The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel by Megan D. Martin

that’s what I wanted to be—normal.
    “You loved me too.” He nodded his head like he was certain of it. “You still love me.”
    “You hurt me.” I don’t know why I bothered. He knew what he had done. At the end. After that summer when Rhett left to go back to school, after I’d propositioned Rhett, begging him to have sex with me. Somehow Taylor had found out and he was angry and jealous. So fucking jealous. He hadn’t touched me at all while Rhett was in town. He didn’t want his son to know about us. And once Rhett was gone, that’s when things had changed. Drastically, horribly. That led to frequent trips to the hospital and lots of money being doled out to keep mouths shut.
    “You were a bad girl.” He rubbed his hand up and down my face and I jerked away trying to move back from him, but the tub stopped my movement. “What kind of drug is it Faye? Cocaine?”
    I jerked my gaze up at him. “How did you know?”
    He brushed his finger through the blood that had tracked its way down my chest and brought the crimson covered digit to his lips. I wanted to look away, to be horrified, but I found myself riveted to the action.
    He reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out something that made heart beat quadruple. Cocaine. A tiny clear baggie held the heavenly substance.
    “Is that really what I think it is?”
    He wiggled his eyebrows. “Do you think it’s cocaine? Because that’s what it is.” My eyes stayed glued to the little package. “It’s Colombian, uncut coke. The best you can get.”
    “What? How did you get ahold of something like that?” Blood tracked into my mouth as I spoke, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to me was dangling inches away from my nose.
    A wicked smile formed on Taylor’s face. “You don’t know much about your daddy, do you, Faye baby?”
    “I want it,” I said immediately, cutting to the chase. My body throbbed, ached desperately needing the high to feel better.
    “It’s all yours.”
    My mouth fell open in shock and jubilation and I reached forward, anxious to snatch it from his hand, but he jerked it away before I could touch it.
    “Ah, ah, ah.” He shook his head. “I want something from you, Faye baby.”
    And I was back there again in that pink little bed. But this time I wasn’t full of love for the man who loomed over me. I was full of hate, of broken memories and shattered dreams. I was a whore who needed her fix. I had left this house to get away from him. I had turned to faceless men and drugs to try and wash his memory from my mind and body and yet here I was again. Every memory still intact, just as lost, maybe even more so than the day I left.
    “Okay.” I heard the word come from my lips as if someone else had said it. Somewhere in my head I screamed at myself. I begged myself not to do this. Not again. Not him. Never. Never. Never. But the me on the outside didn’t listen. Instead I took Taylor’s hand with anticipation, ready try the pure cocaine, ready for his dick to be inside me.
    “That’s my girl.” He pulled me toward the mirror making me face it so I could watch as he unzipped my skirt and slid it down my waist until gravity took over and it slithered to the floor.
    He sucked in a breath at the sight of my bare ass. “No panties, baby?” He smacked a big hand against one cheek. “God I’ve missed you.”
    I heard his own zipper. The sound deafening in the small space. I expected him to plunge in, to shove into me, but he didn’t. Instead he stepped to my right and shook some of the powder on the counter in a straight line. My mouth watered, my nose itched and I reached up and rubbed it, smearing more blood. Only my left nostril was bleeding. I could still snort with my right.
    “You don’t get it until I say so. Understand?” His voice was authoritative. A sound that should have haunted me, but it didn’t. I pushed everything away and focused on the moment. On the bliss I would soon feel.