Page 15 of Mastered By Desire

I save the essay I was proofreading. My tutoring work lately has been sparse, so I was glad to get this student. She’s a challenge, though. It’s pretty clear she doesn’t know what she’s talking about—she wouldn’t know Shakespeare from Virginia Woolf. I make a note to schedule a video call with her later.

Then, I pick up my phone and text Danica.It’s time.

I’m bringing Dmitri, she writes back.

6

Dmitri

Stepping into Leah’s apartment fills me with a heady cocktail of outrage, jealousy, disgust, and arousal. I can’t believe she’s lived in this sad, tiny apartment with Shitstain Mick for so long, and I’m mad she didn’t get out sooner.

There are dirty clothes—all belonging to Mick—strewn across the sofa. Rumpled chip bags take up most of the coffee table’s surface area. The only nice thing that looks like it belongs to him is a gaming console and TV, next to a computer and monitor. I wrinkle my nose. Danica has told me Mick would rather game than do anything kind for Leah.

The one thing that doesn’t look like it belongs in this apartment? Leah herself. She’s dressed in a pink hoodie and jeans. Her brown hair is in two chunky braids fastened with matching pink bands. She looks so fucking pretty, my heart stops.

“I have boxes,” I announce. Unnecessarily. I’m holding them. She’s standing right there. She can see them with her own blue eyes.

“Thanks.” She takes one from me and starts assembling it.

“I have the tape.” Danica steps out from behind me. “How long until he gets back?”

“Not sure,” Leah says. “He said he had a date.”

My sister looks murderous. She looks like she hopes Mick will come back while we’re packing. She’s five-foot-three in heels. Maybe a buck-fifteen soaking wet. She’s unarmed. But right now, if I were Mick, I’d fear for my life. Those gray eyes of hers promise pain.

To avoid her wrath, I get to work on assembling boxes.

Working also keeps me from ogling Leah.

Fuck. If Danica finds out about the auction, she’ll kill me.

When Leah first moved in with our family because her asshole parents forced her out of their house, Danica begged me to keep my hands off her friend. “I share everything with you, big bro,” she had said, “but please don’t screw up my friendship with Leah. No flirting, no dating, no hookups. Please.”

And it sounded fair. Plus, I looked at Leah as a child at that time.

It was an easy promise to make.

Two nights ago, I broke that promise in the most epic way possible.

Two nights ago, I fully became myself. Dominating Leah was heaven. It doesn’t matter that Gage orchestrated the entire scene. I was there, above her. Where I really want to be.

Where I really shouldnotbe.

I am not a safe man. I have dark impulses, urges. Leah sees the good in people. Sometimes sheonlysees the good. When she looks at me, I don’t feel like a piece of shit. I feel noble, capable, heroic.

And it’s a fucking lie.

So I ignore Leah. It seems the safest course.

She mostly directs Danica on what to pack. My role is carting the packed boxes down the corridor and loading them into my borrowed truck.

It doesn’t take long, and soon Leah is grabbing her keys and coat.

Danica stops her at the door. “What about furniture?”

“Uh…” Leah says. “What about it?”

“I distinctly remember going shopping with you to buy the couch, the kitchen table, and chairs. The mattress is yours too, right?”

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