Выбрать главу

I let go. “What are you doing here? Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s really you!” I hug him tight again, burying my face in his hard huge chest muscles. “So good to see you! I’ve missed you so much! Oh wait. Oh no. If you’re here driving a limo, that means . . . oh shit, Dad’s in there, isn’t he?”

“No, I’m standing outside the ritzy Clarion Towers in a skeevy Miami neighborhood in front of a limo because I couldn’t figure out how else to pass the time.”

I smack him on the arm. “Still a dick, I see.”

He laughs. “Yeah, your old man is in there waiting for you. I’ve been texting you all day to warn you. Why don’t you fucking answer?”

“Yeah, my phone died. I forgot to charge it last night. How did he get in?”

“Black chick opened the door and let us in. He told me to wait in the car, which is fine by me. She gave me the creeps.”

“Oh my God! Karissa!” I put my hands up to my mouth.

He smiles, his gorgeous white teeth glimmering in the Florida sunshine. His black hair in his trademark crew-cut has the hint of a receding hairline, but it looks good on him. His face has a few more lines than I noticed before. God, he must be forty now, maybe older, but he barely looks a day over twenty-five. I forgot how good-looking he is . . . and how huge his shoulders are. My Trevor.

“So what’s up with this Karissa chick? She’s your roommate, right?”

“Yes, um, it’s just that she’s um . . . not somebody the family would approve of.”

“Well, no shit, Miss Marple. I noticed. Not that the fucking family approves of almost anybody except themselves.” (Now you know where I learned profanity.)

“Shit, maybe I’ll just not go up there.” I tug at the lapel of his suit jacket. “Let’s go out for drinks, just you and me.”

“Oh, that would go over well, me leaving your father here in this neighborhood. Just go up there. You can handle him. You’ll be fine, Smudge. It’s just your dad. It’s not like your mom would lower herself to come here. You’re good with your dad. Just work your magic and you’ll be fine. He always gives in to you. But, Smudge,” he touches my cheek with his thumb, “I gotta ask . . . are you okay down here? I’ve been worried about you. You look like you’ve been crying.”

I glance around at the courtyard. The old man with the towel is smiling at me.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I think so, anyway. I’m thinking about coming home.”

Trevor’s face lights up. “When?”

“Tomorrow. Or hell, tonight.”

He folds his arms, his shoulder muscles flexing through his white shirt. God, I miss him. He stares off across the street. “I don’t blame you for running away,” he says. “You needed to be away from all that, especially after what happened with Zander.”

I stare at the ground, a flash of poor Zander in my head. “Yeah.”

“I wish you had told me, though.”

“Well, I didn’t even know I was going to do it myself. I had that conversation with Addison and the next day I got on the plane. God, I can’t believe that was only two weeks ago. Feels like a lifetime.”

“Hey,” he says, then says it again when I don’t look into his eyes, placing his finger under my chin to raise my face. “I miss you, Smudge.”

“I miss you too.”

“But if you’re going to come back home, don’t do it ‘cuz of them. Do it for you. You can do anything, you know. You’re so much smarter than Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum.” I laugh. Those were his nicknames for my sisters, who have always treated him as hired help.

“Thanks.” We have a moment, one of our many moments of connection we’ve shared throughout the years. He leans forward, rubbing the backs of his fingers along my cheek. I notice my hand, all of its own accord, reaches up and squeezes his thick wrist.

I swear he’s about to lean in and kiss me, but he pulls back. “Now, get in there and talk to your dad. Buy yourself another month. You don’t really want to come back yet. It’s still July. You don’t need to be back at Wellesley until the last week of August. Your dad will understand. Just work him like you always do.”

“You know, you may be right. I’ve just had a bad day. A really bad day. I’m not thinking clearly.”

“So get up there!”

I giggle and turn. He slaps me on the ass.

God, I don’t know how I would have ever survived without Trevor while growing up. He was the perfect buffer between me and my family. And look, now here he is in this very strange place doing it again!

He was my nanny, my protector, my older brother, my guardian, my driver, and one night . . . well, let’s not go there. We stopped it before it actually started, and we’ve both put that behind us.

The one thing Trevor always does is boost my confidence with his drill sergeant style. As I walk up the steps of the building to Karissa’s apartment, I’m filled with a burst of energy and a determined spirit.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Hell no! I’m not going to let Lukas Thorn win. I’m better than him. I don’t need him. I came here to explore life away from my fucked-up family. And I’m going to do it anyway . . . without Lukas Fucking Thorn!

I take out my keys, but I notice the door is unlocked. I turn the handle and open it, my head held high as I walk into Karissa’s apartment.

The sight that greets me causes me causes me to drop my keys.

I gasp.

Karissa is standing in the middle of the living room wearing only a bikini top.

On his knees in front of her is my dad, her huge cock in his mouth.

* * *

Watch for Indecent Cravings: Part Three

releasing on

August 20, 2015

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to write an honest review at the site from which you downloaded this book.

YOUR Turn

What should happen next?

What did Lukas mean by saying he’s “not going to fall for it again” to Lorena?

Is Abigail going to go home?

How will she deal with the sight she just saw?

Is Abigail truly done with learning submission under Lukas’ instruction?

Why did Lukas suddenly end the session so abruptly?

YOU tell me.

First, get on my VIP list:

http://skcrossbooks.com/get-on-the-list/

Then, join the discussion on my Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/skcrossauthor

Or...

Send me an emaiclass="underline"

skcrossbooks@gmail.com

Talk to you there!

Also by S.K. Cross:

 

The Cage Sessions

 

Controlled by His Voice

 

Fifty Days

 

Capitol Submission

 

Mastered by His Touch

 

The Stark Affair