Page 22 of Primal

Mydad. The man that raised me for the first ten years of my life.

It didn’t matter he wasn’t around much after that, or that I rarely saw him even now. He was my flesh and blood.

This was wrong, wrong, wrong.

But the clenching need deep inside of me didn’t care if it was wrong. I felt like a primal hunger had been awakened inside of me, and I couldn’t shove it down and ignore it, no matter how hard I tried.

It would be different if I could just leave here, escape the temptation created by these two men. That wasn’t an option though. We were stuck under the same roof for at least another day or two, according to the weather report.

Joey was here too, somewhere. I hadn’t seen him since this morning, and I suspected he spent the day out on the porch so he could avoid me. I doubted he was truly upset about the breakup, other than the inconvenience of losing his doormat of a girlfriend, but it probably bothered him I was the one to do the dumping. The guy was controlling as fuck, and I was sure it hurt his pride when I ended things between us. I knew he was hoping for an early break in the weather so he could leave. I was too.

Then, you could be alone withthem.

No, I didn’t want that. I was locked up in my room because I was trying to avoid them. I didn’t want to be near Mason or my dad at all.

Yeah, right. Liar.

I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the voice in my head as I paced the room, a reaction to stress I seemed to have inherited from my father. A knock suddenly came at my bedroom door. I’d been holed up in here for the past two hours, ever since that confusing kiss.

“Poppy?” Mason’s voice came from the other side of the locked door, and my pussy tightened at the sound. I had the crazy urge to throw the door open and drag him inside, begging him to show me all of the things he said he could teach me about pleasure. “I made dinner. Are you hungry?”

Yes.

“No,” I called out. There was no way I could sit at the kitchen island with Mason and my dad after what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I couldn’t handle that. “I’m going to skip dinner.”

There was a pause and then the doorknob rattled, as if he tried to open it before discovering it was locked. A sigh came from him.

“I’ll save you a plate. You can heat it up later if you change your mind.”

I didn’t respond, and I heard his footsteps walking away a moment later. Anxious, guilty, and so turned on I could hardly stand it, I felt like I was going to go crazy in this room.

Remembering Joey brought along some alcohol for this week, just in case the cabin wasn’t fully stocked, I turned to the closet where his suitcase still sat and opened it up. There was a full bottle of pineapple vodka inside.

Hopefully it would calm my nerves. Twisting the cap off, I tilted the thing back, taking a gulp. It burned, and the sweetness of the pineapple flavor wasn’t nearly enough to overpower the strong alcohol flavor. I had a full-body shudder as I swallowed the shit, but that didn’t stop me from going back for another gulp.

Sitting on the foot of the bed, I drank more of the vodka and tried to talk myself out of being attracted to my father and stepfather. But the funny thing about attraction was that you couldn’t control it. You couldn’t force yourself to want someone and, unfortunately for me, you couldn’t turn off the desire for a person just because you wanted to be a normal woman who did not want to fuck her father figures.

Or maybe thatwasnormal. I took another gulp of the vodka as I thought about it. Wasn’t there some Freudian thing about this? The desire to fuck your mom or something? I supposed it could be applied the other way around.

Yeah, it totally could. I could write a book about this, become famous like that old guy. I could see it now:The Poppy Cartwright Theory. It’s not just about mothers anymore!I chuckled at that. Then, it became full-blown laughter I couldn’t control.

Okay, this was happening. I needed to get to work. Maybe my dad could help me? What better project to work on together than a book about banging the fuck out of each other?

I stood as I nodded in agreement with my own thoughts, and the world spun around me. Wait a minute, how much did I drink? I lifted the bottle in my hand and saw a third of it was gone. I blinked and wondered how much time had passed since Mason came to invite me down for dinner. It didn’t seem like long to me, but I was suddenly realizing I was drunk.

That was what I got for drinking on an empty stomach.

Setting the vodka on my nightstand, I tried to get my thoughts in order, but they scattered like dust on the wind. That thought made me think of my hike with Joey just a couple of days ago. He was so useless, couldn’t even enjoy being surrounded by beauty on all sides. He couldn’t appreciateanything.

I knew Mason would’ve liked it. He probably would have been talking the whole time. He was good at conversation. My dad was quieter, but there was something about his quiet steadiness that melted my insides.

I glanced at my bedroom door and thought about going downstairs. I wanted to be near them. It didn’t have to turn into anything sexual.

My pussy protested the thought by aching to be filled, but I ignored it and strode to the door, even though I was little unsteady on my feet. As I reached the door and flung it open, I let out a surprised squeal when I saw Mason standing there, his hand raised as if he was about to knock.

He was wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else. I sucked in a sharp breath as my eyes roamed over his broad chest and tight abs. He had sculpted arms and rock-hard thighs. This was a body created through hard work, and I wanted to lick every inch of exposed skin.

I forced my eyes to go back to his face and found him smiling broadly. Clearly, he liked it when I checked him out.

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