HANNAH"WHEN YOU SAID I needed to live a little, this is not what I thought you had in mind."Damien wears a scowl as he dips his gloved hand into his bucket once more, before tossing the next round of chicken feed. His back slouches, preventing his head from hitting the short ceiling of the chicken coop.I mirror his movements but without gloves, the dry feed of grain and canola bundling in my palms. "A relaxing day at Lockwood Farms could lift anyone's spirits."During our first date, when he agreed I could plan the next one, I truly thought he needed a change of pace in his life. But it wasn't until I saw the horrors in his eyes the night of the thunderstorm that I realized he was desperate for it. Fake relationship or not, from then on, I was determined to take his mind off work.And when my mom called a few nights ago about needing someone to watch the farm for the weekend while they took my younger brother off to college, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to distract him."
HANNAH POPS THE HOOD, lifting the green metal high above her head. The tractor she works on is a mechanical beast, with wheels the height of her chest and stairs leading up to the driver's seat.I bury my hands in my pockets, balancing on the balls of my heels. I'll admit it. This place is impressive, a true man-cave that must be the dream of most middle-aged men. Metal signs hang high on the walls of the garage, spouting recognizable names like Ford, Coca-Cola and Shell. They appear to be retro, much like a truck in the corner, with its rounded edges and small wheels.Through the windshield, glossy seats stand out in the interior that was clearly refurbished by someone who knew what they were doing. Another car sits beside the truck, cloaked in mystery by a protective sheet draping over it, offering a vague outline of its exterior. The only other clue given is the shiny red paint left uncovered in one spot near a tire.Hannah... the mechanic? I quirk my brow, a smile creeping on my l
"I AM NOT DOING THAT."HANNAHDamien's face is so red it might shoot off his neck like a rocket, which would be amusing if I hadn't just dumped all my childhood trauma on him."It's not as bad as it seems." I snap the blue latex gloves against my wrists. "And besides, this is the last thing on our list, and you have Bessie, who's the easiest to milk."I drag my stool across the dry hay, positioning it beside the dairy cow's feet. Before I sit, I run my hands along the side of my cow, its brown fur tickling my fingers through my gloves."Hannah, I'm drawing a line." His hand waves around, scrunching the gloves he holds between his fingers. "I'll pick up chicken crap and eggs and get dirty with a tractor, but this... this is too far.""I've been going easy on you." My eyebrows lift to my hairline. "It's either this or the pigs.""Pigs?" He whirls, appearing awkward in his boots as he clomps around the stall. "Oh, no.""Oh, yes. Now—pig or cow? Choose wisely."He huffs a sigh, sliding on
THE GUESTHOUSE IS QUAINT, with a partial kitchen connecting to a modest living room. A couch and two recliners surround a grizzly bear rug and a fireplace that even I admit is nice.Why? Let's see... Wooden logs crackle from its cage, smoke funnels out of its long-tubed top, and its flames keep the place perfectly cozy. Oh, and Hannah's in front of it—On her knees.Naked.The evidence of her arousal slides down the inside of her thighs, glistening against the flicker of the flames."Touch yourself."I lean back on the couch, watching her listen to my command from across the room. When her petite hand dips between her folds, I grip my cock. I'm completely free of the clothes I decided not to wear after our shower.Her eyes dance back and forth between mine and my proud erection, lying flat across my lower abdomen, nearly reaching my belly button."Good girl." The praise is thick on my tongue as I stroke myself from base to tip.I bite my lip—hard—watching her flick her clit with her p
THIS IS HUMILIATING.HANNAHTwisted, delicious humiliation.I slide my leg another inch, the movement rubbing intense friction against my clit. I hold back a whimper, knowing it would only satisfy him further.He wants me to beg. For him to fuck me.It was—is—in our contract, and I even signed it. Because it seemed harmless, at the time. Surely, I wouldn't sleep with this man again, after knowing him to be my ex's brother. Better yet, I wouldn't think I'd sleep with him, knowing all our interactions and flirting in public are fake.But now the lines smear beyond recognition, unable to be redrawn. I don't even know what's fake or real anymore. Except the way he smiled, laughed and allowed me to open up to him today in the barn... That was real and nearly lifted my heart from my ribcage. I'd never seen him so free. A rare glimpse into such a complicated man.The living room seems so small. I bite my lip as I take another step and avoid his intense gaze, looking down at the ground. Until
HANNAH'S A FUCKING GODDESS.And it's my only intention to worship her.She eyes me softly, the glow of the fireplace shining an orange halo behind her head. Her hands whisper down my body, starting at my chest and working their way along the harsh ridges of my core. She doesn't say a single word, and I can hardly breathe as she studies me.I wonder what she's thinking, what she thinks of me. I wish I could scoop deep inside her consciousness, only to pull out its mysteries.Touching her palms to my chest, she pushes me back into the couch as she lowers herself over my cock. But she doesn't put me in. Her pussy lips wrap around the base, her wetness warm on my skin."Grind on me," I grit out between clenched teeth."Like this?" She leans forward, her slickness sliding along my shaft as her breasts sway a breath away from my face.Fuck..."Yes, like that."She sways backwards, slipping along her way. I rest my head on the back of the couch, unable to watch her any longer. But her soft h
I CLUTCH DAMIEN'S ARM, nerves pricking at me.It's been two weeks since our weekend getaway at my family's farm,and I've come to terms with the fact that what we did in that guesthouse was borderline unholy. And ever since, not only have we been doing it, we've been doing it often, with my wails growing louder in the penthouse each night.But even more surprising than that is the way Damien has changed. His flirting has increased tenfold, but so have his smiles. It's almost like being with a newly reformed man, who doesn't have work and stress and duties crawling up his back like spiders."There's nothing to be nervous about," he purrs beside me. He's the calming presence between the two of us as we walk across the marble flooring. "You look stunning.""I'm not nervous," I lie.The Bass family estate is beyond immaculate.The minute John dropped us off at the front porch, I spotted more Rolls-Royces and other supercars than I could count. Nausea sweeps over me then, remembering how
I TURN the faucet handle to the very right, letting the cold water splash against my hands. I'd hoped it would ease my rattling mind that's working like a beehive in overdrive. Too many resurfaced questions. Too many people watching us with whispers under their breaths.The ballroom bathroom looks about how I expected. Porcelain sinks curve around gold spouts, and tall marble stalls reflect at me through the mirrors with glittery heels poking underneath the doors.I release a breath, rummaging through my clutch, right as two girls come stumbling into the bathroom, their hands bracing the walls."Come on," the one wearing a purple slip-dress says, tugging the other. "There's good lighting in here."They giggle on by, nearly running into me, before they whip out their phones. Twisting the bottom of my lipstick tube to unveil a deep red shade, I can't help but sneak peeks at the photoshoot that follows.With a flashing phone pointed her way, the one in purple sits on the countertop, lean
HANNAH - 5 YEARS LATER"Are you... crying?"Sofia avoids my stare. Her head angles down towards the stage directlybelow us, to the ballerina twirling in circles on her toes in the hands of her partner. Wearing a white tutu, her brows droop downwards in an expression of pure drama and struggle."No." More sniffles."Oh my god... You are." After shooting me a stern look and retrieving a fresh handkerchief from her purse, she returns to craning over the side of the gold box railing. "And to think, only yesterday, you didn't want to come. Said it'd be too boring."She ignores me, her eyes widening when fog floats from the corners of the stage, the intense music growing ever louder.I don't blame her. I was skeptical about attending my first ballet show, too. But now I understand and appreciate its beauty, in a similar way when Damien plays the piano for me when we're alone. I can recognize the same thrill and excitement in his features as the dancers below.Tonight's performance of Swan
HANNAH"ISN'T it so much better when I plan our weekend getaways?"My lips thin, overlooking the ocean from the balcony of our villa."You've asked that every day we've been here, Damien."His chuckle is low in my ear as he wraps his arms around me, raisingmy temperature even higher than the private hot tub we're in. Our view is impeccable, along with the other villas that stand proudly in the water, tracing along the island's coastal line.Who knew houses come on stilts?We've been in Bora Bora for over a week, and I've enjoyed every second. At first, he told me we were going for a weekend vacation, just us two, and loaded up the jet with a bag I didn't pack. He then ignored all my questions about where we're headed.My guesses were Florida and Mexico. But no. I realized I was dead wrong after our flight took over eighteen hours. And then I made the even bigger realization that Damien... Damien was taking a real vacation. Not a weekend, but nearly two weeks off.I smirk.He's come s
THESE WALLS NEVER BUILT A HOME.They built a cage.My steps across my family's estate’s hallways are slow, my eyes wandering to key destinations of my childhood that would always spark awful memories.Because, when I normally pass by the archway that leads to the kitchen, I wouldn't see it as the beautiful architecture that it is. I would see my mother's last act of rebellion, struggling against my father's hold on her, before she received the final blow that turned her into the mindless aristocrat she is now. All the genuine joy expressed through her love of dance—gone.And when I'd near my father's study, I would hear Sterling's small cries as he banged against the door that always proved to be permanently closed. Often, it was me he'd hear inside, not getting much better treatment, until some maid would sweep him off his feet to carry him back to his room.But on this day, I don't see the house the same way. Right now, it seems fragile to me. Like glass.My steps quicken, with one
HANNAH SITS in a simmering silence that would intimidate anyone. Makeup artists blot fuzzy brushes to her face. A man behind her clamps a strand of her hair between an iron. And another tapes a wire underneath the strap of her blouse. Sitting on a black swivel chair, the bottoms of herflayed pantsuit reach the ends of her thin stilettos.She hasn't said a single word since entering backstage over an hour ago,and I know she must be planning something, not that she's going to share anything with me. She distinctly left that part out last night when she blew up my entire world to splinters, then informed me to go about our presentation as normal.Do you trust me? she had asked.And I didn't hesitate then, and I won't now, even before dozens of live- recording cameras and thousands in the audience.Mysterious schemes rage behind her eyes like dark tides of the sea, hinting at the rarely seen danger inside the woman before me, making me question who it really is I'm in love with... It's
I WISH I could go back to the girl I was a month ago, who was only trying to save her family from bankruptcy.Not from their murder.Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I rest my back against the side of my bed as light streams underneath my closed door. I twist the engagement ring around my finger, embracing the pointless warmth it gives me.Damien and I can't be. But I still put it on the instant I got back, allowing myself to pretend for a while longer that the world believes we're newly engaged and we're unveiling the most anticipated microchip of the twenty-first century.But that can never happen. Tomorrow, Damien will be alone on the stage, his father watching with satisfied eyes as he tells the audience it's Bass Mobile who wins the prize for an entire year. Their stocks will skyrocket, their phones soon reigning supreme, and its users will never know the danger they slip into their pockets.My phone rings on the floor next to me, shining a familiar face I’ve grown to love on
MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER doesn't want to be found.One quick search of Victor Strauss online gave me all the information Ineeded, including his company and personal phone number. I've called many times—late last night, early this morning and an hour ago—stating who I was and practically begging him to talk to me.Which felt wrong in and of itself, because why should I have to be the one to beg? Was his reaction at the charity event all an act? He certainly recognized me and tried to chase me down before Damien got to me first.The only answer I received was as a cryptic envelope slipped underneath our door ten minutes ago. Inside, black ink marked a white slip of paper.The Crimson Lotus9:00Lifting my head to the Vietnamese restaurant glowing neon red againstthe rainy night sky, I cross the street, studying those inside. But I'm unable to see anyone. The windows are quite dark, which wouldn't bother me so much if this wasn't such a sketchy part of the city.Upon my entrance, a bell ab
NOTHING SPARKS my imagination more than the touch of the wheel beneath my fingertips, even if I'm not tall enough to see through the windshield."Vrr... Vrrr!" I mimic the purr of the engine, feeling vibrations as I pinch my lower lip between my teeth and push air from my lungs.There's no light inside Daddy's shop, not when it's past midnight, aside from the glow from a small desk lamp on top of his workbench. But that makes the thrill more worth it, sneaking out late without making a sound, letting my mind run rampant.With one turn of the wheel, I'm roaring down an open road with no destination in sight. A sandy breeze whisks my hair past my shoulders, invading every crevice of the roofless red Mustang I drive beside an endless ocean."Brrr." My lips flop with a funny feeling.With the next turn of the wheel, I'm a champion speed demon on my sure way to win my seventh NASCAR trophy. My legs elongate to their appropriate size, the bottom of my foot pinning the gas pedal to the groun
HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou
HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou