And boy do I have issues. They seem to be a problem these days because it’s not just my aching desire for attention—it’s more. There’s this dire need to test the waters of some very unchartered territory—extremely off-limits waters. As in shark infested with red flags waving all around me saying Do. Not. Swim.
My attention is drawn back to the family as the girl’s father joins them, kneeling in his expensive suit, kissing them both. I admire the way his suit jacket accentuates his thick arms, and his dark hair, which I bet feels thick and soft to the touch. When his lips curl into a happy smile, I bite at my lower lip, wondering how they would feel kissing me. How his large hands would feel fondling my small breasts. I imagine his family walking away and me taking their place, stealing his attention. Laying me against the plush grass and showing me what it feels like to be wanted, loved.
But nothing ignites inside me. The fantasy becomes forced, and I find myself lacking the fire only one person creates inside me. A man who invokes a whirlwind of butterflies to take flight inside my chest. My skin flushes at the mere thought of him, and wetness builds between my legs.
Gabriel Walker.
My father’s best friend.
My dad would send me off to live with a bunch of nuns if he knew the forbidden thoughts I have about his best friend. Then again, he’s to blame. How could I possibly want a man twice my age? Why am I not eyeing the boys at school? Well, because my tastes are richer than that. And I’m not talking wealth. I’m talking stamina—a man who is so far off my radar, I shouldn’t even be debating the undebatable. The list goes on and on who and what I can blame for the impermissible desire I crave. My mother for abandoning me, or my daddy issues for so desperately making me want a real man to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay. Maybe life in general for not guiding me in the right direction. Or possibly my heart, which beats unexpectedly for someone who is explicitly off limits.
I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my time. I’ve taken things from people and crossed the line in more ways than I’d like to admit. But nothing tops the thoughts jumbling in my head right now—my plan to seduce a man entirely out of my league. A man I’ve fantasized about being under for most of my adolescent years. Everybody has their own addictions, and my drug of choice happens to be him. I always knew our age-gap was an obstacle, but rules would be broken no matter what.
So I waited. Watched. Flaunted my taut little self in front of him until it was time. Finally, I was eighteen, ripe, and of age. And now, with time ticking frantically away until I go to college, I know I’m ready to commit the sin of a lifetime and take on the burden of the downfall.
It’s now or never.
The question is: will he bite?
I sure as hell hope he does. Literally and figuratively.
Becoming bored of the view before me, I get up off the bench, and start walking to my car. When I pass the cute little family, I can’t help but bend down and whisper to the little girl. “For the record, Ring Around the Rosie is about a plague that killed a lot of people. And the ashes? Yeah, that’s everyone dying. You should really do more research into your nursery rhymes.”
Straightening, I wink at her daddy and walk away.HazelThe blazing fire in the sky beats down on my porcelain skin, giving it a sun-kissed glow. Today, I decided on my skimpiest white bikini. One that forces anyone to take a second glance. One I know he’ll willingly notice. The water glistens at my toes as I sunbathe along the pool’s edge, knowing he’s inside with my dad.
Gabriel Walker.
A man who’s been starring in my dreams for as far back as I can remember. I can’t specifically pinpoint the time and day my thoughts started to change about him. Was it during the many dinners he came to? The late-night drinks with my dad where I would interrupt and insist they entertain me until it was time for bed? Or was it the same time I realized he was also noticing me?
Gabriel was a man of extreme control. A cut-throat businessman—just like my dad—but with bigger fangs. Nothing about him intimidated me, though. Being around him was just pure excitement. His deep voice, always laced with intent. His thick biceps creating this sensation between my thighs whenever he brought his scotch to his full lips. And the way his smoldering eyes washed over me, seeing through me, yet not seeing me at all.