Page 68 of Sinful Temptations

“But you were only fourteen?”

Nodding, I cleared my throat. “Dad said . . . do you know what an orgy is, sweetheart?”

Roman gasped. “What?”

I opened my eyes and huffed. “That’s exactly what he said. I remember it like it was yesterday. He never called me sweetheart, yet the way he spoke . . .”

I lowered my eyes, not wanting to see the pity in Roman’s expression. “It was like we were about to walk into hell. Of course, I had no idea what an orgy was, and when I shook my head, Dad smiled. I thought maybe an orgy was an alcoholic drink of some kind, and it was going to be my birthday gift.” I swallowed so hard it hurt.

Roman’s eyes were wide, and it was impossible to imagine what was going through his brain.

“Dad cleared his throat, and there was something about the way he smiled at me—I don’t know, it was creepy, yet almost like he was relieved. In that instant, I knew I wasn’t getting a bottle of special alcohol or a puppy for my birthday.” I sighed. “I was getting something that no fourteen-year-old should ever receive. The ugly truth.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me an orgy was like a party, except everyone has sex together. I yelled at him to stop. But he said I had to hear this, that it was time.”

“Oh no.” The horror on Roman’s face suggested he had an idea where my story was going.

“He said I was conceived at one of those parties. There were four men and two women—one of them was my mother.” I clamped my eyes shut but then I saw my father and his rotten smile, so I opened them and stared at my unique freckle. “Dad’s exact words were, ‘We all fucked each other like rabbits’.”

Roman squeezed my hands. The expression on his face matched my churning insides.

“I yelled at him to stop. Screamed it. I yelled for him to shut his fucking mouth.”

“What’d your mother do?”

“She never came out, if that’s what you mean?”

“Wow, that’s cold.”

“Mother only cared about herself.”

“I’m so sorry, Dais.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I squished my cheek to his chest.

Roman was so sweet. And caring. And perfect.

We sat there with our arms around each other, me listening to his heart and replaying that day, reliving my father’s speech over and over. What I did. What he did. What my mother didn’t do. Those pretty birds outside pecking at the ground. If that scene was scripted into a movie, it would end up on the cutting room floor for being too fucked-up.

Roman eased back, his expression a complicated mix of sorrow and confusion.

I shrugged. “So, there you go. I was conceived at an orgy.”

His blinking eyes confirmed he was trying to piece things together.

“Dad told me that one of the other men had to be myfather.” I could picture that man nodding at me like a huge weight had shifted from his shoulders.

“What?” Roman sucked air in through his teeth. “Why did he say that?”

I huffed, remembering every moment like it’d happened yesterday. Staring at that freckle, I repeated it word for word. “Dad said, ‘Well look at you, Daisy. We don’t look anything alike’.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Roman blurted. “Many kids don’t look like their parents.”

“I guess so. But I was made from a concoction of sperms. It explained why I looked nothing like my mother, nothing like my father. After he’d told me, nearly everything made sense. I’d always been a freak, and I finally knew why. It explained why I had big tits and narrow hips. Why I had red frizzy hair and very pale skin. Why I acted nothing like them.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Dais. Do you know who your father is?”

Shaking my head, I lowered my eyes. “The men were all on their four-day break from the coal mine. Dad couldn’t remember their names. He couldn’t even describe what they looked like. Everyone had been high on pot and drunk on whatever cheap grog they could get their hands on.

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