Something is wrong. The first couple days of my business trip, Lia is her usual, incredible self when I call her at night or between meetings. Her voice is soft and inviting in my ear, she tells me she misses me, asks if I’m taking stress breaks. Late at night, she sends me mirror selfies from our
John claps me on the shoulder. “Hey, buddy. Ready to go?” I turn to find Lia’s father there, looking oddly nervous, his cart idling behind him. Given no choice, I nod. “Yeah,” I grunt, taking a seat in the passenger side. “Let’s go.” At the very least, this round of golf will give me a chance to e
My hand balls into a shaking fist as I look around and realize every man in the place is staring at her. Ogling that hot little tush and adjusting themselves. “Damn, is that really Amarie’s kid?” one of them says to his friend, smacking his lips. “She grew up nice.” “Jesus, you’re not kidding. Too
“Why didn’t you tell me your father was broke?” Gasping, she shoots to her feet. She sways and I catch her up against me, so she won’t fall, swallowing a groan over the perfect contact, the smoothness of her skin, the way her little tits smash to my big chest. “H-how did you find out?” “He told
“If you weren’t on the pill…” I rear back and slap her ass. Twice. “I’d get you pregnant for wearing that goddamn bathing suit.” There’s a new, excited light in her eyes when they lock on mine, her breath racing fast, so fast. “I stopped taking m-my pill this weekend,” she whispers, searching my fa
I’m never leaving my bedroom again. Maybe I’m not ready for adulthood or college or big decisions. Maybe I’m just a stupid, eighteen-year-old kid. What was I thinking, trying to scheme Tristan into a relationship? He doesn’t want a child for a girlfriend. Sex is one thing, but going public when his
“I don’t know.” My voice is unbalanced. “It started out as a crush on your dad, but then it just…snowballed. And then I couldn’t breathe unless I saw him at least once a day—” “Gross. Look, is he the reason you’re friends with me?” My chest seizes with disbelief. “What?” I reach out and grab his a
I expect him to be standing on the other side of the orange door. But I never could have expected to walk into the hillside of swaying cherry blossom trees to find Tristan in a tuxedo, a pastor holding a bible to his left. Tristan’s head lifts at my entrance, his expression transforming with love,