Page 273 of Hateful Games

I’m left stuffed by the time I finish.

“Rosalie, would you mind driving me to Nova’s father?” asks Teresa after we carry our plates to the sink. “I was supposed to take his lunch.”

“Of course. Can I run to the restroom really quick?” I manage to ask with a straight face. Inwardly cursing Nova for having such a powerful hold on me.

“I’ll wait in the hall.”

I don’t make any wrong turns this time and enter Nova’s bedroom. Locking the door, I walk toward his bed with my heart racing and pussy soaked. I can’t believe I’m about to do this but an arousing thrill courses through my veins.

I decide to take it a step further.

Slipping my panties off, I kick them aside and lie down on his bed. With my knees bent and spread, I set the phone against the edge and aim the camera with one hand while inching the other to my bare pussy.

Instead of clicking a picture, I hit record.

As I roam my fingers over my slit. Using my wetness, I circle my entrance and slip one finger in and thrust twice. Feeling brazen by the naughtiness of it all, I push the same finger to my other entrance and spread my juices around. My entire body shakes as I steadily push my finger in until it’s to the knuckle. A low moan slips free.

Just as quickly, I pull out and sit up.

Stopping the recording, I don’t watch it myself—feeling shy—and send it to Nova.

I’m smirking as I put on my panties and rush to wash my hands, then slip out from his room. My phone pings with a string of texts, which I ignore. I would rather my face didn’t give away my very inappropriate actions.

Like I said, Nova has me in the palm of his hands.

Downstairs, I meet Teresa in the entryway and say, “Sorry for making you wait. Can you text me the address? I’ll navigate with the maps app.”

Nodding, she does so while I unlock my car as we step into the burning heat.

As soon as I turn on the ignition and take directions, I figure out we’re going to the recently jointly acquired dock. My thoughts direct to my father, dampening my mood into a dark cloud of dread and terror. Our last encounter would’ve left me locked up for days if I were still living with him.

Shuddering, I pray I don’t run into him.

Oftentimes I’ve wonder why he despises me so much.

His own flesh and blood.

How can my existence alone be a heinous crime? He punishes me for something that’s out of my control.

An hour later, we arrive at a bustling street near the docks. I wage a bet with myself and guess that Danish is here to visit the site and observe the workers. Large equipment used in logistics can be seen far ahead. A normal person may mistake it for a construction site.

I park under a shaded spot.

My sleek black Jaguar standing out like a sore thumb.

“Do you want me to come with you, Mrs. D’Cruz?”

“No need, beta. I’ll be quick,” she replies and gracefully steps out of the car, pushing her sunglasses higher against the sun.

The guard nods at her as she approaches and lets her in. No sooner has she disappeared inside a four-story building than I catch Danish coming from a different direction in my peripheral. He misses Teresa completely.

Jumping out of the car, I’m about to shout and reach him when he makes a swift path toward the deserted end of the street. Walking at a furious pace with another equally sharply dressed man following him, they round a corner.

My instincts warn me to stay where I am.

However, my feet have another idea.

I briskly stalk in the same direction until I turn the same corner. They are nowhere to be seen. So, I keep moving forward and screech to a halt when I hear multiple voices. Cautiously tiptoeing with my back against the wall, I avoid making noise on the rocky road and stop where it ends. Peeking around the wall, I smother my gasp.

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