did you just say, baby girl?”“Fuck me.” It is barely a murmur now, a bit unsure since he’s pressing hard on both my nipples and my clit, playing with the tight tips, teasing and rolling them b