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even harder, and a soft moan escaped my lips.

He pulled back just a tiny bit, reached out and grabbed my hands, which were still clutching my bra, the lacy material the only thing keeping him from seeing my bare breasts.

“Cole,” I repeated, but my voice sounded weak. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” he said, his grip on my arms tightening.

“I don’t… I think I should go.” Even as I was saying the words, though, I could feel how wet he was making me. I was turned on not just at the thought of showing Cole my naked body, but of him forcing me to do it, of him being in control of me, of making me doing things just to please him. The realization was upsetting and shocking.

He leaned in close to me and his breath tickled my neck. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Avery. If you want me to stop, say it.”

He pulled back and looked at me, his face softening for a slight moment. He waited for me to say I wanted him to stop, and I could see he was telling the truth – if I told him to stop, he would. But I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t want him to stop any of it. I wanted him to tell me what to do, I wanted him to make me do things that were wrong and pushed my limits and made me uncomfortable. I wanted him to control me.

So I stayed quiet.

And after a long moment that same cocky grin returned to his face and his grip on me tightened.

He moved in close so his lips were just millimeters from mine. His lips grazed the side of my neck, softly, slowly, the roughness of his stubble brushing over my skin.

He pulled back and looked at me, then took my hands and pulled them down roughly. Then he reached up and pulled the straps of my bra down and off until I was in front of him, my breasts exposed, completely topless.

“God, Avery,” he growled, pushing his dick against my panties. His hands found my tits, his thumbs grazing the nipples as he fondled me. “Your tits drive me insane. When I saw you up there in that tiny little bikini, I wanted to fuck you right there.”

“I want you to,” I said, completely losing my mind. “I want you to fuck me. Please, Cole, I want you to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, Avery? You want me to fuck that tight little pussy with my dick?”

“Yes,” I said. “Please, I need you to.”

His hand slid from my nipple, moving down my stomach until he was at the top of my panties. His hand slid even lower, dipping into my panties until his palm was on my mound and his fingers were on my slit. He parted my lips slightly, his middle finger starting to slide inside of me.

Immediately, my body felt like it was going to explode.

His finger wasn’t even completely inside of me, and I was going to come.

He pushed a little more inside, my center stretching out around his finger, and I felt myself on the edge of an orgasm.

“Oh my god,” I moaned as his thumb swirled around my clit at the same time his finger moved deeper. “Cole, I’m going to come.”

I hadn’t meant to say the words out loud – it was embarrassing, coming so quickly after being touched by him. But I couldn’t help it. What he was doing to me felt so good, the culmination of years of secretly wanting him and the demanding way he had made me strip and how he was taking me like he owned me, like I belonged to him even though he hadn’t seen me in years.

“Please,” I gasped. “Don’t stop, I’m going to come.”

But he didn’t keep going.

In fact, something about me saying that I was going to come made him stop. He pulled away from me, taking his hands from my body, leaving me there, naked and on the edge.

He turned and picked up the suit coat he’d placed on the back of his chair and slid his arms through it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We’re done.”

“What?” I asked, jumping off the desk and holding my hands over my breasts. I picked up my bra and started putting it on. “What do you mean, we’re done?”

“I mean we’re done doing what we’re doing. You can leave now.” His back was toward me, and he began opening the blinds.

Strips of sunlight flooded the room, and I raced to gather my clothes off the floor.

“I can leave now?”

“Yes,” Cole said. He wouldn’t look at me, instead moving methodically from window to window, snapping each set of blinds open as he went. By the time he got to the final window, I’d managed to get my clothes back on, so when he turned around, I was completely dressed.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I said.

“Avery,” he said. “Please. Don’t do this.”

His voice was controlled, devoid of emotion, and I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. This was why I had vowed to never talk to him again, why I should have known better than to ever get involved with him. I didn’t care if I was going to be homeless, I’d rather be in some shelter somewhere or go back and beg Gordon to let me come home than to be with Cole.

“Don’t do what, Cole?” I asked. I was yelling now, and I felt completely out of control. “Tell the truth? That you’re a dick, that this is all a game to you? That you said you’d never hurt me, and yet that’s all you do, over and over again?”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, staring at me, and it was infuriating.

“Fuck you, Cole,” I said.

I picked up my shoes and headed for his office door.

I flung it open just as someone on the other side of it was about to knock.

A blond girl, tall and thin, stood in the hallway, her hair in shiny waves around her shoulders. She was dressed in a short black skirt and a black blazer that hugged her lithe body.

“Oh,” she said when she saw me. Her eyes took me in, and I realized I must have looked crazy and disheveled, standing there with my clothes all askew, holding my shoes in my hand. “Sorry, I just… I heard yelling. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Kalia.” Cole’s voice came from behind him, firm and in control.

I turned around and glared at him, wanting to tell him that no, everything wasn’t fine.

“This is my stepsister, Avery,” Cole said. “Avery, this is Kalia, my assistant.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kalia said politely, but her tone was cold and reserved. I hated the way she was looking at me, like she was instantly dismissing me as someone who could rival her for Cole’s affection. I wanted to tell her what he’d just been doing to me on his desk, just to see the look on her face.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I said tightly. “I was just leaving.”

Kalia’s eyes traveled down to my bare feet, and I felt my face flame red. I really doubted she knew what Cole and I had been doing – I saw the look on her face when she’d heard I was Cole’s stepsister– but this was the way it always was whenever I ran into someone who seemed to remotely have their shit together.

Here she was, dressed perfectly, with a great job as the assistant to one of the most powerful men in New York City, her hair expensively highlighted, her body obviously the product of a clean diet and daily gym visits.

And here I was, with no place to live, a mother who didn’t care about me, letting myself get fingered on my stepbrother’s desk while basically begging him to do it. I was a mess. And she wasn’t.

I dropped my shoes onto the floor and slid my feet into them.

“Did you like the clothes I chose for you?” she asked.

“Oh,” I said, realizing she was the girl who’d come to Cole’s apartment last night. What was it she’d said? Asked if she could spend the night? I imagined him fucking her, saying the exact same things he’d said to me just moments before.

“Yes,” I said. “They were fine.”

“Fine?” She laughed, a tinny little laugh that echoed through the hallway. “They were Michael Kors and Marc Jacobs and … ” She trailed off and then pursed her lips and shook her head sadly, like there was no way I could understand the importance of such expensive clothes. “How long will you be in the city?” Kalia asked.

I opened my mouth to say I was just leaving, but before I could, Cole said, “Avery’s staying. She’s going to be working here.” He came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.. “She’s going to be my second assistant.”

Kalia’s mouth dropped open, and as much as I hated Cole in that moment, I had to admit that I liked seeing her get flustered, since she’d seemed so put together and in control just a moment ago.

“Your second assistant?” she asked.

“Yes. The company is growing, and with the upcoming IPO, you’re going to be needing some help. So Avery’s going to be helping you.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Kalia said. She pasted a big fake smile on her face. Her teeth were white and straight, the kind of teeth you either bought or inherited because of perfect genes. I was willing to bet it was a combination of both. “I’ll be happy to show you the ropes.”

“If you’ll excuse us, Kalia, Avery and I were just about to finish going over her job responsibilities.”           

“Okay,” Kalia said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

She turned and walked away, obviously not used to Cole dismissing her. The sound of her stilettos on the marble hallway echoed through the office.

I tried to move past Cole, but he stepped in front of me and closed the door. “What the fuck was that?” I demanded. Why’d you tell her I was working for you?”

“Because you are,” he said. “You’ll be my second assistant.”

He said it smoothly and confidently, like he hadn’t just been fingering me on his desk a second earlier before pulling away and tossing me aside like I was some kind of toy he’d grown bored with.

“Oh, hell no, I’m not,” I said. “Are you insane?”

“Are you?” He looked at me, his eyes blazing. “You can’t go back to that hellhole, Avery. Especially not now.”

“I’m not going back there,” I said, raising my chin and daring him to contradict me. “I’ll find an apartment.”

“Oh, yeah?’ he countered. “You will? With what money?”

“I’ll use my money from my job at the drugstore.”

“Get real,” he said. “That’s not going to be enough money to support yourself, not if you don’t want to be living in the ghetto.”

“What’s wrong with the ghetto?” I asked. “And you don’t need millions to support yourself, Cole. A lot of people get by on much less, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Right. Is that what you were doing at that strip club, Avery? Getting by?” He shook his head. “No. You’re not going back to Jersey. You can’t live in that house, and I don’t trust you to be able to take care of yourself without getting into trouble.”

I laughed. “Oh, now you’re worried about me? After you left me in that house, all alone, not even a goodbye, not even a ‘hey, Avery, maybe you can come visit sometime’, not a phone call or an email or a text? Just a

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