Page 26 of Don't You Pucking Dare

He’s working himself roughly as he leans over me. Tattoos and hard muscles tower over me. Instead of looking at my tits or pussy, he stares into my eyes as warmth pools all over my body. I want to look down at his cock spilling out, but the look in his eyes holds me still. I can’t stop staring back.

When he looks down at his mess, he glances back at me. "I’ll give you the journal this weekend."

"No, I need it right now."

"Then tomorrow."

I watch as he grabs my underwear from his pocket and cleans the semen from my body with it. He swipes his finger on my waist where it dripped down and stares at me.

"Open your mouth."

My heart plummets as I stare back. I slowly open my mouth as he wipes his cum on my tongue. He tastes like salt and sugar.

He grabs my chin and says, "I’ll be back tomorrow."

"No!" I say frantically, still tasting him on my tongue. He places my underwear down on my desk as he tilts his head at me. "Meet me at the library or somewhere on campus. Please."

He glares at me. "Curious to see my face, Duchess?"

"Maybe," I answer. Letting him believe that is easier than admitting I don’t want this to happen again.

"I’ll be here with your journal tomorrow." Before he walks out, he turns to me and says, "You’re not allowed to orgasm without me. You belong to me now."

Shit.

Chapter 12

The black shirt still carries her scent— strawberry and rosin from her precious cello. I fold it carefully, almost reverently, before sliding it into the manila envelope. Next come the photos: Lola walking to class, practicing in the window, laughing with Kiah. Moments stolen through my lens. Finally, the strands of hair from her brush, collected like evidence of a crime not yet committed.

Rick Kemper needs to understand the message without a single word being written. Someone's gotten close enough to touch his daughter's things. Close enough to take pieces of her.

"Noah." I hold up the envelope, heavy with threat and promise. "Need one of your guys for a special delivery. First phase is ready."

He takes the envelope, weighing it like he's measuring my commitment. "My people are discrete. Consider it handled."

"I'll send you Kemper's schedule." My phone's already loaded with his movements, tracked as carefully as his daughter's. "Every detail's mapped out."

"Both of them?" Noah's eyebrows rise. "You're running surveillance on father and daughter simultaneously?"

"The only way to break him is to know everything." The words taste like victory. "Every weakness. Every routine. Every chance to strike."

Noah grips my shoulders, pride and warning in his grip. "Finish the second phase, and you'll be one of us." His smile carries an edge sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't fuck it up."

I won't. The envelope may carry pieces of Lola, but soon I'll own every part of her.

The look on Rick Kemper's face when he opens the envelope is worth every second I spent stalking his daughter. I watch from the shadows as one of his lackeys delivers my little gift. The great Rick Kemper, hands shaking as he lifts a lock of chestnut hair from the envelope.

The photos fall into his lap. All those precious moments he never bothered to witness himself. When he glances around, I sidestep into the alley and disappear.

"How'd daddy dearest take it?" Caleb asks, sprawled on the leather couch while I sharpen my knife. Jack's in the corner, methodically cleaning his newest toy.

"Couldn't even tell if it was her hair at first." The blade catches light as I test its edge. "Probably doesn't know what color it is. He probably doesn’t know what she wears. What she smells like. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had no idea what she looked like. He hasn’t been in her life."

"Fucking pathetic." Caleb's voice carries that edge it gets before someone bleeds. "You sure hitting the daughter will work?"

"You should've seen his face," I smirk, remembering how the mighty Rick Kemper turned to his grunt for advice. "The great man, reduced to asking his dog what to do."

The words from her father's letter echo in my head— all that cold dismissal, that casual cruelty. He's a monster, sure. But watching Lola read that letter over and over, seeing how she treasures even his rejection...

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