Emma

A frown crosses my face, shaking my head slowly as though I had  just stumbled upon a secret. "So you'll throw your child out?" I bit out in a harsh tone.

She matches my glare with a defiant look in her eyes. "Yes, not when you're acting out of control," she snaps at me.

"Is that it?" I ask. "Or there's more?"

Her eyes flash in rage. "Don't get on my nerves. You'll do exactly as I say or-

I walk out on her, listening to her feels exhausting.

"Emma," her voice rings out. "Don't you dare walk out on me!"

I ignore her tantrums, walking down the hallway where my room is located. I wrap my fingers around the knob and push it open.

Inside, I slam the door shut. My mother still thinks I am a baby, one she could control. It's exhausting and frustrating listening to her endless complaints.

I climb my bed, drawing the covers to my chest. 

I have trouble sleeping easily, my night is already in ruins. Different thoughts run through my mind.

What is Knox doing now? Did he hear the heated  exchange of words between my mother and I ?

He never involves himself in anything that has to do with my mother and I. 

I just want him to give me his attention, not as his stepdaughter but something more intimate.

The thought of Knox fades, my eyelids become heavy and in no time, I close my eyes to sleep.

The golden rays of sunlight streams through the window, into my room. I cracked my eyes open, and quickly,  my hand shot up to my face, shielding my eyes from the sunlight.

After a while, I sit up on my bed and yawn, stretching.

I feel like going back to sleep, it's Saturday, and I have no work today. But I decided against it, dragging myself out of bed.

I walk to the bathroom, and then I pull the nightie over my head, taking it off.  Holding the nightie in my hand, I ran my fingers through it.

I feel a stab of pain, everything  did not go as planned. And my mother is acting insecure around me, I really don't care about what she thinks.

My target is to get Knox, make him have sex with me. I feel totally clueless on what to do as I have run out of ideas.

I drop the nightie in a laundry basket and step into the shower stall, I turn on the shower. 

A cold blast of water burst out from the shower head. The water pours on my head, soaking my hair. 

I grab a shower gel, and squeeze the bottle. The cool flora shower gel slid into my palm.

I rub my hands together, working up a light foam. And slowly, my palm glides over my skin. Cold streams of water washes the foam off.

Wrapping a white towel around my body, I step out of the bathroom, and into my room.

Suddenly, a feeling of deja Vu washes over me. Images from my dream play out in my head.

The only thing missing is Knox.

I slap my temple as I groan in frustration. I need to snap out of it, and get hold of myself.  

I wish it was as easy as that. That man doesn't know what he is doing to me. I can't let him slip through my grasp, not after what he has made me go through.

Each rejection from Knox, sends my body through another endless torture of  being deprived from satisfying my wanton desire.

My closet was slightly open, and so I dragged it wide open, trying to get a dress to wear.

My mother's warning echoes in my head. My forehead creases into a tight frown. Well,for now, I don't think it will be wise to go against her instructions.

I'm not obeying her because I want to but because if she throws me out,I won't get another chance to be with Knox.

I settled for a plain green dress, nothing attractive about it. The length stops a few inches below my knees. The round neckline won't expose anything. 

As I stood before the mirror, my reflection gazed back at me. I can't even recognize myself.

The green dress makes me look so silly, it clings awkwardly on my body.

I pack my hair in a tight ponytail, taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I roll my eyes. Maybe I should wear a nun's habit when I'm at home.

The thought of it makes me smile as I imagine myself in a habit. That would be utterly amusing.

Leaving my room, I close the door behind me. I clutch my stomach as it growls. I will have to eat out. 

My mother's culinary skill is nothing to write home about. I grew up surviving on take outs from restaurants. Good thing she has the money to spare.

And I'm equally not doing so great in cooking. 

Knox hired a chef but she resigned last week. 

My stomach growls again, louder this time. I hurry towards the kitchen to grab the apples in the refrigerator.

It will serve for the time being until I drive to a restaurant for breakfast.

Just as I make it close to the dining room, my nostrils catch the delicious aroma of food.

Wow. Did Knox hire another chef? I have to find out. In quick steps, I rush towards the dining room.

The scene before me makes me freeze. Knox was serving sizzling pancakes from a pan into the dishes on the table.

Did he just make breakfast? 

He notices my presence and then looks up. He gawks at my ridiculous dress before his eyes lit up.

"Emma, you can join me for breakfast," he says. "Gina went out."

I hesitate, he appears to be calm unlike last night when he chased me out of his room in anger.

I swallow hard but he beckons me, smiling. I give in to his invitation and join him at the table.

I have to forget my failed attempt last night and focus on the delicious food in front of me.

It feels suffocating eating breakfast with him, I could barely look him in the eyes. I take a bite from the pancake, it tastes so good.

In a few minutes, I was done with breakfast. I grab the glass of juice, taking a sip. "Thanks for breakfast," I say. 

Our gaze locks briefly before I drag my eyes away.

He drops his fork, the sound echoing between us.

Leaning back in his chair, he studies me for a long, tense moment. "Emma," he murmurs, a dangerous calm in his tone. "What do you want from me?"

Emma

My head jerks up. His question strikes me like a slap, I never saw it coming. My thoughts scrambled for balance.

"What do you want from me?" Knox repeats the question. His gray eyes pin on my face.

The atmosphere turns to a tight coil of tension, and the air feels heavy with silence.

I try to drag the words out of my mouth but my tongue glues to the roof of my mouth. 

The awkward silence seems to stretch for eternity. The calm in his eyes shifts into steel. 

He leans forward, every edge of control slips from his features. "I want to set things straight between us," his voice had a tight tone.

I don't even realize when I rise to my feet, lean across the table, and press a wet, desperate kiss against his lips.

His body goes stiff, as I try to deepen the kiss,his breath mingles with mine. His hand reaches out to my face, cupping it delicately.

I take his action as an indication to continue, trying to kiss him further, he breaks from the kiss, his hands drop to my shoulder, as he pushes me back gently.

I draw back, sitting down. The sting of rejection is harder than before. I grit my teeth hard, feeling a spark of fury. My chest keeps rising and falling. 

"Fine," I snapped. "I want you Knox. Can't you see it?"

"Nothing can exist between us," he says. "Get a grip on yourself Emma. For heaven sake, I am your stepfather."

His words, like a punch to my guts. I need him. 

Just like a junkie craving a fix, I need Knox desperately, recklessly, and completely. 

"I don't mean anything," I press hard. "We are not even related." I stretch my arm, reaching for his hand across the table, squeezing it gently. 

He snatch his hand away from mine. "We can't do this."

I gaze at him for a while, and then I bend my head,my face burning in shame. I have never feel so humiliated.

My eyes brims with tear, and then it stream down my face. 

"Emma, no. Come on, stop crying," he moves with speed and he was already by my side, taking a seat close to me.

He takes my hand softly in his, tears blurs my vision, my head remain bent as I mourned my loss.

When I finally look up, a flood if tears pours from my eyes. "I get it. I am not good enough for you," my voice trembled, thick with tears.

"That's not true," he counters, his voice gentle. He lifts my chin gently with his fingers. "Look at me."

I obey the command of his voice, raising my head to look at him but tears blurs my eyes, leaving me with a hazy outline of his face.

I feel his calloused fingers trail to my eyes, wiping my tears.

"Hush," he murmurs the word, barely a breath. "Don't cry." His voice is soft and velvety as it slides through my skin, Sending tingles of desire coursing through me. 

It awakens something I can't control. My blurry vision clears, he drop his fingers from my face after wiping my tears.

I can already imagine those long, elegant slender finger of his sliding into the delicate fokds of my  pussy, and my cum coating his fingers.

And his lips which looks dangerously tempting, parting for his tongue to lick running around my clit.

"Emma."

"You look pale. Emma are you okay?" Zhe taps me gently.

The sound of his voice pierced through my fantasy, I jerk in response. "Uhm, I'm fine," I murmur. "Just tired." 

"Oh, I thought as much," he says. He stands in his feet. "Hold on, let me do the dishes, I will be right back."

I watch him clear the table, something my mother never does. I'm always left with the duty of doing that whenever we sit together to eat as a family.

Family indeed.

The sound of water running in the sink, drifts from the kitchen. Without wasting much time, he was out.

His long strides brings him standing before me. He holds out his hand, and I place mine in his palm.

His hand wraps over mine as he drags me to my feet. I follow his steady steps, as we head for the spacious living room.

We sit on a couch, and I turn fully facing him. His skin brushing mine for a fleeting moment before he shifts, putting a small space between us.

I feel a sharp ache, as if he is intentionally distancing himself from me. 

"Emma I -

"Knox, I'm sorry for my actions," I blurted out, interrupting him from speaking.

His gaze softens into a gleam of understanding. "I'm not here to scold you."

He must really think worse about me. And I don't want that. My eyes glistens in tears, threatening to flow.

He draw closer, his arms encircling my shoulder. "Stop crying," he consols me. "It's okay, I have nothing against you."

I nod my head, sniffing back tears. His lips breaks into a heart stopping smile, and I respond, smiling back at him.

"You're a young woman, it's normal to have feeling for men. Nothing is wrong with it."

"Yes. I shouldn't have made those advances on you," I whisper, my voice has a tinge of regret. I laugh awkwardly. "What was I thinking? You must think I'm a horrible person."

He takes his arms from my shoulder, holding my hands reassuringly. "No. You're a young woman with potentials. I've seen how you pour out your heart to tasks given to you at the company."

My eyes lit up at the compliment. "Thank you."

"It's just that you need to understand boundaries and stick to it," his cautions in a low controlled voice.

"I promise, I will never throw myself at you." My voice trembled at the edges.

He nods at me in acceptance. "Apologies accepted, as we forge a new beginning with mutual understanding."

We both burst into laughter. The tension in the atmosphere slips away, lightning the mood.

Suddenly, his ringtone disrupted the flow. He digs into his pocket, bringing out his cell phone. 

"Hello," he answered the phone.

I couldn't make out what the caller was saying but the smile on his face vanish.

He turns to me, his gaze burns into me and I swallow hard. I bite my lips nervously.

When he drops the phone, the air cracks in animosity.

"Emma, did you submit the client acquisition report?" His voice carried a firm edge, laced with an authority that tightens my stomach.

My eyes widens in panic. "T..the..report," I stuttered. Now I remember. Damn it! I feel like slapping myself. I had totally forgotten about it until now. "I'm so sorry."

His glare was sharp with disappointment. "You forgot?" He snaps in rage. "Do you know what your incompetence has caused us?"