The day after the kiss, I didn’t see Carter at all. He was probably in the office with mom, which meant that I was free to lounge around the pool all day long. Cox assured me early that morning that he had his own drones patrolling the grounds, and they would keep the bad ones away.

I couldn’t think about drones or Carter or anything else. I had to keep my mind off of him, especially after I already stupidly let myself kiss him.

What a hard life I had. My biggest responsibility was trying to avoid the gorgeous, rich, handsome man that wanted me badly. Otherwise, I could sit around his amazing mansion all I wanted, doing whatever I wanted. It was such a horrible, rough situation to be in.

I sighed. I hated self-pity. I wasn’t the type to feel bad for myself, and I really didn’t have it that bad. Sure, wanting to fuck my stepdad was pretty bad, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. A lot of people had it much, much worse, of course.

Still, my situation was pretty unique. If I gave into what I wanted, I could easily hurt my mother. It was just such a strange situation to be in and I really had no clue how to handle it. And now I had to worry about freaking drones!

The day passed by slowly and I did my best to keep my mind off of Carter. Eventually, the sun started to dip in the sky, and I forced myself to go inside.

I went up the stairs to my apartment, opened the door, and stopped in my tracks.

Sitting on the large kitchen table was an enormous bouquet of black roses.

I stood there, staring at them for a second. Who the hell sent someone black roses? I smiled to myself, and knew the answer to that. I walked over to them and carefully picked out the card.

E, red roses would seem inappropriate, but what about black ones? Maybe you can send me a Snap of you wearing only these as well. – C

I smiled, shaking my head. That asshole had some nerve. I put the card back and stepped away.

What the heck was I going to do with a bunch of black roses?

I got into the shower and quickly rinsed off the day. When I got out, I put on some fresh clothes and made myself a quick salad for dinner.

As I sat at the table, idly looking at the black roses, I suddenly wondered what Carter was doing. Without thinking too much about it, I took out the phone and pulled up the Marauder’s Map of the house. Sure enough, there was Carter’s little dot, sitting in a room I thought I recognized but couldn’t be sure. The map wasn’t labeled, so it took me a few minutes before I figured out that he was in his music room.

I got up and headed out into the hall, walking toward him. It was definitely a bad idea, but I was tired and I was bored, and I wanted to know what the heck he meant by sending me black roses. I knew what pink roses meant, what yellow roses meant, obviously what red roses meant, but not black. Was he trying to make some kind of funeral joke or something? You never knew with Carter. That man seemed to live in his own little world and made his own little jokes that he found amazingly funny, while we normal people were left trying to figure out what the heck he meant. He had referenced the lingerie in his note, and maybe that really was what he was getting at. So then why roses?

I realized that I was reading too far into it, but I couldn’t help myself. I knew Carter was smart enough to have several layers of meaning to every gesture, or at least he could if he wanted to. Maybe it was just as simple as black lingerie, black roses.

I stopped just outside of the music room, realizing something. This was probably what he wanted all along. Carter wanted me to read into these roses, wanted me to think about what they could mean. He wanted me to think about him, to obsess about him. Just by thinking about his gift, I was playing directly into his hand.

“Damn,” I said out loud, shaking my head.

A second later, the door swung open and Carter poked his head out. He startled me and I took a few steps back.

“Hey,” he said, cocking his head at me and smiling. “Were you talking to yourself out here?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I was on the phone.”

“Right.” He leaned up against the frame. “What brings you here?”

“I got your gift.”

“Good. Do you like them?”

“They’re more confusing than anything else.”

He shrugged and walked back into the room, leaving the door open. I followed him in as he walked behind the bar. “Drink?” he asked.

“White wine, if you have some.”

He nodded, opened a bottle, and poured me a small glass. He refreshed his own whisky and came around the bar.

“Why are roses confusing?”

“They’re black.”

“I told you why in the note.”

“Where do you even get black roses?”

“You buy white ones then you have them dyed black.”

“Sounds expensive and a lot of work for something that I’m just going to throw out.”

“That’s okay. Nothing but the best for the girl that leaves me cuffed to a bed.”

“You asked for that.”

“I don’t recall asking to scare some poor maid.”

“That’s not my fault.”

He grinned. “Agree to disagree.”

“Besides, why would seeing you half-naked scare her?”

“She’s pretty young. Probably never saw a cock like mine before.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. You and your unique penis.”

“Penis.” He scoffed. “You make it sound so clinical.”

“Good. You’re my stepfather, after all.”

He grinned at me. “Good point.” He moved closer, sitting on the stool next to mine, our knees touching very slightly. “Tell me something, do you always kiss your stepfathers the way you kissed me?”

I looked away. “That’s different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“I was drunk.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“High.”

“Nope.”

“Under the influence of gamma radiation?”

He laughed, grinning. “Okay, maybe that one. But it wouldn’t cause you to do anything against your will.”

“I don’t know, gamma radiation has some tricky properties.”

“Speaking of working too hard, you seem to be doing backflips to try and avoid admitting that you want to see my unique cock.”

“Believe me. I don’t need to work hard to avoid that.”

“What did you think when you saw the roses?” he asked, sipping his drink.

I sipped my wine, taking a second before I answered. “I thought you’re a total weirdo.”

He laughed again, clearly loving it. “I don’t believe that.”

“What did you think when you were sending them?”

“I was thinking how hard I get every time I think of seeing you in that lingerie. I think of how incredible that kiss was—and I know you know it.”

“It was a mistake,” I said.

“It was,” he agreed, “but that doesn’t make it any less incredible. Think about this, Emily. I can make you feel things I’m betting you’ve never felt before with just a kiss. Imagine what I could do if you let me have that perfect body of yours.”

I felt a thrill run up my spine as I imagined all of the possibilities, but I had to keep myself under control. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “What would my mother say about that?”

“She’d be unhappy, but she’d get over it.”

I stood up and walked away, needing to put some distance between us. He leaned one elbow on the bar top and watched me, a cocky smile on his face, sipping his drink.

“I don’t know where you get off with all this,” I said, feeling a bit angry. “You send me lingerie, you flirt with me, hell, you even kiss me. You ran to my aid like you needed to defend me.”

“I was defending you,” he pointed out.

“Cox had it covered. I didn’t need you.”

“Yes, you did.” He stood and walked toward me. “You pretend like you’re all high and mighty, like you’re above this. But we both know you’re not.”

“I don’t think I’m above anything. I just know you’re an ass and this is wrong.”

“That’s it, right there.” His smirk was infuriating. “You don’t even see it. The only reason you’re so mad about all of this is because you know you want me, and you want me badly.”

I clenched my glass of wine and shook my head. “No. It’s not true.”

“The more you fight back, the more I know you want me. Stop pretending and give in to me.”

“Asshole.”

He stopped inches away from me, just like the other day out on the lawn. I stared up at his gorgeous eyes, my mouth hanging open, and I knew what I wanted. But I also knew that wanting something didn’t make it right.

That didn’t matter to Carter. Without another word, he pulled me against him and kissed me deeply.

That feeling came over my again. It was a rush of desire, intense and powerful, something I’d never experienced before. He kissed me hard, tongue in my mouth, and I pressed my body closer against his large, hard chest. He took the drink from my hand and placed it on a side table as we walked together toward the couch on the far wall.

We continued to kiss, my hands on his strong arms and his hands on my hips, as he steered me to the couch.

“Wait,” I said suddenly. “Wait, wait.”

He broke off the kiss, his lips lingering on my neck. “What?”

“Bathroom,” I said, breathless.

“Why?”

“Where is it?”

“Down the hall, on the right.”

I pulled away from him, turned, and practically ran out of the room.

I didn’t need to use the bathroom, but I did need an excuse to get myself away from him. I knew that if he got me onto that couch, I’d give him exactly what we both wanted. But I also knew that if I did that, I’d never want to stop, and that was so much more dangerous.

The only way to make sure that didn’t happen was to physically remove myself from the situation. Otherwise, I wasn’t going to be able to resist him.

I hurried down the hall toward the bathroom, not really thinking about anything but Carter. His lips, his arms, his body against mine . . .

My foot knocked into something that felt like a soccer ball and I stumbled. Frowning, I looked down at the ground.

Thick, red moisture all over the carpet. I took a step back, my heart racing fast in my chest. I followed the trail of blood toward the thing I had kicked.

Staring back at me was the head of a dog, blood dripping from its severed neck.

I screamed, and kept screaming, until someone came to pull me away.