“What the fuck is so funny?” He snaps.
“Has the beast fallen for the beauty?” It’s as if I’m asking myself that question. And the answer would be yes. I’ve not only fallen, but I’ve also surrendered my balls on a silver platter. I would do just about anything to make her mine forever.
I continue to sip on my scotch while listening to Heath give himself a goddamn heart attack over his predicament. It sure is one. I can attest to that. Falling for the young and untouchable. Oh, do I know how wrong it is. I debate on responding with ‘at least she’s not your best friend’s daughter,’ but take another sip to hide my humor. Or is it stress? Fuck. He goes on and on. Worried about how Hazel would take the news if she found out. I can’t argue with him. She’ll be upset. Hazel has always been this sweet girl hiding behind this firecracker of a woman. She’s been dealt a lot in her young life, and it’s forced her to grow up too fast. Not that I’m complaining about the woman she’s become.
Maybe I should be the smarter of us two and tell him to cut it off now before shit gets to be too much and there’s no going back. Instead, I convince him his daughter would accept it in the hope that he reads between the lines and doesn’t murder me when she confesses the same sin.
My phone alert tells me Hazel is almost here. I give Heath the runaround, then leave him drowning in his own thoughts. As I walk through the club, I call for my car, then speed through downtown until the streets become less hectic and I’m driving up to my estate. My mind runs rabid with my filthy plans. Having her back in my grasp and taking everything she offers. And then taking some more.
I find her waiting for me, her silhouette glowing under the entryway light. My appetite heightens, but it’s not for an aged single malt. It’s for the sweetness of her cunt. The sugary taste of her skin. The softness of her smile alone quenches my thirst.
I drink her in, dressed in a short sweater dress, her hair falling angelically down her slender back. I don’t bother to pull my car into the garage and climb out, loosening my tie as I make my way up the corridor.
“Hey, I didn’t know if I should just go in or wait—”
I don’t allow her the chance to finish. I scoop her up into my arms, not resisting the opportunity, and spank her hard and firmly. Her sexy little squeal wakens my cock, and I carry her inside and straight down to my playroom like a barbarian.
Two days later…
I have Hazel sprawled out on my bed, quenched, and panting from a round of the most amazing sex I’ve ever had. Yet again, I’ve broken another one of my rules. I’ve royally fucked and sated Hazel in my bed. Not the one in my playroom, but in my private bedroom, where I allow no one but myself and the maid. I’m still trying to catch my own breath as she leans over and snuggles against my chest.
No matter how hard I take her, I cannot get enough. Hazel’s become this vice I can’t quit. She’s been in my playroom countless times, and still, I can’t quench my thirst. I. Need. More.
The days she’s not in my bed are torturous. They’re only forty-eight-hour gaps, but still, the absence puts me on edge.
I’ve been a motherfucker at work too. Fired three people for looking at me the wrong way. Even fired one for simply having blonde hair, reminding me of Hazel and how I couldn’t have her at the drop of a hat. I debated on convincing Heath he needed his little girl closer to home. Colleges were where sweet angels got assaulted by college boys, and she was better off at a local school. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch. And to have her close again…I’d homeschool her ass myself.
When I began this, it was a game—an itch I’d been dying to scratch. A last wish if I actually went through with it. But things have changed. I crave her every second of every goddamn day, and it’s killing me. Disrupting my work. Heath is right to call me a grumpy motherfucker. If I’m not deep inside his daughter, that’s who I become. She is a drug. Her sweet pussy. Her throaty moans. Her smooth, delectable skin. But also her laugh. The way she looks at me when she thinks I don’t notice. The way her fingers feel grazing down my back when she thinks I’m asleep and needs to touch me to know this is real—that we are real.
This brings up another thing that has my mind darkening. What the hell am I really doing? Living in a goddamn fantasy, thinking Hazel and I have anything more than a forbidden affair. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes I’m the villain and runs far away from me.
If Heath can do it, so can you.
A bastard like me can only dream. I can pretend what we’re doing isn’t wrong, but in the end, it’s my funeral. Heath will resent me and possibly her for her poor decisions. And for that, I need to make some decisions. He loves her with all his being. How would our relationship taint how he sees her? I wouldn’t live long enough to find out.
The thought of losing Heath as a friend further sours my mood.
Every single day, I take from people. In my line of business, being ruthless is the only way I know. It’s what makes me filthy, fucking rich. But some things come with too high of a price tag, one being my friendship with Heath. And for that, I have to make a decision—one where fewer people get hurt.
“What’s got you so quiet? Thinking of ways to violate me in your master shower?” Hazel pulls me back to the present. I bask in the feel of her breasts resting against my chest and her fingernails grazing up and down my stomach.
I run my hands through her hair. “I’m thinking about all the toys I have yet to shove up your pretty little asshole.” Lies. I’m thinking about whether I should keep you or let you go.
Her lips press against my chest, and I memorize the way they feel against my skin.
“I feel a challenge coming on.” Her soft giggle guts me because I know what I need to do.
I need to set her free. Tonight. Because if I don’t, I’ll never be able to let her go.
Hazel
Instead of getting a tour of sex toys, Gabriel insists we go for a swim. My body is already becoming sore, so a dip in the cool water sounds like a great idea.
Like a gentleman, he carries me outside, insisting on zero clothing. He’ll just be tearing it off anyhow.
“Jesus, do you host the water Olympics here?” I gasp at how gigantic his pool is. It has to be three times the size of ours.
“I like big things.” He chuckles and walks us into the pool. I keep hold of him, my arms wrapped around his neck, and enjoy the smell of him.
“I seem to like big things too,” I reply, giggling at the double meaning. He doesn’t respond. He holds me as we float around in his pool. I love the way we’ve become so comfortable with each other. So at ease. I love how perfectly I fit in his arms. How right we feel together. And I know he senses it too. I can tell when I catch him looking at me. Stealing glances. Little does he know, I’m doing the same. As if we can’t get enough. And I never want that to end.
I move my head away from his shoulder, stealing a peek at his beautiful eyes. “How do you think it will be when we’re all together again?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, moving closer to the side of the pool.
“Us. Like my dad and you. How different will it be?”