Page 32 of Grace
Neither realized I was there. But the second I saw her, her fiery red hair swaying down her shoulders, how innocent andsweet she looked, I knew I had to have her. I knew my son didn’t deserve her or treasure her. I knew she was wasting her time with him because I know Bash too well.
I’ve managed to scratch my itch for Grace with a simple fuck, some porn. I thought that one time with her would be enough. I laugh as I turn on the shower. I was lost without her, so stupid to think that just anyone would do. She’d been on my mindconstantly. At the same time, I’d accepted that I couldn’t have her. I wouldn’t steal a woman from my own son. I’m not that twisted.
And then, the most beautiful thing happened. Bash asked if she could work for me, if I had anything for her.
Yes.
A simple word that changed everything.
Grace
My skin still buzzes, my thighs keep squeezing, and the blush on my cheeks won’t disappear. The release from today still rakes through my body like a song, begging me to give in to lust again… and again… and again…
Oh, God, I’m screwed.
So, so screwed…
How am I going to pretend that nothing happened today? Or should I expect it to happen again?
Would I say yes?
My heart beats faster and I clutch my chest. I remember how important it was for Daniel to get my consent, how important it was for him to hear that I wanted him too.
“What happened to you?” Ashley asks as she stares at me, her eyes trailing over my body before her eyes widen.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God, something happened!” she squeals and runs closer, grabbing my hands in hers as she beams. “Tell me everything. How was it, how does he look, how is his dick?”
I gape at her, lost for words, and she tugs me to the couch.
“We–We…” I sigh. “He…”
“Did you like it?” she asks, her voice softer as I struggle to open up about this.
My cheeks are flaming hot. I’m not sure I’m ready to give details, but that question… it’s easy to answer. “Yes,” I sigh. “I really did.”
“I knew it! You’ve found your buttons, love!”
I chuckle softly as she scoots closer. She looks eager, like I’m about to tell her a bedtime story. When I don’t continue, she pats my knee. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but just give me something.”
“Marko?” I ask, and her gaze narrows.
“Nicely played,” she murmurs.
“If you tell,” I taunt, “I will.”
She shakes her head and shivers. “No, please don’t make me relive that.”
“Was it that bad?”
She shrugs. “That’s the thing. It wasn’t.” She sighs and leans back as her hands drop from mine.
“And that’s bad?” I ask slowly, struggling to keep up.
“Very,verybad. I see him every day. I can’t…” She peeks up at me. “Yours was different,” she mumbles and crosses her arms.
“Very different,” I say with a soft laugh.
“We’re so fucked,” she says and follows my laugh.
