“Yes, I think you tried to clarify that when you said your boyfriend broke up with you. Clever lie.” He smirked and reached out for her, as if none of that was of any concern. His fingers wrapped around her waist, and he drew her to him.

“Don’t touch me.” She wrenched out of his grasp and crossed her arms. She wobbled on her feet and then steadied herself on the bench again. “You lost any right you had to touch me.”

“Then, why haven’t you told anyone?” he asked. He cocked his head to the side to examine her.

“I…” She closed her mouth. Nothing she could say would justify why she hadn’t told Lydia. She didn’t think Lydia would believe her. She didn’t want to ruin the vacation. She worried it would ruin everything. Her heart was shattering into a million pieces, and she wasn’t prepared for it to be really over.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How long have you known that Lydia and I are related?” she blurted out.

“Since you told me that Linh Hamilton was your mother,” he answered easily. “I hadn’t really considered the possibility until then.”

“That was so…long ago,” she stammered.

“Two weeks,” he offered.

“And you didn’t think that you should maybe fucking tell someone about it?” she asked, her anger heating again like a flame to a fuse. “God, you’re just a cheating bastard!”

“Trihn, you’re asking all the wrong questions.”

“Are you insane?” she asked. The adrenaline from this conversation was burning off the alcohol in her system, and she stood a little straighter. “Is that a better question?”

“I’m not. I just fell for two incredible women for two very different reasons.”

He slowly started walking closer to her. She felt like she had lead in her feet because, even as he approached her, she didn’t move away. She wasn’t sure if she even could at that point.

He stopped before her with just inches between them and brushed a stray strand of hair off her face. “How could I resist you after that first introduction?”

Trihn remembered that fateful day when she had met Preston. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from him, and he was the first person she had really wanted to pursue. He had given her the confidence to push for a relationship, and then he had pulled the rug out from beneath her.

As her mind went back to that day, standing on Lydia’s steps, she gasped. “You were visiting Lydia! That’s why you were there that day!” she accused.

He smirked, as if knowing all the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place.

“The only reason I know you is because of Lydia.” She shook her head in disbelief. Pure anger shot through her emerald-green eyes. “How could you do this, Preston? You could have let it be that day, but you pursued me. You showed up at the studio. You took me to the ballet. You were the one who bribed someone, so we could go backstage and fool around. You were the one who fucked me at your place, at the studio after-hours, at—”

“I know what we did.”

“And you’ve been sleeping with her,” Trihn accused.

“Trihn…”

But she wouldn’t listen to what he had to say. Preston’s fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place, and they weren’t gentle. She could tell just by that action that he wanted her.

And she wanted him. He was supposed to be special…to be hers. Trihn had waited. Fuck, she had wanted it to feel right. And, of course, it had felt right with Preston, who belonged to someone else. And not just anyone else…to Lydia.

“I hate you,” she spat.

His smile grew wider. “But I thought you loved me.”

Her mouth dropped open. Without thinking, she pulled her hand back and smacked him as hard as she could across the face. His head whipped to the side. There was a moment of silence after the slap rang through the air where Preston looked off to the side and fumed. Then, he turned to look at her again.

Her chest was heaving. She couldn’t believe she had done that. She had never slapped anyone before. She had never been violent.

His eyes were shining bright, and whatever ounce of control he had held on to was shattered in that look. His mouth crashed down on hers. Even if she had wanted to stop him, she wouldn’t have been able to. The white gloves were off.

Soon, they were in a frenzy, tearing at each other’s clothes, desperate for the feel of skin on skin, as the tension cracked like lightning between them.

His pants fell around his ankles. Her thong was tossed to the side, and then he shoved her short green dress up around her hips. She bit down on his lip as he manhandled her into place. She ran her fingers through the hair she had been daydreaming about and then tugged to the point of pain. He grunted but didn’t stop. He just pushed her backward onto the bench she had just been lying on.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” he growled before covering her body.

He spread her legs open before him, and then he reached behind her, roughly grabbed her ass, and positioned himself in front of her.

“I hate you,” she barked out.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said as he shoved inside her.

She cried out, and he just covered her mouth with his to muffle the sound of her screams, but it hardly masked the sound of their bodies slapping together.

And he was as rough as he’d promised to be. Pinioning her arms above her head, he savagely thrust into her. Their conflicting emotions fueled their passion. She loved him, and she hated him. She wanted him to fuck her senseless. She wanted him and despised him. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to…and she didn’t. She just wanted him.

“I want to give it to you deeper,” he told her.

She didn’t resist as he pulled out in one quick motion, gripped her hips, and flipped her over, so she was on all fours in front of him.

“That’s better,” he said, smacking her ass hard with his open palm.

She shot forward as pain blossomed on the spot. He dug into her hips, bringing her back toward him, and then reentered her.

As he started pumping again, his hand twisted around her long mane of hair and tugged until her head was looking upward. Then, he buried himself inside of her. She squirmed against him. Even in her addled brain, it was borderline uncomfortable. He was hitting so deep, but the pain and pleasure mingled when he started moving again. He drew all the way out and then slammed back into her.

After a few agonizingly slow repetitions, she thought she was going to combust. He didn’t seem too far off. Their bodies moved in time. She pushed back into him as he forced his way in over and over again.

Their breathing was labored, and then she felt it. Everything happened at once. He started coming, and her body responded with her own orgasm. She shuddered, and her hands gave out beneath her. He released her hair and was holding on to her hips as he finished.

After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Preston slid out of her and started to right himself. “That was…” he said, trailing off.

“Amazing?” she ventured, flipping over.

“Yeah. Amazing.”

Trihn slid her dress back down her hips and stood. She wished that she could blame what had happened on the alcohol she had consumed today, but she knew it had nothing to do with the reality of the situation. While she had been tipsy, she had been coherent and would have gone through with it sober.

She knew what she had done and how wrong it was. And with every look at Preston…she hated him a little bit more for it.

“Good, because that’s the last time you’ll ever get that again,” she said.

She walked back toward her house, leaving him all alone, without a backward glance. She knew she would torture herself later, but for now, she just needed to hold her head high and get out of there.

One day, that bastard would realize what he was missing.