The last bell rings and I snap my eyes to Callum as she tries like hell to pack all her things and escape. “Stay after class or get detention, Miss Madison.”
Her shoulders sag, defeat in all the lines of her ridged body. She turns as soon as the last person leaves my class. “Why are you doing this?” she pleads. Allowing me to see the pools of blue after what feels like forever.
I rise, walking to my door and shutting it. I leave it unlocked so she doesn’t feel like a trapped animal. “Because we need to talk.” I turn, wanting to walk to her, grab her, and smash her body to mine. But instead, I walk back over to my desk, taking a seat.
“Actually, we do,” she says. The lack of bows is killing me inside. It was her signature style. Now, instead of standing out, she tries to blend in. But she is naïve. She is like the moon on a cloudy night. Shining through the fog while the stars merely evaporated. She points to the necklace that still lays clasped around her delicate neck. “You need to remove this, Mr. Boyd.”
“Never.”
Her mouth parts, eyes wide in shock. “Even after everything you know?”
I go to respond, but my phone rings, cutting me off. I hold up a finger. “Do not leave. We’re not done here yet.”
I pick up my phone, hitting the Answer button. “Hello.” I look up in time to see my classroom door shut.Damn it.
I gather up my things, intending to chase after her, when the words stop me, “He admitted it.”
I freeze, everything inside of me halting. “Repeat that.”
“We fucking got him.”
* * *
I work out a lot.I’m in top physical condition, but scaling up this sketchy trellis covered in vines has me questioning if I need to add more to my daily workout. I know Richard has never had to take care of his daughter but putting this thing directly outside her window is asking for trouble. If I can make it up here, so can horny teenagers.
I slowly push open the window, climbing in. She lays asleep, face tilted to the ceiling. I walk closer, studying the sharp curves of her cheekbones, the dusting of freckles she hides. And then, slowly, I ease on top of her. Placing my hand over her mouth.
Her eyes shoot open, wide with panic as she struggles against me. Eyes narrowing when she sees it’s me. Her body relaxes slightly. I unbuckle my belt, pulling it free from the loops, and bind it around her wrists. “You better be very fucking quiet, Doll Face.” She nods, her legs squeezing together under mine. I tie the belt to the headboard, causing her back to arch, her nipples hardening beneath the night shirt she’s wearing.
I pull on her sleep shorts, hastily throwing them away. I pull the knife from my pants, splitting the fabric of her shirt up the middle until all that’s left is her perfect body on display. “Lincoln,” she shakes her head, “we can’t do this.”
I cup her pussy, my hand instantly drenching with her arousal. “Your mouth is saying one thing, but your body begs for another. Why can’t we?” She bites her lip, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration as I move my palm against her clit. “Isn’t this exactly what you want? What you wrote in that white leather journal of yours?”
“Yes, but—” I slip a finger inside her, stroking her lightly.
“But what? You don’t want to be Daddy’s perfect little slut anymore?”
“Richard is my biological father. Which makes you my uncle,” she hisses.
“It makes sense now. Why you were instantly attracted to me. The light eyes, black hair, they’re all similar features to your father’s.” I bend my head down, sucking a nipple into my mouth and releasing it with a pop. She swallows a moan. “My twisted little slut. Admit it.”
I add another finger, going straight for her sweet spot. She shudders, her body breaking out into goose bumps as she floods my fingers. “You liked me because I look like him.”
“You need to get out of my room. Now.” I kiss along the valley between her breasts. Sucking to mark the skin there.
“Oh, I will, but not before I tell you that Richard is my stepbrother. We are not biologically anything.”
Her mouth parts, understanding flashing on her face. “Because your dad is…”
“Dead,” I finish for her, rising off the bed.
“Wait. You can’t leave me like this,” she pleads.
I smirk, turning over my shoulder. “Think of it as punishment for once again not listening.” I crawl through the window, leaving her helplessly strapped to her headboard. Making a mental note to come cut this fucking trellis down so no one else can sneak up to her room.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Journal entry: I wish I could understand my own feelings. Maybe then, this wouldn’t be so hard.