14
Jessie
The first time I’d taken control of Dad’s plane, my palms hadn’t sweated, but flying out to see the man I was determined to hate, had my forehead and between my breasts beaded with moisture.
A little over a half hour of pure t*****e on my libido as my brain fought my body’s wants.
Drop off his s**t and get the hell outta there.
My heart raced when his cabin came into view, and I flew in low over the river straight toward his home as though I wished fate intended us to crash into one another once more. A sense of impending tragedy shivered down my spine, raising the hairs on my arms, and I lifted away from the river, buzzed his clearing, and caught sight of him at the brush’s edge—shirtless and covered in blood.
“Oh, God.” My hands shook, concern over the amount of red smear
