All Chapters of Secrets Behind Closed Doors: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I stood there against the doorframe for what felt like forever, my lips still tingling from his kiss, my thighs slick and aching. The cabin was silent except for the wind hitting the walls. Ryan’s warning echoed in my head…”If you come out here again tonight, I won’t be a gentleman”.My body screamed at me to listen to it. My brain,the shy, careful part that had stayed with Jake for too long,told me to lock the door and hide under the blankets. But I was done hiding. The breakup had left me feeling small and boring. Ryan looked at me like I was something worth unraveling. I wanted to be unraveled.I pulled the sweatshirt down as far as it would go, took a shaky breath, and stepped out into the hall. The floorboards creaked under my bare feet.. Ryan was on the couch, his elbows on his knees. His head snapped up when he heard me.Our eyes locked,His jaw tightening…“Sarah.” His voice was rough. “You sure?”I nodded, stepping closer until I was right in front of him. “I’m sure. I don’t w

The movie ended but neither of us moved to change it. The TV just kept on playing some random trailer on low volume while the room got darker as the afternoon light faded outside. I was curled under the blanket, pulling my knees up, but my body felt too aware of everything,especially him.Robb had shifted closer at some point. Not obviously. Just enough that his arm along the back of the couch was now behind my shoulders, and every time I breathed I caught that warm, clean scent of him again. My heart hadn’t settled since breakfast.“You cold?” he asked, his voice low.“A little,” I lied. I wasn’t cold at all. I was burning up.He tugged the blanket higher over my lap, his fingers brushing my thigh through the fabric. His touch lingered for a second longer. As I swallowed hard.“Thanks.”He nodded, eyes back on the screen, but I could feel him watching me from the corner of his eye. The silence stretched again, comfortable but uncomfortable at the same time.“So,” he said after a min

I never should have come home early.The big house was quiet because Mom was off in Paris again, lost in her shopping and secret flings. The marble floors gleamed under the lights, and the room smelled of leather and whiskey.This place belonged to Marcus. My stepdad. At forty-six, Marcus looked like pure sin in a suit. Tall, broad shoulders, strong jaw with a hint of dark stubble, and those sharp grey eyes that could pin you down with one look. He owned half the city and had powerful men eating from his hand. Me? I was just Lila, his nineteen-year-old stepdaughter. The girl dropped into his world when Mom married him three years ago.I told myself I hated him. The way he set rules, watched my spending, and filled every room with his heavy presence. But hate didn’t explain the hot ache between my legs every time he said my name in that deep, bossy voice.I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my heels. My tiny denim skirt rode up my thighs as I walked barefoot toward the kitche

I never thought I’d be standing there in the dining hall, my heart pounding, staring at the back of some guy’s messy hair while my teammates laughed about something stupid. But here I was. Coach had been on my ass for weeks about my biology grade. Hawkins was a total hardass, and if I didn’t fix this mess by Friday, I’d be riding the bench for the rest of the season. No Nike posters, no starting spot, just me watching from the sidelines while everyone else played.I spotted him at the corner table with his nerd friends. Vincent. The TA for Hawkins’ class. Tall, lanky but with muscle in that quiet way, with those wired glasses and ruffled hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants, arguing about video games like it was life or death. To everyone else, he was invisible. But I’d noticed him during lectures. The way he explained stuff at the board, calm and sure, like the complicated shit actually made sense to him.My stoma

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Vincent’s mouth on my tits, the way his hands had gripped me, the hard press of him between my legs. My body kept tingling, restless. I touched myself in the dark, trying to finish what he’d started, but it wasn’t the same. My fingers didn’t feel like his. I came anyway, quick and frustrated, whispering his name into my pillow like an idiot.I was Emma, the volleyball star. Guys chased me. I didn’t get weak-kneed over some quiet Tutor. But when I saw him in class talking to his friend while using his hand to demonstrate my thighs squeezed together under the desk. He caught my eye for a second. That small, knowing look made my face burn.After practice I went straight to his apartment. My legs were sore from drills, but that wasn’t why my heart was racing. I wore my warm-up leggings and a loose tank top this time. No bra underneath. I told myself it was just for comfort after sweating all afternoon. Deep down I knew better.