Page 23 of My Favorite Secret
“Why haven’t you told anyone what I did to her?” I ask.
“Because I like having dirt on you. It can be our secret, you little sinner.”
I shove his chest. He’s quick and grabs my wrists, pulling me close and wedging his way between my legs. I gasp at the position we’re in. With the swift movement, my dress has ridden up. My panties are on display. His dick is right against me.
“The innocent little virgin, saving herself for marriage. Yet you’re not even trying to fight me off. I bet you’re soaking wet for me right now.”
I am and I’m disgusted with myself. What’s worse is how much I like the way he’s holding me, his inked hands tight around my wrists. I’ll be sore afterward, for sure. Yet I don’t care. Ishouldcare. Ishouldbe fighting him off.
Felix leans in with his green, hypnotizing snake eyes on my lips. The woody scent of his cologne makes my head spin. For a moment, I think he’s about to kiss me. The pulse between my legs kicks into overdrive, aching.
Instead, his hot breath brushes against my ear as hewhispers, “I’m going to have so much fun with you over these next two weeks. No Tyler around to protect you.”
“All right, you two,” Mom calls to us from the opposite side of the Jeep, finished with her phone call. “Let’s unpack this car.”
Right before releasing me, Felix presses his hips to mine, and I gasp as his dick rubs against my clit. Hisharddick.
I step out from the car, bewildered by what just took place between us and how much it turned me on. I’m fearful of whatever he’s implying, and appalled for liking that I have his attention, even if all he intends to do is torture me.
CHAPTER TEN
HARPER
My first five days at the beach house are complete shit.
I’ve barely interacted with my parents aside from mealtimes when I’m forced to dine with them and Felix. Each day, Mom drives me to and from a nearby ballet studio for class. She tries to engage in conversation, asking about things that interest me, like dance and how my friends are, and insists Felix’s behavior is already showing signs of improvement. I respond with one-word answers, fuming over how mistaken she is about Felix and how I can’t even tell her because I’m afraid he’ll rat me out for throwing a dagger at him and injuring that girl.
Every time I step out of my bedroom, I feel his presence suffocating me. Each morning, I go for a run on the beach then cool down with stretches by the pool. He always chooses that exact time to swim in the pool then lay on a sun lounger to watch me stretch.
He showers with the door open. Afterward, he walks freely with nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist. I don’t want to look, but there’s no avoiding the sight of his body when it’s shoved in my face. He hastwo full sleeves of ink. Tyler tells me all of his brothers work out together in their home gym, and it’s obvious when I see how defined Felix’s muscles are without a shirt on.
Sometimes, Felix catches me looking and grins, like he’s pleased his presence makes me uncomfortable. One morning when I was stretching by the pool, he had a girl straddling him in the spa, grinding against his dick. I wanted to throw a pool chair at the girl. When Felix caught me staring, he smirked and called out, “Where’s your dagger this time, sweetheart?”
I don’t know where this girl came from. My parents didn’t know about her, that’s for sure. Which tells me Felix is still up to his usual tricks.
Unable to control myself, I snuck into Felix’s bedroom, found what must have been the girl’s belongings, and tossed them out the window with no remorse. In the moment, I justified the behavior by telling myself it was a more mature decision than throwing the pool chair at her. Or a dagger.
Regardless, I hate myself for stooping so low. I barely recognize myself, fighting with my parents, feeling possessive to the point of violence, all over a guy I hate—a guy who is downright harassing me.
Thankfully, the weekend is here, and Mom has allowed Tyler to stay two nights, with the hope that he’ll cheer me up. He drove up here in the Audi Josh gifted him for his eighteenth.
It’s late Saturday evening and the two of us are in the movie room, sharing popcorn and laughing as we watch some ridiculous horror movie he picked out.
I’m freshly showered with wet hair, wearing a pink satin night dress, along with Tyler’s hoodie to keep warm. He’s mindlessly flicking something backand forth in his hand, the object making aclinkingsound. I can’t tell what the item is. The room is dark, the movie offering dim light. I glance Tyler’s way to identify the object but get distracted with a rush of flutters in my tummy when I catch him side-eyeing me.
We’ve made eye contact plenty of times, but this feels different. There’s weight to it. He’s my best friend and I can read him well. Without speaking a word, I know he’s thinking about kissing me. I hope he can read me just as well and see how badly I want him to lean in and close the distance between us.
My breath hitches when his gaze dips to my mouth. I psych myself out, scared of how a kiss will change our friendship. “Why are you watching me instead of the movie?”
He laughs quietly and theclinkingcontinues. “Because your hair is dripping all over me, Princess.”
My chest deflates. I don’t understand myself these days. One minute, I want Tyler’s lips on mine. The next, I’m afraid of my feelings for him.
“What are you playing with?” I take the object from his hand, raising a confused brow when I realize it’s a Zippo lighter. One of those really old and sophisticated ones. “Why do you have this? You don’t smoke.”
Something is engraved on it. I tilt the Zippo, catching enough light from the movie to read an engraving.The house always wins. Except when we play.
“It’s a souvenir.” Tyler places the lighter in his pocket, giving no further explanation, then grabs my waist, effortlessly pulling me onto his lap. “Want me to braid your hair?”
