The toilet flushes, the sink runs, and the door creaks open. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” her hand rests on her hip. “Actually, who am I kidding, I don’t owe you an explanation! I don’t owe anyone an explanation. This is who I am. I’m a woman who sold her soul to Legacy Bank to buy a rooftop condo in a city no one likes so I could post pictures on the internet for people who don’t matter to think I’m a success. And you’re right, the bikini pics are for attention, because it’s the only interaction I believe. My mother spent years reinforcing what a train wreck I am, reminding me how I’d never be good enough for anybody. I guess somewhere down the line, I started to believe her. So… hook-ups became my thing, and I’m not ashamed of it.” She sinks back down into the bed and lays next to me, her stare heavy with mine as she crawls up onto my frame. “So if you think you can fuck the cancer out of me… go ahead… try. In fact, I dare you.”
My blood runs cold as I stare up at her. “Cancer?”
Her brows narrow and her gaze hollows, like I’ve crossed a line she’d clearly set. “Don’t say that word. Fuck me. Fuck me and make me forget. Make me forget everything!” Her tiny frame is postured over me so perfectly that with one lift of her dress, I could press my hard cock into her without much effort at all.
I lift my hand to her face and hold her against my palm.How could this young, beautiful woman be dying? How could she have cancer?
“The second I knocked on your door, to bring you to the ship, I wanted you,” I say, my gaze on hers. “You’re beautiful, mouthy, and perfectly you. I want all of that, but I’m too old for you, too bad for you, and you deserve better.”
She stares at me long and hard, a sweet smile curving up onto her face. “Was that so hard?”
“Hard enough,” I grumble, still embarrassed for putting my emotions out on display so freely.
“Well then,” she says, “now that we’ve confirmed you like me, and I’ve confirmed I’m dying… I think we could move this party along a little faster, don’t you think?” She leans into my lips kissing them gently. She’s so close that my cock presses into her mound through the fabric of her dress. And the parts of me that had been eternally asleep, wake up again.
“We have all the time in the world, Cinderella. We don’t need to rush anything. We’ll get you more bloodwork. I’ll do whatever I have to. You’re not going to die.”
Her gaze meets mine, and her voice lowers, “Then give me something to live for.”
With that, my cock twitches against my boxers and the fight subsides, because I’m not sure what, if any, is the rebuttal to that.
Chapter Seven
Lucy
Cancer.I’ve said the word out loud. A word I promised myself I wouldn’t say. Mostly because the second I say it, it’s real. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself. Truthfully, it’s no more real now than it was twenty minutes ago when it was securely locked inside my head. And now, I have this weird thing going with Saint and Dante. I swear, only I could find myself in a mess like this. Saint is handsome and sure of himself, even a little arrogant, but I can see there’s a softness beneath the surface that he shows too few people. Dante is more open with his emotions, but I get the feeling he does as he’s asked. I guess it doesn’t really matter either way, I’m living in the moment.
Saint kisses my forehead and grips the back of my neck, before rolling me onto my back, his large body easily taking command of me, and I like it that way.
My clit throbs and my pulse hammers against the side of my throat. “Take me hard, Saint. I need you.” My response is breathy as my body begs to be used by him.
He growls and bends into me further, his cock grinding into my stomach as he heaves. “Sit up and take off the dress slowly. I want to see you, all of you.”
With our gaze locked, I follow his lead up from the bed and take off my sundress, exposing my bare chest and a pair of pink panties, which I quickly remove. He sits in a chair opposite the bed and pulls out his cock, stroking it in his hand as he watches me. I’m not sure why he’s gone so far away, and I miss the heat of his body and walk toward him, but he holds up a hand.
“Bend over on the bed,” he says, his voice warm and deep. Even from this distance, I can see his cock is huge.
I do as he’s asked and bend onto the bed, my ass in the air, my swollen pussy open for him to take.
“Good girl,” he says. “I’m surprised you listened.”
“Don’t let it go to your head, gangster. I’m in desperate need of dick.”
He clears his throat. “Then it plays to my favor that you’ll let me do whatever I like with you.”
His words are like velvet after a warm bath on a winter night.
I rock my hips back and forth. “Yes! Just do something, quick! I’m dying.”
There’s silence for a moment before the door opens and closes.
What the hell? Did he leave? I hadn’t imagined that leaving was what he had in mind when he decided to do whatever he wanted to me. Though, I guess I asked for it.
Turning around, I plan to grab my sundress off the ground and tuck myself under the covers for the night. I think I’ve had enough of whatever is happening. But standing in the doorway like a hungry bear is Dante.
I could cover up, and ask him to leave, but if Dante is here to join, I’m not sure I can turn him away. This is my fantasy, my book coming to life. I’m not sure what it is that turns me on so much. Maybe it’s the overwhelming adoration, or the warm heat of multiple bodies all over me, or the complete and udder dedication to pleasure.
“Do you want him to leave?” Saint’s voice is steady and sure, but I can’t figure out why he’d want this, why he’d ever be okay with his best friend, his employee, his underling touching my body. He seemed so jealous earlier at the thought of Dante and I when we were only talking.