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She knew she held a lot of issues when it came to love and affection. For so long, she’d gone without. She was the outcast, the bastard child nobody wanted. Any kind of affection was like a drug to her. All she ever wanted was love, and well, her father saw her as nothing more than a pawn to be used. He didn’t care about her at all. He’d never loved her, and most of the time, she was okay with that, at least she tried to tell herself repeatedly she was okay with that.

“I’m going to have to teach you how to ride a bike,” he said.

“You mean by myself?”

“You’re a strange woman. Yes, to ride a bike and by yourself. I can’t wait to see you all in leather.” Forge frowned. “What did your father let you do exactly?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t allowed to do anything, until recently. He, erm…” She felt her cheeks start to heat at the memory of the women who’d come to visit her. “He had some women teach me how to have sex. I’m still a virgin, but they had to show me what a man likes.”

“How?” Forge asked.

“I had to watch dirty movies so I would know what was expected of me. My dad said he’d have gotten me proper training as a slut if my virginity didn’t carry such a high price.” She didn’t want to think about what he had planned for her if Forge ever gave her back.

Forge took her hand. “Your dad isn’t sounding good in my books right now. Come on. I’m hungry.” He led the way into the diner, putting their dialogue to rest.

The place was small, quiet, and she liked it the moment she stepped foot inside. The smell of grease, batter, and bacon filled the air, tempting her. Her mouth watered for whatever they had on offer. She wasn’t picky.

Forge found them a booth. The fabric was faded and torn. It looked like cats had even scratched them at some point, but she didn’t care.

It was so far from what she was used to, growing up with her father and his bubble of false perfection, and she loved the diner’s unique charm. Smiling, she waited to see what Forge would order.

A waitress came to take their order and she listened to Forge order. His voice was deep and gravely, and she swore she could feel the sound all the way to her core. Her excitement started to disappear when she realized he’d only ordered one meal. Was she supposed to watch him and starve herself? This had been too good to be true.

It wouldn’t be the first time—her father had tried to starve her. The curves she’d possessed for as long as she could remember had disgusted her father. She’d been on many diets, but the curves were part of who she was. Some of the kitchen staff would take pity on her and leave her food, but if they ever got caught, their lives wouldn’t have been worth living.

“Well?” Forge asked, bringing her attention back to him.

“What?”

“What do you want to eat?” he asked.

“You want to know what I want to eat?”

He smiled and looked toward the waitress. “Give us a minute, would you?”

Had she done something wrong? She’d been a good girl. It was what she was used to, being the good girl.

“Are you hungry or not?” he asked.

“I’m starving.”

“Then pick something, dammit.” He pointed to the menu.

“I can pick my own food?”

Forge took a deep breath and she winced.

“I don’t mean to piss you off.”

“Your dad again, right? He didn’t allow you to pick your own food or some shit?”

“He, erm, he controlled everything. I wasn’t allowed anything unless he said so.” She looked down at her hands, feeling a wave of shame wash over her. She hadn’t stayed willingly with her father. Many times, she’d tried to get away but it was impossible to leave a monster determined to keep up appearances.

“You’re not with him anymore. Pick up the menu, order something you want to eat, and don’t be worried about what I think, either. Food is food. Fucking enjoy it. I’m not like guys who enjoy watching their women eat a salad. You want a burger, have one, or whatever it is you want.”

“You really mean that?”

“Babe, you’re going to realize when I speak, I say exactly what I mean, because I don’t believe in lying or bullshitting. Now are you going to pick something to eat or watch me? I don’t share my food.”


Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Breeding Season Erotic