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It’s like my animal brain is roaring from the back of my head, and I have to use the thinking part, the reasoning section, to quiet it down.
“Does that mean you’re here to stay?” I ask, hoping he can’t hear the eagerness in my voice.
Nothing can ever happen, but I feel happier with him so close, as though there’s hope for a future that can obviously only be a dream.
“For a while,” Bryson says.
“I’m sure Adam will be glad to hear that.”
“I hope so.”
It’s like hehatesme, the way he’s staring at me as if he wishes I could melt into nothing and leave him alone. I tell myself I’m imagining it, but his lips are curled, his eyes glinting with primal rage.
In a twisted wish, I imagine it’s lust instead.
I imagine he’s thinking all the deranged and beautiful thoughts I am.
CHAPTERTWO
Bryson
Harper is five and a half feet tall, quite short compared to me, her wavy brown hair freed to her shoulders. She’s not wearing any makeup, giving her a youthful and vivacious look.
The deep flush in her cheeks makes me think shameful thoughts, like wondering if the rest of her turns red so easily.
Her curvy hips, her big round juicy ass, her breasts trapped in the black shirt, begging for me to tear the buttons away and free them, to suck her nipples until her toes curl and she’s shivering and begging for me to touch her sex.
I keep my face as composed as I can.
I knew it would be difficult to see her again. But I was prepared for it.
Apart from the lust raging deep within, I want to pull her gently into my arms and whisper that I’m here forhertoo, not just Adam. I want to whisper that when she’s ready, I’m going to gift her with my seed, a family, and a future, and she’s going to make the best mother, the best wife…
I want to assure her I will be here for her… always.
My heart hammers, but I don’t let any of this out and remain civilized.
She bites her lip as the pause lengthens, causing my balls to swell, and my seed to surge into my base as if getting me ready. My body knows the right path to take here. It’s howling at me in a primal urgency to claim my curvy young woman before anybody else has the chance.
“Are you going to set up your practice again?” she asks, a shiver in her voice.
It’s like she feels obligated to make small talk.
She’d think I was the creepiest freak ever if she knew how badly I wanted her, every single part—her emotions, her body, her lust, her kindness, and…
Her everything.
It’s mine.
All of her.
“Nothing is permanent,” I tell her gruffly, aware I’m probably being rude but knowing it’s better than the alternative. “How’s the podcast going?”
I’ve purposefully avoided listening to any episodes, throwing myself into workouts and my job, taking on as much extra work as I can get, hoping to obliterate my thoughts from dawn to dusk, so they don’t stray to Harper.
“Pretty good,” she murmurs. “We’re up to one thousand consecutive listeners. Of course, I’m waiting tables, too.”
There’s another pause, people walking around us, and it’s easy to imagine it’s just her and me…
