Cherry flavor. The lollipop Jace gave me is cherry-flavored. If anyone in class had turned around, they would have seen Jace tracing his fingers along my neck. We would’ve been caught, and that would’ve been it—game over. Stupid. So stupid. This game we’re playing is far too dangerous. My hair is still over my shoulder, and I leave it there, trying to concentrate on the numbers in front of me. But Hannah keeps snorting beside me. "Stop," I whisper, nudging her elbow. She shoots me a knowing look. "Me, stop? Our teacher just gave you a lollipop, and here you are, sucking on it right in front of him. And he's staring at you, not even trying to hide it," she whispers back, eyes glinting. "Want a taste?" I say, ignoring the rest of her comments. He’s still staring at me. Hannah grins devilishly and nods. I slowly pull the lollipop from my mouth and slide it into hers. I hold the stick while she swirls her tongue around it. “He even knows your favorite flavor,” she murmurs with t
The time drags on endlessly. I keep checking my phone, waiting for something—any message, warning, order, or demand—but nothing comes. I even change into leggings and a loose shirt, just in case he storms through the door. The silence is more unnerving than any message he could have sent. To distract myself, I crank up the music and sit on the floor downstairs with my laptop on the coffee table. My phone vibrates, and I glance at it, hoping it’s Jace. Instead, it’s a text from my father. My shoulders sag in disappointment. -Dad: We still up for dinner on Friday? Right. Dinner with Dad. I totally forgot. I’ll need to make an excuse to Mason. -Nora: Yes! I have school till 3, so I'll meet you after? -Dad: Sounds good, sweetheart. Can't wait to see you. I miss my father. I miss his face and the way he used to pinch my cheeks. Dinner with him would be nice. But he lives two hours away, so I’ll have to figure out how to fix the car. Or maybe... I could take the Aston Martin? Yeah,
He looks a little shocked and taken aback, but I feel a surge of confidence. If he wants to see my bra, he’s going to have to beg for it. Would he actually beg for this? He never says please, and I get the feeling he’s never begged anyone before. I hold his gaze, letting him process the challenge. Though he gives nothing away, when his eyes drop to my shirt, a smirk starts forming on his face. "You want me to beg you to get undressed?" he clarifies, raising an eyebrow. "Yes. And beg properly. Otherwise, you’ll never find out what my favorite color is," I say with an arrogant nod. He studies me, amusement glimmering in his eyes. "You really are something else, my sweet Norali," he whispers. I can feel his resolve in his gaze. Time seems to slow as his head moves closer, and I feel his lips graze my ear. He wraps his arm around me, his hand resting flat on my lower back, while the other, which was on my chin, slides to the back of my neck, holding me securely. "Consider this a one-
He’s right in my face, but I refuse to step back. “I’m going, Mason. I’m an adult and can make my own choices,” I say firmly, snatching his hand and forcing it down. That sets him off. Mason’s anger morphs into raw rage. I see him shaking, his fury palpable. “I said NO, LI!” he roars, stepping closer and hitting the fridge behind me with a force that makes me flinch. “Mason,” Jace snaps, appearing in the kitchen and glaring at Mason. Mason whirls around to face him before turning his gaze back to me. “If you’re that adamant about going, don’t go alone. Go with Jace,” Mason insists, his tone a bit calmer but still intense. “What? No! I don’t need a babysitter,” I snap back. Sometimes, Mason treats me like I’m five years old. “You will only go with Jace,” Mason says firmly, his mind made up. “I’m going alone,” I retort, just as resolute. Mason’s rage flares up again. His hand again slams against the fridge, and I'm half a second away of fearing him a little bit. Jace steps in, g
I haven't slept well. Mason cooked an amazing soup after seeing the work on my laptop, and he even got dessert from our favorite place. But all I thought about was Jace. It’s suffocating. He’s everywhere. And now he’s even going to meet my father tomorrow. As I sip my coffee on the grass outside, he drives into the parking lot in his black Porsche. The windows are too tinted for me to see him, but I still want to see him. I want to see his face when I confront him about Antonio. And Carter. And Dylan. What if he ends up beating up my father? Mason would be thrilled. "I think Ryker had sex with someone else," Hannah snaps me out of my daydream. "What?!" Lina jumps up from her spot against the tree, her eyes wide. Charlotte follows suit, looking at Hannah in shock. "He asked me to be his girlfriend three days ago..." Hannah says, her eyes on the grass beneath her. "I said I needed some time. You know, we have fun and all... But getting into a relationship is a big step." Hannah sig
I turn around and meet Jace's stare, which is full of interest. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, I quickly look away and walk past him without saying anything. He turns around with us and starts walking next to me and Hannah. My book is clutched to my chest, providing me with a false sense of safety. Jace has slept around a lot, and I'm a virgin. How in the world would we ever match? He would probably see me as dumb, inadequate, slow—just not good enough. Where are these insecurities coming from? What's going on with me? "Miss Raven. A word," Jace says in his teacher's voice, making me close my eyes in defeat. The last thing I want right now is to talk to him. I would probably stumble over my words and feet and embarrass myself further. “I have class,” I respond, continuing to walk, making Hannah glance at me from the side. Lina and Charlotte keep heading to our class. Suddenly, Jace grabs my arm. I almost flinch. “Class can wait. Hannah, can you tell whatever teacher you have that Nora
The first thing I notice when I get home is a pile of boxes in the hallway. “Hey, baby sis. These all came for you,” Mason calls from the living room, opening the door to the hallway. “For me?” I ask, frowning. Mason frowns back at me. “Yes. You didn’t order anything?” He reaches for one of the boxes. "No! Don't!" I swat his hand away quickly and pull the box away from underneath his hands before he can think of opening it. "I want to know what's inside," Mason protests, bending down again. "They're mine! I suddenly remembered I ordered underwear when I was drunk!" I manage to lie. Mason jumps back. “Ew, Li!” he shouts, backing away quickly. “Oh, shut it. You see my underwear in the washing machine,” I retort, grabbing the first box and stacking it on top of another. “Not by choice.” He scans the boxes again before retreating into the living room. I quickly dash back and forth, carrying two boxes at a time. I have a feeling I know who sent these. They’re addressed to me but lack
My night was terrible. All I could think about Jace beating up my dad or the other way around. This situation has only a few outcomes, and each one is worse than the last. My head itches, and the high ponytail feels like a beacon as I wait for Jace to arrive for class. He’s late. And he’s never late. Before I can worry about whether he might have ditched me, I feel his eyes on me. I turn my head and find him watching me intently. His gaze first lands on my hair, and I think I see a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. But maybe I’m imagining it. His eyes drop to mine, darkening as they meet my gaze. Grace is next to him, talking animatedly about something, but he seems to be completely focused on me. The awareness of being alone with him today makes me reconsider. Maybe I should cancel my meeting with Dad and not mention it to Jace. Maybe I should just... Fuck him after class. "And the instructor asked for my number! Can you believe that?!" Grace says as they app
He laughs here, his eyes so friendly. Just a normal guy. A kind person—someone who seems nothing but sweet. Looks can be so deceiving. I stare at the missing poster of Mitch for too long. I know I do. I can feel two pairs of eyes burning into me. I don’t know what to say. They practically dragged me into a small office at the back of the building. No windows, only one door. There’s no way out of here for me. No one knows where I am. “You were his girlfriend.” I look at his mother. Her voice is soft and timid, yet there’s an accusing edge to it. “It wasn’t that serious yet,” I say, keeping my voice level and calm. “He said you were official. For quite a while,” she responds, her tone pointed. “We were only dating for a few days, I—” “A few days? Don’t lie. You were with our son for almost a year until he disappeared,” his father cuts in, his voice sharp. I turn my gaze to him. A stocky man with a square face and thick brows. He looks nothing like Mitch. Neither of them has t
I wake up to the warm pressure of a head between my legs. A slow, deliberate tongue glides over my clit, teasing, stroking, sending lazy waves of pleasure through my still-drowsy body. Jace’s hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he lounges against the bed like he has all the time in the world. “Jace,” I murmur, my voice husky with sleep, my mind still catching up to what I’m feeling. “Good morning, baby,” he replies, his words muffled against my skin. “You couldn’t stop yourself?” I ask, my breath hitching as his fingers slide up the inside of my thigh. “Just making sure we start our last day of the school year in the best way possible,” he says smoothly, slipping a finger inside me. A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My back arches as a rush of heat blooms deep in my core. And then, his lips wrap around my clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, pushing me straight into oblivion. It takes him less than two minutes to make me fall apart. Exactly twenty seconds in
Mason screams something back, his voice shocked and angry, and I grin under my blanket. My door creaks open, and the bed dips under a heavy weight sinking into the mattress beside me. “Jace?” I mumble into the darkness. “No,” he replies instantly, his voice playful. “I’m a dream.” “What are you doing here?” I ask, my body too relaxed to move. His hands glide over me with a gentleness that sends a shiver down my spine. I’m too comfortable to push him away. “Just fulfilling my teacherly duties,” Jace murmurs, pulling me closer. “Gotta make sure my favorite student is alright.” I suppress a smirk and let out an exaggerated huff. “You’re unbelievable.” “Believe me, baby,” he sighs, his hand tracing my back in slow, deliberate strokes. His lips brush against the curve of my neck, and my body sinks deeper into the mattress. As his hand presses into my skin with firm precision, my thoughts scatter under the expert touch. “You can’t ask a man to stay away from his woman, Norali,” he
A flash of Mitch’s face fills my mind—the machete swinging toward my head, the deafening crack of a gunshot ringing out. “No,” I mumble, the word barely audible. Jace sighs heavily and runs a hand through his damp hair, his frustration palpable. “Next time, it could be a burglar. Who knows what could happen?” TThere’s fear in his voice, and I know it’s even more potent now after he visited his parents’ grave. They were shot in their own home, after all. The weight of that memory lingers between us. I set my half-empty plate on the coffee table and take Jace’s empty one from his hands, placing it beside mine. Wrapping the blanket around us, I cuddle against him. He pulls me close instinctively, releasing a soft sigh as he feels the warmth of my body. “You can go home tomorrow,” Jace concedes at last, his voice low. “But only if Mason is there. Just for safety.” I nod against his chest, accepting the compromise for now. “As for my internship—” “I can’t let you go somewhere else,
Jace hums softly and kisses my temple as he grabs a pair of sweatpants from the closet. The house is bathed in darkness, the only light filtering in from the garden outside. I tiptoe into the kitchen, wincing as the fridge casts a blinding glare when I open it. I quickly shut it after grabbing the eggs and bacon, but an unmistakable presence prickles the air around me. “Maybe it’s time we move those boxes here,” Jace says casually. I freeze, unsure I’ve heard him correctly. Turning to face him, I see him watching me, his expression unreadable but intent, like he’s waiting for my reaction. “What do you mean?” I ask sharply. “Well…” He starts carefully, his voice steady, “you practically live here already. Might as well move in fully.” The eggs and bacon tremble in my hands as I place them softly on the marble counter. The dim kitchen feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. I tilt my head at Jace, narrowing my eyes. I didn't hear that right. “Are you asking me to move in
“Jace,” I breathe against his lips, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “You’re being so careful with me.” His lips curl into a soft smirk as his hand trails down my body, sending a shiver racing along my skin. With deliberate slowness, he hooks a finger beneath my panties, sliding them down my legs as if savoring every second. He kisses my neck, the warmth of his breath igniting a fire deep within me, before carelessly tossing my lacy red underwear behind him. “I want to make love to you,” Jace murmurs, his voice a velvety promise against my skin. The words hit me like a thunderclap, leaving me momentarily breathless. My fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the dark strands, as I hook a leg around his body, pulling him closer. “You don’t make love,” I whisper, my tone a mixture of challenge and disbelief. My hand slides down his chest, over the taut muscles, and lower still. My breath hitches as I brush against the hard dick of him, my thumb stroking
Mind & Heart by Tristan Barton plays softly, the melancholy melody filling the car. I lift my hand, gently placing a finger under Jace’s chin, guiding his face toward me. His eyes, once brimming with confidence and arrogance, are now sunken and haunted. In this moment, he’s not the Jace Adkins I know—the bold, self-assured man—but a lost little boy, burdened by the pain of visiting the graves of parents who were stolen from him. Pain. Fear. Anger. Emotions he shouldn’t have to bear swirl in his gaze, and my chest tightens at the sight. “You’re not alone, Jace,” I whisper, my voice soft but steady. His eyes search mine, filled with a silent, desperate plea for reassurance. “You’re doing the right thing,” I promise, squeezing his hand gently. A breath escapes him, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. His fingers tighten around mine, and his eyes soften, a flicker of gratitude breaking through the storm of his emotions. “Yes,” he finally says, his voice low and strained. “It’ll be
"You're always welcome at my office. It’d be good to see you," Jace says, his voice kind. A few moments of silence pass. "My scotch is always waiting for another drinker. Next time, I'll treat you to the best you've ever tasted," he adds, his hand resting gently on my bare knee. "I’ll bring my girlfriend next week. You should bring your wife. We can go out for dinner," he suggests next. I almost slam on the brakes. He hangs up after a polite goodbye. "Jace!" I exclaim loudly. "You can't tell people we're dating! And besides, you're not taking me anywhere next week. We need to be careful." "Who says I was talking about you?" His voice is serious. I gasp, my hand instinctively reaching for his chest. He catches it midair with a laugh, kissing my knuckles and holding my hand on his knee. "Don’t worry. The guy’s as stupid as they come. We'll slap some red lipstick on you, do something different with your hair, give you a different name. Even if he sees you the next day, he won’t
The vibrations intensify when Jace groans against my skin, and I press my clit against his fingers, consumed by the urgent need building inside me. I need this. I need him. The ache is so intense it feels like it might break me. I’m in a frenzy, my nails digging into Jace's skin, as I feel an overwhelming wave coming. I hold onto it, summoning it faster, pushing his fingers deeper. I moan in his ear, whispering words I don’t fully understand, but they feel like a mantra, desperate and raw. I lose all sense of time and space when Jace slides a finger inside me, pressing his thumb down. It’s like I’m falling off a cliff, the fall so fast and intense I think it might swallow me whole. It’s a death I welcome. My entire body locks up, muscles tightening as my orgasm crashes over me. I cling to Jace for support, riding out the waves of pleasure, barely aware of anything else. Still in the haze of my high, Jace pulls back, his zipper sounding too loud in the quiet space. My senses are