Aspen had explained exactly what happened, and the look on his face when she told him that Poison Ivy was me. She’d had a front row seat to him figuring it out. She just didn’t knowwhathe was figuring out until I told her my side, and she could connect the dots for herself.
It made me even more grateful that I’d followed my gut and confided in Aspen and Ivy. How long would I have gone before I figured it out? Before he was honest with me?
I shook my head, bringing myself back to the task at hand. None of the what-ifs mattered because I knew now, which made the small camera sitting, hidden, above my bookshelf that much more comical.
I knew it was wrong. I knew I should be furious. I should call the cops and have the fucker arrested. Instead, what was I doing? I was lying across my couch, contemplating the best angle to turn and make him watch me fuck myself.
If he wanted to be a psycho stalker, I’d give him something worth stalking.
I wasn’t even sure he was watching, but I also didn’t care. He’d missed two of our weekly dates now, and the frustration was building up quickly. Maybe he knew now that I knew, but that didn’t mean he could cancel our planned meetings because he was too chicken shit to face the reality of the situation.
On top of that, I was almost positive he had somehow blocked and deleted all the profiles of the guys I’d liked on the app. It wasn’t as if I had any intention of talking to any of those men, but his last message was still thrumming through my head—Nice try.
I was horny and aggravated. Plus, this could be fun.
I glanced up towards the camera again and finally settled on a spot. I’d thought about going to grab one of my favorite vibrators for this little show or one of the toys he’d picked out himself over the last month from the club, but I’d decided against it. It wouldn’t take long, and I knew it. No use getting out a toy only to have to clean it off later.
I pulled the black tee I had on off and tossed it to the side. I’d already ditched my jeans, which left me in just a black lacy bralette and matching panties. I threw one leg over the back of the couch and dropped the other, so my toes were on the floor, spreading my thighs wide for him. My fingers inched down my stomach and over my panties. Using my other hand, I pulled the material to the side and ran my middle finger through my folds.
“Fuck me,” I mumbled. I’d been fighting how turned on I was since the moment he came into the bakery this afternoon. I’d tried to ignore him, tried to pay him no mind whatsoever, and I’d failed miserably. He’d walked in with a tight white tee that spread across his chest flawlessly, and a blueflannel that matched his eyes perfectly. His forearms were shown off from the rolled-up sleeves, and his wavy hair was all disheveled as if he had been nervous to come inside and see me, and he’d run his hands through it a thousand times before making it to the counter.
Dipping two fingers into my cunt I let out a breathy moan. What I wouldn’t do to run my fingers through his dark hair. It didn’t take me long to start envisioning it.
His deep blue eyes peering up at me from between my thighs, my fingers digging into his hair as I used it to guide his mouth exactly where I wanted him. His tongue dipping into my cunt, running up and around my clit.
“Right there, Wyatt,” I moaned.
“Do you like that, little flame? Does my girl need more?” His fingers came up and replaced his tongue as his lips focused around my clit.
I was coming on my own fingers before the thought could even continue. I laid there on the couch, breathless. I didn’t look up at the camera as I pulled my fingers from my panties and slowly licked my cum off them. Satisfied with myself, I hopped up off the couch and went to the bathroom. I deserved a full pampering shower after that bit of fun.
The air wasbrisk as I stepped outside. I was excited for yoga this morning because Aspen and Ivy were coming along for the first time. I genuinely didn’t think they meant it when they asked for the details, but they seemed so excited, which just added to the excitement I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Yoga had become a bit of a weekly occurrence, a chore if I were honest with myself. All of my excitement was being poured into the anonymous meet-ups.
After my little exhibition show for Wyatt last night, I slept like a baby for the first time in days. I couldn’t believe I’d actually followed through on that plan and let him watch me on a mini spy camera he’d broken in to install at some point. He’d been by a few days ago to install cameras outside and inside the bakery for me, but he definitely hadn’t been upstairs then. Which meant he’d been here prior at some point and put them in.
Evidently, he was more like his brother than I thought. Shaking my head, I locked the bakery door behind me and started towards my jeep.
“Are you Ember Dunagan?” a deep voice came from behind me, and I spun around to find a tall, burly man staring at me. He was balding with bushy dark brows and a goatee. I took a step backwards, only to find my back pressed against my jeep door.
“Who’s asking?” I wished my voice sounded stronger than it did, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now.
The man took a step closer to me, and I bit back the need to tell him to back the fuck up. “Are you Bennett’s kid? Or not? Don’t make me go pull the file from the truck, it’s cold and I want to get this over with.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I should’ve known this man would be involved with my piece of shit father. I don’t know why I expected anything different, to be honest. The man took another step closer, leaving him maybe five feet from me now—which was much too close for my personal preference. “Okay, okay, yes. I’m his kid. On paper, at least. What do you want?”
He smiled, and I wished he hadn’t because it was a sight that would be ingrained in my mind forever. “You tell your Pops that we’ve been looking for him, and he may want to find us before we findyouagain. Make sense?”
I swallowed roughly. “Sadly, no. It doesn’t. Who are you?” I regretted the sass the moment it came from my mouth, but the guy let out a hearty laugh.
“Oh, I see where you get the mouth from. My name doesn’t matter. He’ll know who we are. Hopefully you’ll never need to. You’ve got two weeks.” His gaze turned for a brief moment as he looked behind us at the bakery. “It would be a shame for something to happen to such a beautiful old building,” he said with one more sharp chuckle, and then he turned away. I watched as he walked down the block and rounded the corner out of view. It took me a solid sixty seconds before I could unclench my trembling fists and unlock my Jeep, quickly climbing into the vehicle and locking the doors behind me.
I stared out the front windshield, trying to come up with some sort of game plan or what I’d even say to my father in this situation. I counted backwards from ten—a poor effort to calm my otherwise shaky breathing.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Mom. It rang and rang and rang until her voicemail finally clicked on.
I cleared my throat and let out a breath until it beeped, and I could begin speaking. “Um, hey Mom. I was just wondering if you’d talked to Ben—Dad recently? There was a guy outside the bakery today, and he…” I trailed off, trying to think of what to say right now, before I shook my head. “Just call me back, please.”
