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PROLOGUE
Marcus
Four years ago
What I’m doing—have been doing for the past year now—is wrong. So wrong.
No matter how I twist and turn it in my head, it’s still wrong.
Stalking my only daughter’s best friend—wanting her the way I do—isn’t right.
I’m a thirty-seven-year-old psychiatrist. She just turned eighteen a few months ago.
She’s Rylan’s best friend.
I should know better. Stop making excuses for myself.
There’s no justification for what I’m doing.
Doesn’t matter that Leighton is my little voyeur. That she sneaks up to my room when she thinks I’m sleeping or watching TV.
I’m still every bit of an immoral, twisted man.
What the fuck am I doing, taking advantage of her friendship with Rylan the way I do?
Watching over her, her best friend, and their guy friend in the pool of my backyard from my window on the second floor shouldn’t be wrong.
Except it is. Because I only have eyes for Leighton Irvine.
What’s worse, spying on her from afar is nothing. Nothing compared to what I’ve done to Leighton over the past few months since her eighteenth birthday.
Other than touching her, I do vile, deplorable things to her while she sleeps. In my head.
I touch myself while she watches, pretending I have no idea she’s there.
But it’s under control. I won’t go to her. Won’t flirt or ask her out.
Her age doesn’t matter.
Rylan matters. In more ways than one.
Fuck, who am I fooling? No one.
The beast in me wants Leighton. Craves her.
It’s only a matter of time until I snap. It doesn’t help that she’s been sleeping over in Rylan’s room more during their senior year.
I’m so close to snapping.
I can’t. I have to contain the situation. My carnal desires and the way I want to pull at her pink hair until she cries out my name have no place here.
Good thing I managed to convince the girls to attend a college in Texas. Far, far from my home in Santa Barbara.
Leighton shouldn’t be here in California.
Being around me isn’t safe for her.
Just a few more months. A few more months and you’ll be safe.
