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Now that I have more answers than questions, I can breathe a bit easier. There’s enough of the story to at least puzzle it out. I still don’t have his fucking name, but that can wait.
Once again, guilt tightens my chest. Guilt that I never followed up over her silence. Guilt that I didn’t know anything was wrong.
The only thing worse than knowing I pushed her away is that I pushed her into the arms of someone who hurt her.
“Fuck,” I blast.
Rolling out my neck, I scroll back to the past.
An image of Dakota at Lake Cascade with Fallon, me, and my brothers. A day that stands out in my mind as a top-tier memory.
With a wild whoop, she had jumped into the icy water, and like a fool, I followed her in.
The photo hits like a sucker punch.
She’s cheesing so hard her beautiful brown eyes looked closed. I can see her nipples through the thin fabric of the skimpy bikini she wears, her tight little ass breaking the surface of the lake.
And then there’s a memory that the photo doesn’t show.
Me dragging Dakota under the dock and peeling off those thin bikini bottoms. Slapping her tight little ass as she bounced on my cock and rubbed her tits in my face. All while our siblings splashed twenty feet away.
Koty.
My Dakota.
Mine.
Suddenly, it’s not just her memory I want, I wanther. I crave her taste, crave her wild, black hair dragging down my stomach, her supple ass straddling my hips, delicate hands scraping over the muscle of my back.
Dangerous, torturous beauty.
Look, but don’t touch.
Duty, not desire.
A ragged groan rips from my chest. I’m hard as a rock, and I loathe it. Loathe what she does to me. Loathe the way I’m giving in, already reaching for the zipper of my jeans.
Helplessly, I grit my teeth.
Before I can stop myself, I’m standing over my desk with my cock out. Pleasure licks its way up my spine as I use my hand to get myself off like I’m a fucking teenager all over again. I stroke myself in a frenzy to get her out of my mind. My veins. My heart.
Wrong. So goddamn wrong.
“Fuck, fuck, Dakota,” I pant, hating myself, yet unable to stop the hard milking of my shaft.
She’s still in my bloodstream. She’s never been gone. Not for a hot fucking second. Never.
Now I’m calling a code-red on my cock all because she’s living under my roof.
Goddamn, I don’t have a chance.
My body shakes, shudders. Then, with one final violent wrench of my cock, I erupt. My release covers the desktop as my roar tears through the air, while the security monitors blink red.
Panting, I sit back down and bow my head.
So much for fucking duty.
Showered and wrapped in a fluffy white towel, I sit on the edge of my bed and check my phone. The text confirming my doctor’s appointment has my stomach churning. A favor my father pulled with his connections at the hospital. My small town moves slowly, except when it moves fast.
