LOGINSTACY
I can't breathe. I don't want to breathe. His lips capture mine in a warmth, breathtaking embrace, our bodies collide and my heart skips a beat. It’s even more perfect than I imagined, His hand cups my cheeks, moving my head in directions he wants me. His tongue grazes mine, the feeling is foreign so my tongue pulls back but his hand moves upwards to my hair, his fingers digging deep as he presses me even deeper. His breathes are harsh and so are mine but he isn't pulling away, for some reason. I don't want him to. He tastes like mint mixed with vanilla, a weird combination that just happens to make sense. “ You taste so good,” He breaths into my mouth, “ Even better than I imagined.” My fingers tighten around his shirt as I try to match his pace, his hunger, his desire. He pulls away, his lips swollen and slick. His arms curl around me and he lifts me off the ground. His gaze doesn't leave mine as walks to a black motorcycle. “ Where are we going?” I ask. He places me on the motorcycle seat, my back rests against the handlebars, “ Somewhere not to far from here.” He replies and pushes the bike forward. His muscles flex as he pushes like I weigh nothing. He doesn't stop till we reach a bridge. He parks to the side and helps me off the bike, securing me in his arms. He walks me to the bottom of the bright right near the waters. He spreads his jacket and lays me down. He cages me between his arms, his gaze roams over my skin, eating me with his eyes. He leans down, not to my face to my chest, his teeth finds the small string the held my dress up and slowly he pulls, the bow Nika worked so hard on falls in lines over my chest. “ You look so beautiful.” He says, I can tell it's genuine from the look in his eyes. He looks at me like I'm his. Like he owns me. Like I'm the most beautiful person to him. It makes heat pepper my skin. He kisses me and this time, I'm the one who cups his face, matching his energy. He bites my lower lips, the metallic taste mixes with the kiss making the whole thing even hotter. His hands work magic on my dress and soon it's off me and his hands are fondling my breasts. He gives it hard squeeze, a moan escapes me and he devours it, his tongue twisting and swirling around my mouth. He brushes his fingers over my already hard nipples, electricity jolts through me making my toes curl and stomach tighten. He pulls away, air rushes in to fill my lungs. His lips move hungrily over me. Licking the vast expanse of skin the air grows a degree colder with each lick which informs me of how painfully exposed I am at night. Anyone can walk by and see us but at this point I'm too far gone to come back. His calloused fingers grazed my skin making shudder as his lips suck on my left nipple. My toes and fingers dig into the dirt and something between my thighs seems to clench. He grinds it between his molars, I'm a moaning mess. My hands leave the dirt and goes to his hair, gripping firmly, guiding him as he takes me to a new level of ecstacy. My hands are probably dirty but he doesn't seem to care as he licks me like I'd never been licked. His hands crawl over my skin. Moving down to my stomach, then even lower between my thighs, my pussy clenchs in anticipation as he shoves two fingers into me, spreading them wide inside me. “ Oh My God.” He mouth is still on me so I can feel him smirk. Slowly he pulls away, my nipple red and glistening with his salvia. His hands reach for his pants and brings out his length. The rest is a blur but one thing I know is that I won't be the same after that. _____ My eyes open and I'm met with the familiar walls of my bedroom, my head throbs, the morning lights burns into my retinas making me shut my eyes then open them repeatedly to adjust them to the light. My body aches. Especially between my thighs. I still remember how he felt inside me, how he made me moan till I couldn't speak anymore, how he licked and kissed every inch of me till there was nothing left. After which he probably brought me home. Right— Home. Where my mother is getting married to some guy. I'm about to take a step forward when I notice that all my stuff has been packed into a big pink suitcase. All that was left was a brown sun dress and blue jean jacket. My brows lift and I bolt out the room, making my way to the kitchen. Mother's humming echoes and sweet smell of pancakes fill the air but that's why I'm here. “ Why are my things packed into a suitcase?” Mother turns with her brows set in a frown. “ Is that your way of greeting your mother?” “ I asked a question mother?” She sighs, lifting her gaze from the stuff she was serving. “ We're moving to your Stepdad’s he wants us to bond as a family and plan for the wedding .” “ Who says I'm going?” “ I say so…” a masculine voice says from beside me, the person walks to mother. Wrapping his hand around her waist and kissing her, I barely stop myself from gagging. “ Good morning Stacy, I'm Jacob Henderson. Your stepfather and that's Joshua Henderson my step son.” Another person emerges from behind me, bearing plates and an apron and my world stops, my jaw dropping to the floor. It's him. That guy. From last night. We… he…. We slept together??!! Oh my God! This isn't possible. It can't be. He flashes me a smirk, handing my mother the plates. “ Hi, I'm Joshua. Your Stepbrother.” Jesus Christ! I slept with my Stepbrother.STACY’S POV I stare at the document in my stepbrother’s father’s hand, struggling to understand why my stepfather’s words have suddenly become the least frightening thing in the room.My father was planning to do something to Josh?Impossible.My father loved me, and although I know there were things he never told me, I cannot imagine him deliberately hurting the person I love.“What are you talking about?” I demand.Josh’s father ignores me and holds the document toward his son.“Take it, Joshua. You deserve to know what your father was involved in before you decide to judge me.”Josh doesn’t move.“If you have something to say, say it without playing games.”His father sighs, as though Josh’s refusal to cooperate disappoints him.“Your father discovered that the Blackwell family had been moving money through several businesses for years. He wanted to expose everything, but he needed evidence. Unfortunately, he chose to approach the wrong people.”“Who?” I ask.“Damien Blackwell, fo
JOSH’S POVI know I should have told Stacy everything before we left the house, but some truths become harder to confess when the person you love is standing close enough to see the disappointment in your eyes.She walks ahead of me, her handbag pressed against her side, determined to reach the old building before anyone else can interfere. I watch her for a moment, wondering how much longer I can protect her without becoming another person she has every reason to distrust.My father has always taught me that silence is a form of protection. When I was younger, I believed him. I thought the things he refused to explain were matters too complicated for a child to understand, and I accepted his instructions because I trusted him.Now, every memory of that night makes me question whether he was protecting me or simply teaching me how to live with his crimes.“Josh, are you coming?”Stacy turns toward me from beside the car.I force myself to move. “I’m coming.”She studies my face. “You’
I stare at Josh’s message, reading it repeatedly as if the words might change into something less disturbing.It was my father. And he wasn’t alone.My fingers tighten around the phone. For days, I have been piecing together fragments of a night that destroyed my family, but every answer seems to open another door leading to something worse.I call Josh again.This time, he answers.“Where are you?” I ask immediately.“At home.”“Then come here. We need to talk.”“Stacy, I don’t think—”“Your father was involved in my father’s death, Josh. You can’t send me a message like that and expect me to wait until you’re ready to explain.”He goes quiet.“Give me thirty minutes,” he finally says. “And please, don’t tell anyone I’m coming.”The call ends before I can ask another question.I look down at the brass key resting in my palm. The note from my father is folded beside me, its familiar handwriting reminding me that he anticipated this day, even if he couldn’t be here to guide me through
“Open the door, Stacy.”My stepfather’s voice carries a warning that makes me hesitate, but I refuse to let him see how frightened I am. I slip my phone beneath my pillow and unlock the door, finding him standing outside with his arms folded across his chest.“Why were you in the security room this morning?” he asks.“I wanted to check something.”“Something concerning John?”I look at him carefully. “How did you know?”His expression tightens. “The security guard informed me that you were asking questions about the recordings. I want to understand why you’re suddenly interested in things that have nothing to do with you.”“John was my father’s lawyer. How does his death have nothing to do with me?”My stepfather sighs impatiently. “You’re allowing grief to cloud your judgment. Whatever happened to John has already been investigated.”“Then you won’t mind explaining why you visited this house on the night he died.”His face changes, and I know he wasn’t expecting that question.“Where
I barely sleep that night. Every time I close my eyes, I see the stranger carrying the black briefcase, followed by the message telling me to check the security footage from the night John died.Someone knows what happened, and whoever keeps sending me these messages seems determined to lead me toward the truth without revealing their identity.By morning, I have made up my mind.I need to find the security footage before my stepfather discovers that I am looking for it.I wait until he leaves for work before heading downstairs. The housekeeper is cleaning the dining room, and the security guard is standing near the main entrance, checking something on his phone.I approach him with a smile, hoping I look more confident than I feel.“Good morning. Please, I need to check something on the security cameras from a few weeks ago. Can you help me?”He looks up. “What exactly do you want to check, miss?”“Someone came to the house on the night John died. I need to know who it was.”His expr
Stacy I stop outside the study, listening as my stepfather speaks to the stranger inside.“Then we need to make sure she never finds out.”The words leave me with little doubt that they are talking about me, but before I can move closer, Josh catches my wrist and gently pulls me away from the door.“Not here,” he whispers. “We need to leave before they discover we’re listening.”I pull my hand free. “I’m tired of running away every time someone mentions my father. If they have something to hide, I want to know what it is.”“And what happens when they realize you’ve heard too much?” he asks. “You don’t know what these people are capable of.”“Neither do you, apparently, because you’ve spent years keeping their secrets.”His expression tightens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he glances toward the study when we hear footsteps moving across the floor.We retreat down the hallway and slip into the small sitting room beside the staircase. From there, I can see part of the entrance to the
JOSH3 HOURS Earlier**Hena tugs at my sleeve, taking her lower lip between her teeth. “ Come on, you can't still be pissed.” She exclaims, and I push her off as I stand, walking to the balcony to take a drag.The party noise seems to fade, the silence engulfs me in its embrace.Footsteps click as
STACYMy mother tells me she has a boyfriend.They’re engaged.Engaged.The word sounds so wrong. So out of place and the worse part was she couldn’t even tell me.She loved Dad.I know she did.She said it—over and over again.Right? That was love wasn't it?So what changed?Or was it all just… wo
STACY“Are you coming for the party tonight? They say it's going to be the biggest one of the semester!” Nika chimes excitedly as she scrolls through her phone. Her gaze shifts, and her frown dips. “Oh right, you don't do parties.”“Exactly!” I reply as I shove the last textbook down my backpack. “







