Chapter 6

Lexie’s chest rose and fell in panic. Her hair was messy, lips swollen, her whole body trembling with what had just happened. She scrambled for the duvet and dragged it over herself just as her father turned the knob and entered.

“Lexie?” his deep voice filled the room.

She quickly pulled the blanket up to her chin, forcing her breathing to calm. Her dad flicked on the light, making her squint.

“You’re sweating,” he said, setting down a small plate on her nightstand. “I brought you chicken breast. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Lexie forced a small smile. “Yes, Daddy. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Her voice shook, but she prayed he wouldn’t notice.

Mr. Moore sat beside her on the bed, his hand brushing her hair back gently like when she was little. Lexie bit her lip hard, guilt pounding her chest.

“Tell me the truth, baby. What’s going on?” His eyes searched hers.

Lexie shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing, Daddy. Really. Just tired.”

He sighed and leaned back slightly. “I haven’t seen Kira around. Did something happen between you two?”

Lexie’s throat tightened. Her eyes burned as tears gathered. “We’re… fine,” she whispered, looking away.

Her dad frowned. “Lexie, you and Kira are like sisters. If there’s an issue, you need to sort it out. Promise me you’ll try?”

Like sisters? Daddy, you have no idea. Lexie thought.

She nodded slowly. “I promise.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Good girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight, baby.”

Relief washed over Lexie as he stood and walked to the door, but the relief didn’t last.

Because instead of leaving, he paused, his hand on the knob.

“Oh, before I forget,” he said casually, “have you seen James around?”

Lexie’s heart skipped so violently she thought it might stop. Heat spread across her forehead, beads of sweat forming instantly. She swallowed hard, forcing a shaky “No.”

Her dad studied her face for a second longer than she liked. Finally, he nodded. “Alright then. Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut.

Lexie let out a shaky exhale. She remembered James was behind the door. She had felt it, sensed his presence, but her father’s questions about Kira had drowned everything out. For one moment, she forgot. She hugged the duvet close, trying to steady her breath. Then the door creaked again, her heart stopped, it wasn’t her father, it was Mr. James.

He stepped closer, bolting the door silently behind him. His shirt clung to his chest with sweat, his eyes dark and intense, his jaw tight like he was holding back more than words. Lexie sat up a little, pulling the duvet tighter around her chest. “Oh my God… I almost forgot you’re hid there.”

He didn’t answer, he only watched her, his gaze heavy, almost dangerous. The silence stretched, filling the room like a storm waiting to break.

“You were listening?” she whispered.

His lips curved faintly, not into a smile but something sharper. “You lied so sweetly to your father, peach.” His voice was low, almost a growl.

Lexie’s throat went dry, she wanted to snap back, to tell him he shouldn’t even be here but her body betrayed her. Heat pulsed between her thighs just from hearing his voice.

James moved closer, picking up the plate of chicken from the nightstand. He tore a piece with his hand, brought it to her lips, and waited.

Lexie hesitated, her pulse racing. “I can feed myself.”

“Open,” he ordered softly, his eyes daring her to disobey.

Her lips parted. He pushed the piece past them, watching her chew slowly. His fingers brushed her lips as he pulled away, leaving a spark that spread down her neck. When she swallowed, her breath hitched. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

James leaned down, close enough that she felt his breath warm on her cheek. “Because you make it impossible not to.” Her chest tightened. His hand tugged the duvet just slightly, exposing her bare shoulder. Lexie gasped but didn’t pull away.

“You’ll get caught,” she said, though her voice came out weak, shaky.

“Then don’t moan so loud this time,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her collarbone.

Lexie’s body betrayed her with a shiver. She hated how much power he had over her, how one touch melted her defenses.

“James, please…”

But her plea was swallowed when his mouth caught hers. The kiss was hot, needy, and she gave in far too easily. His tongue pressed past her lips, tasting her deeply as if he owned her. The plate of chicken slipped from his hand onto the bed as he pushed closer. His palm cupped her jaw while the other slid down, resting just above her breast, teasing without touching.

Lexie whimpered against his lips. She shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t crave him like this. But her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

James broke the kiss, his lips brushing her ear. “You think about me when you’re alone, don’t you?” Lexie’s eyes squeezed shut, her face burning. She couldn’t lie, not when his hand slipped lower, teasing the edge of her duvet. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

James let out a low groan, as though her answer tortured him. His hand slid further under the blanket, tracing the side of her waist, stopping just short of her panties.

Lexie arched her back, her breath coming out in shallow gasps. Her body begged him to go further, but her mind screamed that her father's room was just down the hall.

“Stop,” she whispered weakly, grabbing his wrist. James froze, his chest heaving as he stared into her eyes. For a moment, the world stopped. Then slowly, he pulled his hand back. “You’re driving me insane, Lexie,” he said, his voice rough with restraint.

Her lips trembled. “Then leave,” she whispered. But neither of them moved.

Instead, James tucked the duvet back around her like he hadn’t just threatened to tear it away. He brushed a feather-light kiss against her forehead, the same place her father had kissed earlier but this one burned, leaving her restless. “Sleep,” he whispered, his hand lingering on her cheek. “Before I forget myself.” Lexie’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She wanted to beg him to stay. She wanted him gone. She wanted both at once. James finally stood, his shadow stretching across her room. He picked up the fallen plate of chicken, set it neatly on the nightstand again, and walked to the door.

Lexie lay frozen, her body aching, her lips swollen, her thoughts tangled beyond repair. Before leaving, James looked back at her one last time. His eyes burned with all the things he hadn’t done, all the things he wanted to. Then he slipped out, closing the door with a soft click.

Lexie pressed the pillow over her face and let out a muffled cry. Her body was on fire, her heart torn. How much longer could they play this dangerous game before it consumed them both?