Dahlia POV
A month later
I'm home. I'm here. It's exactly like I remembered it, but something is wrong. I see him.
"That f*ck*ng shithead," I say to myself as I watch him.
A smirk spreads across his lips, the movement excruciatingly slow, almost as if he's not the least bit surprised to see me. He looks so satisfied with himself that it's all I can do not to walk up to him and slap that stupid smug smile right off his face.
Instead, I stand there, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that I swear everyone in the room must be able to hear it. I'm frozen, paralyzed, staring at him like I'm some kind of idiot.
David Sterling.
The devil incarnate.
A devil with the most hazel d*mn eyes I've ever seen, right here in my father's house.
When David directs those hazel eyes toward me, I just know he can see right through me. I'm naked under his gaze, helpless to prevent the heat from rising to my cheeks as his eyes linger on me.
The only thing I can think about is the last time I saw him which was – the heat of his breath on my neck that made me practically writhe with the anticipation of him being inside me, the way he bit the edge of my lip when he kissed me that caused me to cry out, unsure if I was feeling pleasure or pain. When the tip of his c*ck pressed against my entrance, I winced and he gave me an odd look. "Sh*t, Flower, tell me you've done this before."
"I forced a laugh, tried to sound more casual than I felt. That was all it was – casual. Hit and run was David's mantra. Unlike David, I had exactly zero experience with that. Like I earlier mentioned, I had been the good girl, the Little Miss Perfect my whole life – 5.0 GPA, class president, valedictorian, yeah, the whole nine yards. And to top it off, the daughter of Governor Peterson.
Yes, The one and only Governor Peterson.
And oh boy, there were certain expectations of me. Let's just say that no one – at least no one normal – was exactly clamoring to date the daughter of the retired Navy General. The same man who was expected to make a bid for President in the next few years.
And the same person who is still a freaking virgin.
I'd never been the type to hook up with strangers, and my relationship with Mark was supposed to be long-lasting. But after the breakup, I felt reckless. My outing with Racheal on the day Mark broke up with me came with many thoughts. And the next day, I made my decision.
Enough was enough. I was eighteen, a legal adult. I was headed to Yale, and I sure as hell wasn't arriving there with both my heart broken and virginity intact. I texted the one boy I knew would do the deed without questions – even if he was the only boy I truly couldn't stand.
David moved slightly, the head of his c*ck pressed insistently against me. "Tell me, Flower," he whispered, his voice nearly growling. "This isn't your first time, is it?"
"Of course, it's not, jackass," I lied, my jaw set, forcing an assuredness I didn't feel. "Are you going to screw me, or not?" I asked, acting like I didn't want it as bad as I did.
My father's voice cuts through the memory with military-like precision. "Dahlia," he says. "You know David Sterling."
Do I know David Sterling? My cheeks feel like they are on fire. Surely everyone in here can see what is written all over my face. Do I know him? Only in the most Biblical way.
I know how he tastes.
I know how his c*ck feels as it enters into me.
I know how it feels when I come on him, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as I cling to his body like I'm afraid I'll be swept away.
So if that's what he is asking, I sure knew him.
The boy I'd lost my virginity to – the same one to whom I'd mumbled an awkward "thank you" as I'd slipped out the door of the hotel the next day in what was inarguably the most awkward morning after exchange in the history of mornings after – the boy I hadn't spoken to since he did the deed a month ago – is now standing in my f*ck*ng living room.
With my father.
If I should rank all my embarrassing life moments, this sure would top it. A million thoughts are swirling around in my head. Does my father know? I wonder. No, he can't possibly. I was very careful that day. I told him I was going for a sleepover at Racheal's.
I tried to reassure myself as I thought of what to answer my father. My father would have already throttled him with his bare hands if he knew the debauched things David had done to me that night. The thought of those things sends a rush of heat between my legs that I try to ignore.
"Yes, father." I choke out the word, my voice little more than a croak. "I know David Sterling. Hello, David."
"Hello, Yale," David says, his voice drawing out the word, lingering on it. His lips turn up on the edges. The image of him above me, those sweet lips millimeters from mine, flashes in my head as clear as day.
"Standing there next to my oh-so-conservative father, David pulls his lips into a smirk again. And winks. If there is such a thing as death by humiliation, I swear I am a second away from experiencing it.
My father, apparently oblivious to what has to be the now-bright pink color of my face, says, "Of course you two know each other from Fandesvic Academy."
I swallow hard and nod, willing the heat in my cheeks to subside. "Yes. Fandesvic Academy."
"That means you also know David's mother, Stella Sterling," he says.
I've been so focused on David and my father that I haven't even registered that there was another person in the room. Stella Sterling. David's mother. She's an A-list movie star, one of the famous Hollywood icons. If I had met her in any other setting, I'd be fangirling right now.
But why is she and David in my living room? I silently pray this is all about some kind of political fundraiser, even though that might require that I play nice with David. Yuck.
"You know you'd like to do more than just play nice with him." The thought jumps right into my head, but I push it out.
"Hello, Dahlia." Stella steps forward and extends her hand. She's looking at me with the kind of affectionate expression you reserve for children and puppies, her eyes soft. "I've heard so much about you."
Before I can think about or ask why she's looking at me the way she is, my father speaks, his stern tone, clipped. Business as usual. "Ella and I have an announcement to make, and we want the two of you to hear it from us first."
Ella?
He's using her nickname. Do they call each other nicknames?
I could feel David's eyes on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Instead, I stand there paralyzed, afraid to draw in a breath, watching as David's mother reaches for my father's hand and covers it with hers, then looks up at him, positively beaming.
Oh my God.
It's like watching two trains moving in slow motion toward a certain collision. I know what my father is going to say before he even says it, but I just can't bring myself to believe it.
"We've managed to keep this out of the press, but we're planning to make an announcement soon. And the two of you have been shielded from it at boarding school. That wasn't intentional on our part. We meant to tell each of you over the holidays, but it just didn't seem like the right moment." He clears his throat. "And you should know first."
No, no, no.
"This may come as a shock."
That's the f*ck*ng understatement of the century.
"Ella and I have been seeing each other for some time. And we're getting married. It will be respectful of your late mother, of course. But it will have to happen this summer, before the major campaign push."
"What? Oh, my days. Oh my goodness. Oh my God." I'm screaming the words inside my head. I "I've just lost my virginity to my new stepbrother."
Now, I'm completely f*ck*d