Three Weeks Ago

“Didn’t know you were in here.”

I startle at the sound of his voice even though I heard the front door open followed by his footsteps.

Fumbling for the remote, I put the show I was barely paying attention to on pause and look at him.

The light from the television illuminates his tall and toned form as he rests against the entryway and I fight back a shiver.

If he didn’t enjoy politics so much, I’m positive he could have had a successful career as a model. He’s an intriguing combination of rugged and boyish good looks. Light brown hair cropped close in a style that’s suitable for business. Big brown eyes that are full of determination—like he’s always working toward the next big goal. And his chin, which is clenched in irritation more often than not, has the sexiest dimple smack dab in the center of it.

However, my absolute favorite feature of Cain’s are his lips. The man has the kind of lips women from all over the world go under the knife for. They’re full and sensuous, turning up at the corners ever so slightly to give him a perpetual smirk—like he knows how bad I want to kiss them.

“It’s Saturday night, shouldn’t you be hanging out with your friends?”

I inwardly flinch, not because of his cool tone or the slight slur coming from the booze he must have consumed tonight, but the fact that he knows damn well I don’t have many friends. Make that any.

I’m pretty much the town’s pariah, thanks to an incident that occurred when I was fourteen that led to my mother pulling me out of regular school and me continuing my studies at home.

Even now, the sting of embarrassment is so sharp my breath catches. I never meant for anyone to get ahold of the letters I wrote my seventh-grade teacher, Mr. Delany.

Ever since I was little, I’ve related to adults more than people my own age—something Mr. Delany seemed to understand—and we formed a friendship.

However, my private thoughts about him were never supposed to see the light of day. Those letters were for my eyes only.  

Unfortunately, once Tricia Rosenberg found them…they were for everyone else’s eyes too. Given my expressive language and graphic details of everything I wanted him to do to me…half the people in town thought he was some kind of child molester.

The other half thought I was a teenage Lolita…trying to ruin a good man with a good family because I came from a broken home and had daddy issues.

Needless to say, my life quickly became a living hell. I was bullied by my peers and verbally abused by the adults who were supposed to protect me.

My mother—already a prominent lawyer, played the offensive at first, claiming her young daughter was taken advantage of—no matter how many times I tried to tell her nothing ever happened between us and they were just stupid fantasies of mine.

However, things only got worse when I made the mistake of meeting Mr. Delany in the middle of the night to apologize for all the trouble I caused him. His wife showed up shortly after we did, and to say the shit hit the fan would be putting it mildly.

My life was one giant cluster fuck after that, but throughout it all, I maintained both mine and Mr. Delany’s innocence. In the end, I shouldn’t have gone through the trouble because Mr. Delany—just like every other man in my life—turned his back on me. He ended up telling everyone who would listen that I was a mentally ill stalker who was obsessed and blackmailing him because I was angry he turned down my advances.

Since there really was no disputing my fascination with him thanks to the letters, the town had a field day playing judge, jury, and executioner. Especially after it came out that Mr. Delany had ties to some important politician people admired.

My mother had no choice but to save face and her career by claiming her teenage daughter had severe psychological issues, and she decided to do the right thing and send me away so I could receive the proper treatment.

I’ve been stuck inside this house ever since. A prisoner of rumors, poor choices, a selfish mother, and the inner workings of my own peculiar mind.

It’s only recently that I’ve started to interact with people outside my home again—thanks in part to Cain and my therapist’s, David, help.

I’m still not able to venture outside most days—not even to the mailbox—because my anxiety and fear forbid me. But at least I’m finally able to hold conversations with those who come here.

The irony. Most girls my age can’t wait for the freedom to explore the universe on their own terms. Yet I want nothing more than to stay trapped inside these four walls forever...because I know first-hand what a cruel place the outside world can be.  

“Oh, that’s right,” Cain muses, bringing me out of my thoughts. “You’re not really much of a people person. Are you, princess?”

“Rough night?” I throw back at him because I hate when he intentionally provokes me. I’m pretty sure he’s not too fond of it either.

Yet, we’ve done this little song and dance so many times I’m starting to lose count. Maybe we secretly resent one another because deep down we both want what we can never have. Maybe these taunts and underhanded digs we hurl at each other are our sick way of keeping our real feelings at bay since we know we can never act on them.

Or maybe…I’m just wishful thinking and fantasizing like I did with Mr. Delany all those years ago and Cain can’t wait for my next birthday so he can get rid of me for good.

God knows his attitude lately makes it seem that way. Which means I need to be on my best behavior because I’m certain I’ll die if he kicks me out. Not only because I’ll be broken-hearted, but I don’t have what it takes to make it on my own. I can barely make it down the driveway without breaking out in a sweat and having a panic attack.

Slipping his tie off his neck, he releases a long sigh. “You might say that.”

I sit up straight as he walks toward the couch, watching his every move. “Want to talk about it?”

He makes a dark mocking sound. “I’m good.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I look around, unsure of what to do or say.

“Am I making you anxious?” The mocking tone in his voice is replaced by genuine concern. “Want me to leave?”

“Yes—no.”

He raises an eyebrow, amusement lighting his face. “That really clears things up.”

I laugh, my body relaxing a little with the action. “Yes, you’re making me anxious.” When he turns to leave, I quickly add, “But I don’t want you to go.” I point to the contents on the coffee table. “The popcorn’s burnt and the soda’s warm, but it’s still edible.”

He gives me a boyish grin as he takes a seat on the ottoman where I’m resting my feet. It’s strange he would pick the seat closest to me when he usually does the opposite. Another inch or so and we’d actually make contact.

I feel stupid when he sticks his hand in the popcorn bowl and I realize he took the seat closest to the refreshments…not me.

He makes a face. “This is awful.”

I shrug. “Hey, I warned you.”

Pushing the bowl away, he reaches for a can of soda and takes a large swig. “Fair enough. But why would you eat burnt popcorn in the first place? Why not throw it out and make yourself a new bowl?”

I pick at a loose string on my t-shirt. “Well, if I threw it out and started over, all my time and effort would have been for nothing. And if I made a new bowl of popcorn, I’d have to go through the whole monotonous process of waiting and listening for the kernels to pop at just the right time…something I already screwed up once tonight.” I chew on my thumbnail. “Two things I hate are wasting my time and having to do something over again because I didn’t do it right to begin with.”

He runs his hand over his chin, looking bemused but not saying a word.

“What?” I prompt after another moment passes.

“Nothing.” When I give him a look, he says, “We’re a lot alike is all.” Another long sigh. “I don’t like the thought of wasting my time or starting over again, either.”

“I guess that’s why you’ve been so on edge about the election.” I clamp a hand over my mouth when I realize I said that aloud. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His hand accidentally grazes my foot when he rests it on his knee and my breath steals. “One of my favorite qualities about you is how blunt and honest you are.”

My lips twitch. “Wow, would you look at that—a politician who admires honesty.”

The rumble in his chest makes my heart take flight only to dive right into the pit of my stomach a second later when he grabs my foot playfully and gives it a squeeze. “Smart ass.”

I swallow the ball of nerves lodged in my throat when he places my foot in his lap and looks at me. “David says you’re making progress.”

I nod. I hate when he brings up my therapy. It only reminds me how messed up I am and how there’s virtually no chance of us ever being together.

It also reminds me that our time is coming to an end. I’m not an idiot. I know Cain only insisted I start intensive therapy to deal with my agoraphobia and other issues after my mother’s death because he wants me out of his life when I turn eighteen.

Can’t say I blame him. Who in their right mind would want to keep taking care of a headache they didn’t create? Cain’s already done more for me than my biological mother ever did.

And while I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go outside without feeling anxious about people gossiping and saying horrible things behind my back…I finally have hope that one day I’ll be normal.

Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m absolutely petrified Cain is going to set me loose soon. No matter how much he deserves to live his own life.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He gives me the same look I gave him earlier and I cave. “I’ll be eighteen in three weeks.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “I know.” His pinched expression tells me he’s been thinking about it as much as I have.

My stomach knots. I can practically hear the clock ticking. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

I go to get up, but he places my other foot on his lap and rests his forearm on top of my ankles, locking me in place. “What’s going on with you?” I open my mouth, but he growls, “Don’t tell me nothing.”

Tears prickle my eyes. I have no idea how to say this without sounding like a desperate nutcase, but I’m so scared I’ll take the risk.

“I’m not ready to leave yet. I need more time.” I meet his eyes. “I know it’s a lot to ask. I know it’s not fair to you. I know I’m leftovers—”

“Leftovers?” He looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “Eden, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you kicking me out when I turn eighteen?”

“No.”

I look at him skeptically. “You sure?”

He chuckles. “I’m pretty damn positive.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh.” Half of me feels like a fool…and the other half is grateful nothing’s changing. “Thanks.”  

“Not exactly sure why you’re thanking me, but you’re welcome.” He gives his head a shake. “I should probably let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He starts to get up, but a red mark on his collar catches my eye and my stomach rolls with a violent lurch. “Where were you tonight?”

I’m not stupid, I know Cain’s had sex with other women after my mom died. Heck, I’m almost positive he was having sex with other women before she died given the two had absolutely zero chemistry.

I’ve just never been confronted with the evidence like this before.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

He’s right, it isn’t…but my heart didn’t get the memo. It was bad enough I had to witness him with my mother—I don’t think I can handle the thought of him being involved with someone else.  

If I had it my way, I’d be the dirty little secret he takes to his bed every night instead of his doting little stepdaughter.

If I had it my way, I’d be the one fulfilling every single want and need of his so he’d never have to look elsewhere.

If I had it my way, Cain would feel for me a fraction of what I feel for him.

But Cain’s never seen me that way and I don’t think he ever will.

His morals and ethics won’t let him.

Not unless I do something to shake them up a little.

Leaning back against the pillow, I dangle my feet on his lap again, intentionally stretching out my slim, t-shirt clad frame. “Come on, Cain. I thought we were friends.”

If he notices the provocative tone my voice has taken, he doesn’t comment on it.

As usual, he remains silent. Jaw clenched. Eyes hard.

But he’s not leaving…which means there must be a small part of him that likes being around me.

“Have you been seeing her long?”

He glares at me. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?” I ask coyly. “I mean, I’m pretty much legal now. Surely we can have an adult conversation…right?”

His eyes follow the fingernail I’m sliding up my torso. “I’m not talking about my sex life with my daughter.”

“We both know I’m not your daughter, Cain.”

My nipples pebble when his gaze locks on my bare legs. “No, you’re not.” Torment etches his features. “Still doesn’t make it right.”

My heart is practically beating out of my chest. This is the first time he’s ever looked at me this way, but if I play my cards right…it won’t be the last time.

Slowly, I slink my foot up his thigh. “Doesn’t make what right? We’re friends. Friends talk about sex.”

He snorts. “I’m not talking about sex with someone who hasn’t even had her first kiss yet.”

I don’t know whether to be flattered he thinks I’m so virtuous or offended. “I’ve been kissed before.”

“When?” His eyes narrow. “You told me nothing happened with that pervert—”

“Not him.”

“Then who?”

The whisper of jealousy in his tone makes my insides swoop.

I bite my lip and wiggle my toes a little, making sure they brush a certain appendage that’s growing thicker by the second. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“No.” The pad of his thumb traces the arch of my foot and I shiver. “You go first.”

“Fine. My first kiss was with a girl I used to hang out with.”

He eyes me skeptically. “What was her name?”

“Viola Cesario.” I fold one arm under my head—an intentional move that causes my t-shirt to rise, exposing my white cotton panties. “I used to go to her house after school, and one day while we were doing our math homework—she asked if she could kiss me to see what it was like.” I draw in a leisurely breath and his eyes drop to my breasts. “I was a little nervous, but she was so gentle with me.” I lick my lower lip. “To this day, I still remember how her mouth tasted like bubble gum.” I give him a wry smile. “We kissed for so long I thought our lips would fall off. If it wasn’t for her older brother walking in on us, they might have.”

His throat bobs on a swallow. “What did he say when he caught you?”

My smile grows. “He asked us to do it again.” This time, I’m not subtle when I brush his now bulging erection with my foot. “But he had one special request.”

Cain makes a low noise in his throat. “What was that?”  

I walk my fingers down the length of my body, stopping when I reach the band of my underwear. “He asked her to kiss me here.”

His cock pulses beneath me. “What did you say?”

I make a lazy circle over the fabric, inching closer to my clit. “What do you think?”

He zeroes in on the damp spot forming beneath my fingers. “I think you’re a girl who’s easily corrupted by all the bad things in life.”  

I slip two digits inside my panties, catching the wetness on them. “It’s kind of sweet you think I’m so innocent.”

His expression turns pained with lust and I know I’ve got him right where I want him. “That’s because you are.”

Removing my hand, I hold up my glistening fingers. “Well, if I’m an angel, what would that make you?”

“Right now?” He leans in, his mouth a mere centimeter from the fluid I’m teasing him with. “The Devil.” He sucks my fingers into his mouth and groans. “Because one taste of you won’t be enough.”

Butterflies fill my belly, but a vicious wave of arousal chases them all away when he starts stroking me through my underwear. “Tell me what happened next.”

I have to pinch myself to make sure this is actually happening and it’s not another fantasy of mine. “She said she didn't know what to do...so her brother...he...”

“He what?”

His knuckle grazes my clit and I suck in a breath. “He offered to show her.”

“Fuck.” He squeezes his erection through his pants. “Did they taste your pretty pussy at the same time?”

“Yes.” I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. “It felt so good.”

“I bet it did.” A shiver runs through me when he moves my panties to the side and slides his finger past my swollen lips, easing his way in. “God, you’re so tight.” A wet sound fills the room as he drives through my slickness and I buck against his hand. “So fucking tight.”

With a grunt, he drops to his knees. “Spread your legs.”

The moment I do, he buries his face between my thighs and starts lapping at me like an addict who’s consuming his next hit.

“Did they kiss you like this?” he grunts between long licks that have my legs shaking.

I start to speak, but the sound of his zipper cuts me off. Heat rises to my cheeks when I look down at his cock. It’s thick and veiny, the shiny pink head teasing his navel. It’s crazy finally seeing what I’ve been fantasizing about for years.

Another finger enters me, stretching me so much it almost hurts. “You didn't answer the question.”

“Yes,” I moan, and he kisses a languid path up my slit, rewarding me. My nails dig into his shoulders when his kisses turn frantic, his tongue hitting all the right spots. “Please don't stop.”

He sucks my clit into his mouth and I rock against his jaw, seeking more.  

“That’s it,” he rasps as he begins fucking me with his fingers. “Be a good girl and come on my face.”

His lips fasten onto my clit and the pressure between my legs detonates, sending me off. “Oh, God.”

Cain holds my gaze as I whimper and writhe, moaning his name like it’s the last word I’ll ever say as he consumes my orgasm.

I lay there breathless, so far gone I'm not sure I'll ever come back. I knew it would be good with Cain, but the real thing far exceeded my expectations.

With a smirk, he removes his fingers from my pussy, smears my cum on his dick, and pumps it nice and slow.

Then he stands, positioning his hard-on directly in front of me, giving me a privileged front-row seat to the show. I’m so transfixed all I can do is stare, watching in fascination as a pearly drop forms on his tip.

Curious, my tongue comes out for a quick taste and he groans, working his hand up and down his shaft rapidly. “Open.”

When I do, he winds my hair in his fist and thrusts, shoving his dick so far down my throat I gag. “Swallow.”

That’s the only warning I get before his body tenses and his release fills my mouth. There’s so much it starts dripping down my chin, but I do my best to get down every drop.

I’m so focused on the task I don’t catch the shift in Cain’s demeanor.

Not until he pushes me off him, looking about as guilty as a priest who committed murder. “Fuck.”

“What—”

A string of curses leaves him as he tucks his dick inside his pants. “This was a mistake.”

Wiping my mouth, I push to my feet. “What’s wrong?”

He gestures between us. “This can’t happen again.”

“Why—”

“You know why, Eden.”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling so vulnerable I could cry. “I’m—”

“Don’t be sorry.” His jaw bunches and he backs away. “And don’t be a fucking liar.”

I shake my head. “I don’t—”

“Viola Cesario,” he spits.

Shame barrels into me so rapidly my knees buckle. I should have known Cain was a Shakespeare fan, considering I know almost everything else about him.

He runs a hand down his face. “I’m a good guy, Eden.” His expression turns stern, like a parent explaining something to a small child. “But I’m still a guy. Don’t tempt me like that again, because I’ll only end up breaking your heart, and you need someone to make sure you’re…” His voice trails off and he shrugs helplessly. “Don’t hurt the only person who ever gave a fuck about you, okay?”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I would never. I love—”

“No, you don't.” His eyes flicker with rage and he points a finger at my face. “Stop telling yourself shit like that before you fuck up both our lives.” He kicks the coffee table, sending the popcorn and soda flying across the room. “I’m so close to winning this election and one step closer to where I want to be.” He punches the wall with his fist, looking so out of sorts tears prickle my eyes. “I’m so fucking close to getting everything I ever wanted…and I won’t let you or anyone else ruin it.”

With that, he stalks off…leaving me there with a broken heart and the lingering taste of him in my mouth.

 

I was so close to getting everything I ever wanted too.