Tempted By My Best Friend's Billionaire Father のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

ARIAThe clubhouse looked less like a building and more like a temple dedicated to old money and manicured lawns. White stucco walls gleamed under the relentless Malibu sun, and the air smelled of expensive sunscreen and saltwater. I felt like a fraud the second I stepped through the arched entryway, my gold stilettos clicking against the polished travertine. I'd spent my life in a town where luxury meant a brand-new tractor or a little-known steakhouse in the next county. Here, the waiters wore white gloves and the silence was heavy, curated to keep the noise of the common world at bay.I scanned the room, feeling a dozen pairs of judgmental eyes track my red dress. I didn't shrink. I leaned into the gaze, imagining I was a character in a movie, playing the part of the interloper.Julian sat at a table tucked far back on the terrace, shielded by a wall of flowering bougainvillea. The view was staggering, the Pacific stretched out in an endless sheet of turquoise, the waves crashing a

ARIAThe scent of fresh espresso and smoked salmon filled the dining room, but the air felt thick, like the moments before a lightning strike. I sat at the edge of the white marble table, my fingers tracing the rim of my porcelain cup. Every time I breathed, the silk of my robe slid against my skin, a reminder of the empty bed I'd left behind this morning.Across from me, Julian looked like he'd never left the boardroom. He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the hard lines of his forearms. He didn't touch his food. He just watched me."I'm still waiting for the explanation," Mika chirped, leaning back in her chair with a piece of melon halfway to her mouth. "The New York headquarters is the center of the universe. You don't just leave the orbit early. What happened? Did the skyscrapers fall over? Did you finally realize the coffee in Malibu is better?"Julian didn't blink. His gaze remained locked on me, sliding slowly from my eyes down to the

ARIAThe fabric of my bikini felt like a brand against my skin as I stepped back onto the deck. My legs still trembled, a dull, pulsing ache humming between my thighs where Julian had just dismantled me. I could still taste the salt and the metallic tang of desire on my lips. I scanned the crowd, my eyes locking onto Julian. He stood by the railing, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his expression a mask of clinical indifference. But his eyes, those flint-grey depths, were tracking the rise and fall of my chest, reading the wreckage he'd left behind in the bathroom.The atmosphere on the Sovereign had shifted from a party to a fever dream. The champagne was flowing in rivers, and the heat of the afternoon had turned the guests into a collection of flushed, half-dressed animals.Mika leaped up onto a teak lounge chair, her arms thrown wide. "Alright, you degenerate! Enough lounging. We're playing truth or dare. And I'm not talking about what's your favorite color bullshit. We go har

ARIAThe rhythmic slap of skin on skin jolted me awake. I lay frozen in the dim light of the cabin, my breath hitching as a sharp, guttural moan ripped through the silence. It wasn't a dream. The sound was wet, visceral, and coming from the adjacent berth.A muffled whimper followed, then the unmistakable sound of a tongue working frantically, accompanied by the frantic creak of the mattress. Mika and Grace. The truth or dare game hadn't ended with the sunset; it had just migrated behind closed doors. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the sounds only intensified, the desperate gasps, the rhythmic thud of a headboard hitting the wall, the raw, unfiltered noise of two women eating each other alive.I felt like a voyeur in my own bed. The air in the cabin felt thick, saturated with the scent of sex and stale champagne. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't lie there and listen to my best friend unravel in a heap of limbs and lust.I slid out from under the sheets, my skin humming with a residual r

ARIAI leaned against the cool granite of the kitchen island, a glass of iced tea sweating in my hand. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Malibu sun scorched the backyard, turning the pool into a shimmering sheet of turquoise. On the lounge chairs, Mika and Grace were a tangle of tanned limbs and salt-crusted skin. They weren't even trying to be discreet; Grace's hand disappeared beneath Mika's bikini bottom, and Mika's head was thrown back, her throat exposed to the sky as she let out a soft, rhythmic moan.The sight didn't shock me. Not after the last forty-eight hours. Instead, it felt like a distant echo of the chaos I'd just survived. My own body felt heavy, a lingering, humming ache settled deep in my pelvis, and the ghost of Julian's grip still burned into the flesh of my hips.My phone vibrated against the counter, the screen lighting up with a photo of my parents standing in front of their red barn back in Montana. I took a breath, smoothed my hair, and swiped the answ