Chapter 1
Millie's POV.
“His eyes follow the trail of her body, like a man trying to study her curves without touching.”
Those lines from the romance book we discussed at the bookclub earlier today lingered in my mind as I walked down the pedestrian path.
The only reason it wouldn't leave my mind was because I could relate to it. After all, I was a diehard fan of a celebrity model who didn't even know about my existence.
I wondered what he'd think of me if he ever found out that I have a secret gallery curated just to worship his body–which I now recognized to be a muscular sleeper build.
As the afternoon breeze washed against my skin, blowing my red hair in the air, my mind swirled with multiple thoughts of how I could bump into my celebrity crush.
As stupid as it sounded, the delusional scenarios kept me walking with a grin. It became easier to ignore the honking of cars, the rustling of tree leaves and the unending chirping of birds.
With a few more steps, I arrived in front of tall silver rods that were joined together to form a wide gate in front of a mansion.
The gateman arrived almost immediately, opening the smaller part of the gate, letting me inside a wide compound with rows of cars on the left, a water fountain at the center and green scenery on the right.
Sometimes, I found it hard to believe that this luxurious mansion was my home even though I'd lived here for most of my childhood.
I rounded the fountain, the gushing of water sprinkling on my face in a way that made me beam. Honestly, my mood has been at its peak all morning, and I didn't understand why.
When I got to the house entrance, I froze at the scene I met inside.
There were so many gift boxes around, and dad clad in a wine tuxedo was pacing up and down, frowning slightly as he yelled into the phone.
“Find that exact jewelry, have the designer make one, figure it out or I'll fire you!” His voice boomed through the wide sitting room, making my brows furrow.
I crossed my arms, pressing my kindle against my chest, and narrowing my gaze at my father. The only time he got so many gifts was when we had to give charity, he got new items for the house or…he had to impress someone.
And I sincerely prayed that it wasn't the last sentence even though a part of me nudged at it.
“What's the occasion, dad?” I asked, and he dropped the phone from his ears, slipping it into his pocket.
He grinned, walking towards me, “Nothing much honey. We're visiting my soon-to-be wife and your soon-to-be stepmother.”
My heart stopped for a second, my jaws clenching.
“Dad.. we'd talked about this. I told you it wasn't necessary to get married. Are you really going to forget mom like that?” I questioned.
But the real words in my heart were…did he really want some strange woman to ruin our relationship? I've heard one too many stories about how stepmothers break families apart.
After we lost my mom to diabetes, my dad automatically became my only family. I was not ready to give him up for anything, or anyone.
“Dear, it's been four years since your mother died. I know you spend a lot of time with me so I won't feel lonely, but I need my own person.” Dad’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, making bile rise in my throat.
My cheeks burned with frustration, I wanted to tell him how that hurt to hear, because I thought I was his own person but I kept quiet, darting my head to the gift boxes around.
“Why do we need so many gifts?”
“Oh. It's just a token of–”
“A token of appreciation for agreeing to get married to you? Dad, come on.” I cut in before he finished, feeling frustrated that he was already spending extravagantly.
I wondered what would happen after the wedding.
Dad sighed, “Honey, you have no idea what she means to me. I promise when you meet her, you'll love her too.”
I shook my head, “I'm not going with you.”
“Yes you are.”
“I said I won't.” I insisted.
“Then I'll cut your allowance short,” Dad fired back, making me stomp my feet.
“Ugh! Sometimes you annoy me so much!” I yelled, brushing past him, scrambling up the stairs.
I didn't stop walking fast until I was in my room, and I was so annoyed that I didn't even shut the door.
I threw my kindle on my bed, screaming my heart out as no other way of crashing out came to mind.
“Calm down Millie, you've got this.” My inner voice said, and I repeated outwardly, trying to calm my raging body.
If Dad insisted on getting married, then I'd just find a way to sabotage his wedding!
The thought of that made my lips curl into a smile and I threw myself onto my bouncy, soft bed.
My eyes caught a glimpse of my pink laptop and I flipped it open, looking to forget about the horrible news of my dad's marriage and the first thing I saw was a picture of my hot celebrity crush.
He was sitting on a beach chair clad in white shorts, while his upper body glistened like he was a human gold under the rays of sunlight.
His icy blue eyes bored into mine like he could see how much I wanted him and the way his wet black hair fell over his face…. Christ! It was so alluring.
If looks could get one pregnant, I'd be carrying his twins by now. My crotch twitched with heat and I laid on my back, trying to ignore the feeling.
But as I scrolled through more pictures of him, the more my core throbbed, literally starting a fanclub for him with the pom poms and all.
I slid a hand under my stomach, settling my fingers at my crotch while playing a video of him advertising gym equipment.
Two of my fingers slid down either side of my folds, making me moan softly.
And as I watched him exercise with his lips flashing me a smile, I flickered my finger against my clit, clenching my thighs against my folds to deepen the feel of the touch.
“Fuck, Ralph,” I gasped, closing my eyes to focus my attention on my finger’s movements.
My dry folds slowly became soaked with my juice and I began making circles down there, spreading my juice and moaning softly.
“Knock knock knock.”
The sound on my door disrupted my moment, I quickly slipped my hands out of my pants.
Shit.
I forgot to close the door!
