Semua Bab Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers : Bab 21 - Bab 30

“Miss Wilson.” I nod, like I’ve done the past few days, slipping into the backseat of the car taking me to the campus. I stare out the window, not seeing the trees that sway as we drive past or the cars on the highway. It’s been a week of repeating the same routine: waking up, getting dressed, getting to school, going through boring lectures with doodles in the pages of my books instead of actual notes, heading back, and staying in my room until Grace brings me dinner. I do the same thing when the car parks in the visitor parking spot outside the hall where I take Finance. I say nothing to the man who holds the door open. I know he’s going to hang around until I’m done, and I’ll see them, just out of plain sight, watching as I attend the other classes. I don’t care. I stopped caring since that night. “Alina?” I look up with a flat expression, my brows only narrowing slightly when I see a boy standing in front of me. Shaggy blonde hair, soft blue eyes…. “It’

I quickly bring a finger to my lips as I reach the door, signaling the man on guard before he can offer a greeting. “Is… Mr. Hawthorne home?” I ask. He blinks a few times, like the question has to travel a long distance before it lands. Then he shakes his head. “No, ma’am. Mr. Hawthorne left this morning and hasn’t returned yet. The housekeeper’s still inside, though.” A brief, thoughtful frown creases his brow. “Do you need anything? I can call—” “No!” The word comes out sharpe. I cover it quickly with a strained little laugh, rubbing my arm as if to smooth out my nerves. “I’m fine, thank you.” He nods once and steps aside, opening the door for me. I slip inside with a relieved exhale and a smile that lingers a little too long. After karaoke at the bar—and a string of other things Shane somehow convinced me into—I let him take me to the beach. Volleyball, laughter, salt air. He was perfect at it. I was not. The hours slipped away so easily I almost forgot the weight

Apologize. Say you’ll never snoop again with your most sincere, apologetic expression and hope that he believes. Maybe tell him a version of the truth, while praying to everything known and unknown that he takes your “insomnia” excuse. “Only bats sit in the dark.” That’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth as I stand in the middle of Adrian’s office, caught red-handed. I seriously had to work on my communication skills. “I mean,” I wave my hands as I try to backtrack and pull myself out of the sinking sand, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” Great, Alina. You just sank in another couple of inches. I should just go ahead and tell him the real truth, that I was looking for something incriminating so I could blackmail him in the future. He’d like that very much. Honesty and bravery in the face of a man who holds the fate of my future in his hands. I flinch when he stands, backing hard into the wall. He walks around his desk without a word, walkin

He shifts his hips, a slow, deliberate roll that drags his cock along sensitive, overstimulated nerve endings. I gasp, my head falling back against the shelf, knocking a few titles askew. It’s not the frantic, desperate rhythm from before; this is a lazy, torturous tease. He withdraws until just the tip remains, pausing there to let me feel the emptiness, before sinking back in with a shallow thrust that goes nowhere near deep enough to satisfy the craving he just woke up. "Look at you," he murmurs, his lips grazing the sensitive shell of my ear. His voice is a low rumble, vibrating through my chest and settling low in my belly. "Already desperate again." I try to rock my hips to take him deeper, to force the pace, but his hands clamp down on my waist, holding me immobile against the bookshelf. His fingers dig into my ribs, controlling every second of pleasure he allows me. "Stay still," he commands, the authority in his tone making my thighs tremble. He pulls out again, agoni

“Hey.” I shorten my strides as Shane jogs to catch up, struggling to take off his helmet. “Hi,” he smiles, but I barely summon a side-cheek twitch. “Accounting, hun?” He attaches his helmet to a silver hook hanging on his bag. “We should be able to get front seats. Hey,” he nudges me lightly, a playful chuckle leaving his lips, “if you need help. I suck at karaoke, but I’m good with numbers.” “Yeah,” I mumble, staring straight ahead. “What are you doing after…? We could head back to the bar, maybe go somewhere else? I have a list of cool places you should absolutely check out,” he offers, bouncing with his steps. “Yeah,” I say. I’m running out of answers to give, without sounding like a jerk, but I don’t want to lead him on either. The last time I let myself forget my reality, I made a mistake that would’ve cost me a lot. We walk into the class, and I make a curve as he heads for the front row, climbing the steps leading to the back. My neck burns with the weight of his gaze—