Page 2 of Virtual Seduction

I refused to let anyone hurt me like that again. Once was one too many. All the many nights I'd spent in the hospital, crying myself to sleep, waking up only to burst into tears again, skipping important meals, losing weight. Even the doctors hadn't been sure I'd survive.

It hadn't been easy to admit I couldn't recognize myself anymore; the laid back, happy-go-lucky girl I used to be. Just like smoke, she evaporated into thin air. I became a shell of who I was and collapsed into a chaotically baked pie of brokenness and defeat. It had taken all my strength to fight for that girl to find her way back after losing so much—a love that never was, and a future that should've never been. But I'd done it.

Although not all of it was bad, my parents were there. I couldn't have hidden it from them, of course. My mother had been more supportive, but my father, a man who somehow managed to outshine his children in every single way, was the most constant. Too constant, in fact. Breathing down my neck, never giving me a moment to catch my breath, always lurking in the shadows with that accusatory glare but never saying a word. But I hadn't needed him to say the words out loud for me to hear what they meant: “This is all your fault."

But in reality, it was his fault. Growing up in a house where you knew you were loved but didn't feel loved was hard. Later in adulthood, I began to understand how almost impossible it seemed to cross that distance and let myself experience closeness. So, when I finally did open up, it would be with a wildness and recklessness that superseded reason.

I knew my father blamed me for falling in love. After all, he'd warned me against the relationship from the start. And when it blew up in my face, Stephen Wiley never got over it. One would have thought he'd be more concerned with his daughter's well-being than proving a point, but the Wileys had always done things differently.

And so, I rebelled. I got better, picked myself up, and moved on with my life. Deep down inside, a part of me hated him for not being the father I needed then. For pointing his finger when he should have gathered me in his arms and held me close. For always trying to control my life.

But then I decided I'd hit him where it hurt the most, working for another company. As a video game designer, my father had wanted me to work at Blizzard Games for as long as I could remember. It was the only reason he'd supported my design career. And though he'd gotten what he wanted with my older brother, Derick, who was the lead programmer at Blizzard Games, I refused to give him that satisfaction.

I refused to let him dictate my path. If my ordeal had taught me anything, it was that I held the reins of my life—no one else.

Still, a part of me had hoped my father would try at least. I knew it was his first time here on earth too, and he had it rough when he was little, but I was little, too. I needed his protection and his love. Not the crumbs he'd given me. I was a woman of twenty-three, but that little girl of nineteen still lived somewhere inside me, hoping, and praying that her father would be just that: her father. Not the hardened, emotionally unavailable man he'd become.

Stephen Wiley might think he was tough, but he had no idea what kind of woman he was dealing with. I felt nothing toward him but anger, and no force on earth was stronger than a woman's wrath.

Nevertheless, AaRogue was just a means to an end. I'd gone without human companionship for so long that I'd missed what it felt like to be wanted by a man. AaRogue provided that. I had no doubt that whatever this was would come to an end sooner rather than later.

Soon, the hypothetical four walls of Jungle Justice wouldn’t be enough, and he would start wanting more. More wasn’t a word I kept in my dictionary. When that time came, I would let AaRogue down gently, nip this in the bud, and close the chapter.

The last thing I needed was to let myself fall for the wrong person again. Men were all the same. Manipulative and untrustworthy.

My mind drifted to him. The man who destroyed my heart. I wondered if he was happy or as miserable as he'd made me. But it didn't matter. There was a time when I would've given anything to make us work, but now all I felt toward him was a numbness that even rage could not penetrate through.

I decided long ago that he wasn't worth it.

two

Aaron

I couldn't stop thinking about Licia, but something about Felicity Wiley made me stop and stare.

It couldn't be her intoxicating presence because she mostly kept to herself, choosing only to speak to her other colleagues when necessary. The only person she willingly spoke to was her friend, Madeline, and even then, there was a bit of reservation in her.

And I was willing to bet it wasn't her exquisite beauty. Most of the time, her heart-shaped face was obstructed by those ridiculously big, round glasses she wore. Plus, her clothes were always three sizes too big, and she never wore pants, just long, unflattering skirts. Or the fact that her head was usually buried in that sketchbook, which she carried everywhere with her.

So, what the fuck was it?

My brows shot up. Maybe it was her breasts. Those round, shapely globes sitting pretty on her chest caught my attention whenever she was near. My cock stirred in my pants, hardening instantly.

I watched her from my office window, my eyes following every moment she made. She sat at her desk, pencil in one hand and a stress ball in the other. Her tiny, delicate fingers wrapped around the soft ball and tightened. I swallowed, wondering how I could get turned on by such an innocent action.

Everyone knew Felicity was off-limits. Her father was Stephen Wiley, the CEO of Blizzard Games, OceansPlay's number one competitor. It was a shock to find out that she'd chosen to work at a company other than her father's, especially one that had been competing with Stephen Wiley for almost a decade.

Nevertheless, the man had put out a threat to anyone with a cock, and it spread throughout the gaming world: Stay away from my daughter. No tangible reason, no follow-up statement. Just a ridiculous threat that wouldn’t likely deter most men.

At least, that was how I saw it. I'd heard other men say they wouldn't cross Stephen Wiley for half a million dollars. It wasn't surprising, given that the man was arguably the most powerful in our world, and he could ruin a career before it even started.

Still, it begged the question. If he didn't want any men near his daughter, then why the hell was she working in another company, surrounded by men, with tits that could bring a fucking giant down and pink lips that were practically begging me for a taste?

Okay, so I had it bad. But who could blame me? I was only human, flesh and blood. I saw something enticing. I liked it; I wanted it.

And God help me, I wanted Felicity with a ferociousness that scared me. There was nothing pure about my intentions toward her. I wanted to press her up against a wall, spread her legs apart, and sink myself into her wet heat.

I wanted to know what her moans sounded like. Would she squeak or scream? Or would it be a throaty sound that I was sure would set my blood on fire?

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