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He licks his lips as he gets to his feet, and I want to say something that will take back what I just said. But he turns and leaves my room, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving me alone with my humiliation. With my shame. And wondering where in the hell that came from.
7
Sebastian
Isit on the deck off my bedroom with a glass of scotch in hand, staring out at the ocean. The moon sits high in the sky, its silver light glittering off the surface of the Pacific. Thoughts of what happened with Bree earlier fill my mind and no matter how hard I try to think about something else, my brain circles back to what we did. To what I did.
What I hate most about it is the look on Bree’s face. She looked ashamed. Like she felt she’d done something wrong when nothing could be further from the truth. No, if anybody did anything wrong, it was me. I gave in to my urges. My lust. My desire. And because I did, I unwittingly unlocked something that turned me on like nothing else ever has. Something I know I shouldn’t want but something I want with every fiber of my being anyway.
Relationships have never been important in my life. I’ve dated, sure. But I’ve never been able to get serious with anybody mostly because I have desires that I’ve never known how to express. So, I never really tried. But Bree seemed to just instinctively know which buttons to push or just what I liked. No, not what I liked. What I needed. I didn’t even realize it was a need until I heard her utter the words, “daddy” to me. When I hear that fall from her lips, the beast I’ve kept locked away, deep within me, burst free of its cage.
When she said that, when she surrendered herself to me as completely as she did, the desire that washed over me was overwhelming. I very nearly lost myself in the beast. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to bury my cock deep in her sweet little cunt. I wanted to feel her sex wrapped tight around my shaft, hear her breathy moans, and feel her body shaking wildly when she came with me in her. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life than I wanted to claim Bree. I wanted to possess her and make her mine. Completely and wholly mine… mind, body, and soul.
But when I looked into her eyes, the reality that she’s my goddaughter, that her father—my best friend in the world—asked me to take care of her when he was gone came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. If he knew I was harboring these kinds of thoughts about his daughter, he would have kicked my ass. Or at least, he would have tried to. The fact that I tasted her sweet nectar probably has him rolling in his fucking grave.
I take a swallow of my drink and lean my head back against the chair, staring up at the nighttime sky and try to clear my mind. Even now though, I can still taste her on my lips. Her scent fills my nose and the sound of her cries echo in my ears. I can still feel her hand wrapped around my cock, squeezing and stroking me and it gets me hard all over again. I want nothing more than to bend her over and bury my dick deep inside of her.
Being with her earlier felt good. More than that though, it felt right. That soft, smooth body felt like it was made just for me. I could lose myself in it for hours. Days even. I could act out my every filthy fantasy with her and I know instinctually that Bree would let me. And that she would be just as into it as me. There was a powerful spark between us when we were together earlier. We shared a profound connection. I felt it down to my very bones… and I know she did too.
I know I shouldn’t be letting myself feel these things for her. Hell, I shouldn’t have let things between us go as far as they had earlier. I should have put a stop to it before she kissed me. I knew it was coming and instead of pulling away, I embraced it. I encouraged it. And I did it because deep down, I wanted it to happen. Who am I kidding? I still want it to happen. If I’m being honest with myself, I want that girl more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
And that’s the rub.
I shouldn’t want her. I should reject everything inside of me urging me to take her. She’s my fucking goddaughter for Christ’s sake. Eddie wanted me to take care of her. Not turn her into my fucking plaything. But from the moment she turned up for Eddie’s funeral and I got my first look at the woman she’s become, all I’ve been able to think about is being inside of her. About having her in every way possible. All I’ve wanted is to claim Bree and make her mine.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I drain my glass and set it aside then scrub my face with my hands, trying to stop the wild carousel of thoughts spinning through my mind. The thing I hate the most is picturing that look on her face. Bree thinks she did something wrong and I can’t seem to find the words to tell her she didn't. I've tried to go down to her bedroom to talk and clear the air between us half a dozen times already. But every time, I turned back and retreated to my bedroom. Part of me thinks the best way to get past this is to not talk about it. To pretend it never happened.
I somehow don’t think that’s going to happen though. I don’t think we’re going to be able to pretend the sort of magnetic pull that keeps drawing us together is going to go away. Or that we’re going to be able to ignore it. It doesn’t feel like something we’re going to be able to just get past. Bree has a gravitational force that just pulls me to her, and I know for certain now that I’m not alone in feeling that way.
Everything else aside, I told Eddie that I’d take care of his little girl after he died and that’s what I’m going to do. And having given it some thought from a practical standpoint, I realize what I have to do to make that happen.
I just need to uphold another promise I made to Eddie.
8
Bree
“Well, where in the hell is he?” I demand.
The man standing before me gives me a small shrug. “I don’t know, ma’am. He declined to share that information with me.”
“He declined to share that information with you?” I screech. “What are you, a fucking robot or something?”
The man is unmoved by my outburst and shows all the emotion of the goddamn Sphinx. He’s not as tall as Bastian, but he’s close. And with his blonde crew cut, square jaw, and the permanent scowl on his face, he’s just as intimidating looking. Even in his dark suit, I can see the well-defined muscles of his sculpted body. He looks like somebody from the Secret Service or something. Even worse, there are three of these guys—almost clones of each other—in the house. It’s like Bastian programmed “intimidating as hell bodyguard with the personality of a grapefruit” into his computer and then pumped them out on a 3D printer or something.
“Are you really telling me you don’t know where Bastian is?” I press.
“As I said, he declined to—”
I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. He declined to share that information with you. Christ,” I mutter. “Fine. I’m going out for a while. Alone. I need some time to myself.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says. “We’ve been instructed to not let you out of our sight. We go where you go.”
A frustrated growl bursts from my throat and I stomp my foot on the hard wooden floor. A faintly amused smile flickers across the Sphinx’s lips as he watches me. I realize I look like a petulant child but right now, I don’t care. Since I’m being treated like a child I might as well act the part.
“Do you know when Bastian is going to be back?” I ask.
