I already know this isn’t going to take me long. I’ve been fantasizing about her for thirteen years, but I’ve never had anything like this to look at. I’ve imagined her naked body countless times, angrily jacking off to thoughts about wrapping her hair around my fist while she was thousands of miles away, hating my guts.
I hate her, too, but damn if she isn’t a walking, talking, infuriating fantasy come to life.
I picture her on her knees in front of me, wearing the pink lace, honey-blond hair spilling over her shoulders. She blinks up at me with her big eyes and says something snarky.
“Put it in your mouth,” I say.
Great. Now I’ve added dialogue.
But she does, and I close my eyes, imagining what it feels like. She’s so fucking hot, the sensual shape of her body on the screen unreal with how perfect the proportions are. She has places to hold on to, places to spank and squeeze and suck, but a toned stomach from all her yoga. I’ve never fucked someone I was so chronically obsessed with, and the short amount of time it takes me to bust all over my abs would be mortifying if she were here to witness it.
As soon as I stop panting for air, I look down over myself, a heavy weight of rage, mixed with guilt, flooding my veins. I slam my fist down on the wooden coffee table.
“Dammit!”
I’ve got to make myself delete those fucking pictures.
Tomorrow. I’ll delete them tomorrow.
thirteen years earlier
“You shouldn’t let her wear that. It’s inappropriate.”
I’m staring at Summer as her mom helps her pin the braids around the crown of her head. She rolls her eyes at me in the mirror. My father grunts, grabbing my arm and shoving me out the open sliding back door.
“We don’t tell women what they can and can’t wear. You’d better learn that right now, son.”
Still, I can’t take my eyes off of her in that dress. When Will asked her to prom, I decked him in the middle of the locker room an hour later.
“Dayton, look at me. Summer isn’t my daughter, first of all. Second, she’s your stepsister, so you shouldn’t be looking at her like that.”
I finally peel my eyes away from the sheer fabric showing off half of her side to meet his gaze. “If she’s not your daughter, then what makes her my sister?”
He sets his jaw. “You need to treat her better. I don’t know what your problem is. Clara and Summer have graciously tried to accept you into their lives. You owe them the same courtesy.”
My eyes trail back over to her. Her full ass is defined in the too-tight pale yellow dress. “She’s dating my friend. Am I supposed to just be okay with that?”
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If he’s treating her right, what’s the problem? You should want her to be happy.”
No one is good enough for her. Least of all Will.
“All the guys talk about her all the fucking time. I’m sick of hearing it.”
So sick of it that the coach said I’d be suspended if I hit another player. I barely talked him out of calling my dad about what happened with Will today.
My dad’s amber eyes narrow on me. “Well, it’s your job to defend her. Have I taught you nothing? I raised you to be a gentleman. We stand up for women.”
That’s why decking Will was the right move. All he wants is to smash.
“I do that. Doesn’t mean I have to like her.”
He sets his jaw. “I’m disappointed in you, Dayton. She lost her father the same way you lost your mother.”
“Honey? Can we get a family picture?” Clara appears from the doorway, a forced smile on her lips.
“Of course, dear.” Dad grabs my arm, guiding me into the house.
Will has arrived, wearing a tux and looking as smug as I’ve ever seen him. His mom must have attempted to cover his purple eye with makeup, but I can still see the outline. He grins at me, holding up Clara’s phone.
