Page 15 of Dark Desires

When I look down at the test on the counter, the floor drops out from under me.

This can’t be real. It can’t be happening.

I’m pregnant—with the child of a man whose last name I don’t even know.

A man who branded me with his touch, then vanished like smoke.

A ghost I’ll likely never see again.

I think back to that night. We were so hot and heavy that contraception wasn’t even an afterthought.

Reckless. Blind. Dangerous. A single night that rewrote my entire life.

And then the image hits me: Dad seeing my stomach swell, his eyes narrowing, demanding answers I can’t give.

The shame. The fury. The ruin.

It’s enough to make me sick all over again.

I hop into the shower, hoping the steam might help me think—or better yet, make me disappear.

No such luck. Instead, I’m haunted by flashbacks of Alexei—his laugh, his hands, that night.

As the water pelts down on me, I feel his touch again: his hands gripping my hips, dragging me closer, his lips finding that sweet spot on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes, heavy with desire, locking on mine like I was the only thing in his world. His movements against me so sure, so right, my heart pounds just remembering.

I think about the way he took me from behind, driving into me without mercy.

My hand slides down my belly to between my thighs. Maybe a little release would help distract me, if only for a while.

Leaning against the cold tiles, I shut my eyes, letting the fantasy take over. There’s Alexei, kissing my body, worshiping every curve like he’s trying to memorize me.

I imagine him parting my thighs, the hunger in his eyes as he takes in the sight of me. He licks his lips before going down, devouring me with his tongue.

The steam thickens. I moan, touching myself, chasing the fantasy of him consuming me.

Then I stop. With a frustrated groan, I drop my hand.

No amount of hot water can wash away the truth: I’m pregnant. That little detail makes it impossible to get lost in any fantasy, no matter how filthy.

I step out of the shower and dry off, shoving the test and box deep into the trash where no one can see them.

Pulling on jeans and an oversized sweater, reality sinks in. I’m terrified.

I step out of my room for breakfast, though food is the last thing I want. I’m so lost in my head I nearly run smack into Stephania in the hallway.

“Hey, morning,” she chirps, polished as ever in designer jeans and perfect hair.

Morning, cuz. What’s got you so stressed out?”

She purses her lips. “You don’t remember? Today’s the day I meet the guy your father wants me to marry.”

Realization crashes over me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my baby-mama drama I forgot about my cousin’s big day.

“Oh my God,” I say. “That’s this morning?”

“Brunch,” she says. “Downtown. Heavily chaperoned, thankfully. But still.”

I sigh, leaning back against the wall.