All Chapters of WAVES OF WANT : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

His Claim Lingered While I Pretend To Be Innocent The kitchen smelled like garlic and Chloe’s vanilla candle obsession. Laughter bounced off the white subway tiles—Lila’s bright cackle, Chloe’s softer one—and some pop song I didn’t recognize thumped quietly from the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. I stood at the island, pretending to scroll through my phone, pretending the ache between my legs wasn’t still pulsing like a second heartbeat. My thighs stuck together a little when I shifted. Slick. Warm. His. I pressed them tighter, crossed my ankles, tried to look normal. Normal twenty-two-year-old visiting her big sister and her best friend for a casual Friday night hang. Not the girl who’d just let Chloe’s dad fuck her senseless on his desk upstairs while everyone else sipped rosé and argued about which takeout place had the best pad thai. Lila glanced over from where she was pouring more wine. “You okay, Evie? You look flushed.” I forced a smile, the kind that showed teeth

The house felt smaller after that afternoon. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like footsteps coming to find us. Every laugh from downstairs felt like a countdown. I kept waiting for the moment someone would knock on the office door, or worse—push it open without knocking—and see the mess we’d made of each other. But no one did. Lila and Chloe stayed glued to the couch through two movies and half a bottle of cheap rosé. They called up for pizza around eight. Ordered extra cheese, extra pepperoni, the works. Harlan answered the door when it arrived, paid with his card, brought the boxes in like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t just cum down my throat earlier while I knelt on his office rug trying not to moan loud enough to wake the neighborhood. He set the pizza on the coffee table. Looked at me once—quick, searing—then sat in his armchair like always. Legs spread. Casual. Untouchable. I took a slice. Ate it without tasting it. My lips still felt swollen from him. My

Rachel’s hands trembled as she clutched her phone in the dark walk-in closet. The hidden camera she had installed two weeks ago—supposedly to watch the new cleaning lady was now streaming live from their bedroom. And what it showed made her thighs clench so hard she could feel her own pulse throbbing between them. Anger and hunger. There was her husband Alex, naked, sweaty, muscles rippling under the low light of their bedside lamp. His thick, veined penis, nine inches of pure fucking pleasure that she used to ride every other day was buried balls deep in her little step sister Mia. Mia’s legs were wrapped around his waist like a whore in heat, ankles locked, heels digging into his ass as he pounded her. The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin filled the audio. Mia’s pussy lips were stretched obscenely around him, glistening with cream, every thrust forcing a fresh gush of her juices to drip down his heavy balls and soak the sheets Rachel had just washed that morning. “Fuck, Mia… yo

The clinic smelled like antiseptic and money. White walls, soft lighting, the kind of place where rich people paid strangers to grow their babies. Rachel sat in the plush chair beside Alex, legs crossed tight so the damp spot on her thong wouldn’t show. Mia was already on the table in the procedure room, legs in stirrups, shaved pussy glistening under the bright lights because the doctor had just finished the prep. Rachel had slipped the first dose of poison into Mia’s protein shake that morning—two drops, tasteless, odorless. Just enough to start the slow rot in her sister’s blood. By the time the baby came, Mia’s organs would be soup. But right now Mia looked perfect: flushed, nipples hard against the thin gown, eyes glassy with excitement. The doctor smiled like this was normal. “Embryo transfer complete. Two perfect blastocysts from Rachel’s eggs, fertilized with Alex’s sperm. Mia, you’re officially our surrogate. Bed rest for forty-eight hours, then light activity. We’ll co