“Please!” I plead to the ceiling in the women’s bathroom. “Help me.”

  I look at the mirror and see my own wild eyes staring back. There’s a pink to my face I’ve never seen before, and shame rips through me. When I close my eyes, all I see is Papa’s face.

  I make my way through the restroom to the other entry door that leads to the main hall outside the common room. Pushing the door open just enough to get my head out and make sure Ash and his two monsters can’t see me. When I see the coast is clear, I run.

  Run until my lungs burn.

  Run until I’m at my pickup, fumbling with the key at the ignition and turn it hard. The engine struggles, then turns over and before I pull away, I realize in my other hand, I’m still holding the check.

  I look at the crumpled piece of light blue paper and the black-inked cursive writing.

  Pay to the order of: Anastasia Snow

  Amount: One million, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

  I pray for forgiveness the entire drive home.

  I’ve disrespected my father by lying.

  I’ve been prideful in showing off on my videos.

  I’ve lusted after a man I don’t even know.

  I’ve thrilled at the possibility of taking an absurd amount of money.

  I stop at a gas station and change back into my common clothes trying to stay focused on the life that has chosen me. The life of righteousness and humility.

  By the time I pull up at the house, I’ve prayed every way I know how and a few I’ve made up.

  What remains is that throbbing between my legs and a sense that no amount of prayer will ease the devil that Ash Thompson has awoken inside of me.

  F I V E

  Ash

  “THERE HE IS,” I MUTTER under my breath as I speed my steps down the hall.

  Luck seems to be in my favor as Cameron turns, fisting his hands on his hips when he sees me walking toward him.

  After a long sleepless night, I’m pulling out all the stops to find Anastasia again after she ditched me in the college coffee shop yesterday.

  We drove this little town until the wheels practically fell off the limo. And here’s the thing: there is no Anastasia Snow. That has become very clear. I called in some favors to do some borderline illegal digging into that name, and no one with that name is my girl.

  My body is so fucking tense I could repel bullets.

  When I’m within speaking distance of Cameron, I do what I can to keep my voice steady. “I need to find her. I know her name is not Anastasia Snow. It’s important.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure, Mr. Ash Thompson. Let me just give you all the personal information on my friend so you can go track her down.” Sarcasm drips from each word, then he shifts his hips and glares at me. “Not. Gonna. Happen.”

  Despite frustration ripping through me like a drug, I respect him for not giving up information that could be dangerous for her, so I take a different route.

  “Look, I’m trying to help her. I think she has talent. Can you help me get in touch with her?” I struggle to maintain my calm.

  After I figured out she’d given me the slip yesterday, I’ve been out of my mind. When I gave up driving around and went back to the hotel, I jerked off so many times my cock is raw. That single touch of her hand was the final straw for me. I don’t know what this is, but I’m not going down without a fight.

  I’m a man of clear instincts. They’ve gotten me this far and rarely steer me wrong. She’s my one. Mine. And I won’t stop until she understands what that is going to mean for her. For us.

  “Maybe.” He narrows his eyes. “She’s not like other girls. If you just want to get with her, you can forget it. She’s already engaged or something.” He shrugs like the details are a bit sketchy and unimportant.

  For me, the world feels like it’s going to open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole.

  Engaged?

  No fucking way.

  My blood surges cold as I try to regain my composure.

  “What do you mean, engaged or something?”

  “I don’t know. Her family is different, it’s something her father has arranged—” He stops short, shaking his head and waving his hands. “You never mind all that. You said you wanted to help her with her videos and blog, not get with her, so what do you care?”

  I clear my throat. No matter what, I need to find her. Some engagement isn’t going to throw me off. I know what I know. I feel what I feel. And I’m willing to fight for what is mine.

  “I don’t want to get with her. I want to help her. I told you. Can you get in touch with her? Or tell me when she will be in class again so I can meet her?”

  Her scent haunts me even now, and my balls ache.

  He twists his lips to the side and crosses his arms. “Okay. But you better be on the up and up with her or...” His voice trails off. He’s no physical match for me in any way. “Just mind your P’s and Q’s, got it?”

  I admire his protectiveness, so I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Absolutely. Now, when will she be here again?”

  “She has class at ten am. Twenty-five minutes or whatever. But here’s the deal.” He steps forward and jabs a finger into my chest. If anyone else did that, I’d throttle them, but this kid’s heart is in the right place. “I’ll walk you over to the Harris building where her class will be, but you are going to stay hidden while I go talk to her. If she’s okay with seeing you, then I’ll come get you. If she says no, then the answer is no, and don’t even try to get your wallet out and bribe me because it won’t work.”

  “No bribes. What’s her real name?”

  “Seriously? Everything I just told you, you think I’m just going to up and tell you her name? If she wants you to know her name, she will tell you. After you show me you can follow directions.”

  His bravado is beginning to wear on me, but if it gets me to her, I’ll suck it up for a little longer. I already tried to pull some strings with the administration, but it was a no go. Describing her to the stoic tight-lipped woman behind the counter, all I got back was the chills.

  I take a deep breath, feeling the tightness in my chest. The word engaged racing around my brain like a poison. I close my eyes for a moment to clear my head, but as soon as I do my mind is filled with visions of her yesterday in that green dress. The way it showed off every brilliant contour of her innocent body.

  “You coming or what?” Cameron leads me out of the main building and across the small campus.

  Inside the Harris building, he leads me down a short hallway to a bench. “So, you wait right there. If she wants to talk, I’ll come get you. If she doesn’t, I’ll come tell you. We good?”

  “We’re good.” I stand next to the bench, because sitting is impossible, and watch him disappear around the corner, leaving me with my throat tight and my cock hard.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll through some emails. There’s a few from my assistant Olivia about the interview I did a few days ago with a reporter for a small lifestyle magazine. I knew this was coming, but we were hopeful it would fly under the radar since the magazine doesn’t have a wide distribution. Well, apparently the story broke last night on CNN, and now that small lifestyle magazine has sold out at newsstands up and down the country.

  It was supposed to be a light interview piece on what I do to relax at home, but for some reason, we drifted off onto the topic of religion. I didn’t skip a beat and made my views on the subject clear. That would be fine; I’m not heavily controversial on the subject. I mean, even in 2019 being an agnostic for lack of a better label is not always popular.

  But apparently the reporter took some of my comments out of context and added some editorial of her own that painted me in a pretty bad light. She did just enough to make sure I couldn’t sue for defamation—I already had the lawyers look into it—but beyond that, it’s gloves off.

  Even our stock took a hit, but it’s minor, and I’m not worried—it’ll be a blip on the radar. People move on. They are more greedy than ideological when investing, for the most part.

  Trawling through my emails, I answer a few messages. I’m being hounded for the meetings I’m missing, but I don’t give a shit. Some things are more important, and I can’t wait to show Anastasia—or whatever her real name is—just how important she is.

  Work has been my life up until now, but I already know it won’t be again.

  In fact, there’s a nagging worry that I won’t be able to get any work done again.

  My cock is painfully hard, and as much as I try to control it, the outline of my massive hard-on is clear on the front of my dark suit trousers.

  Looking around, I spot an empty study room across the hall. Needing relief, I step inside, lock the door, and close the shade.

  I release my erection, stroke my shaft, thinking of her as she stood yesterday in that green dress, her blue eyes wide. All it takes is the memory of how her skin felt under my fingertips, and I cum hard with a grunt, bracing my arm on the wall.

  I cover the head of my dick with my palm, feeling my sticky release fill my hand as I think of how much I want every drop inside of her.

  When I can see straight again, I clean up with my handkerchief and toss it in the trash. My cock is still hard, and I realize nothing will slake my lust but her. Never again will anything satisfy me but my sweet Anastasia. My secret treasure.

  S I X

  Selma

  BY THE TIME I GET TO school, I’m losing my mind.

  I didn’t sleep.

  Like, at all.

  And I love to sleep.

  In our community, everyone is up at five AM, every day.

  FIVE.

  A.

  M.

  Since as far back as my memory goes, unless I was sick or there was some other extenuating circumstance, we were at the morning prayer meeting by five-thirty. As the preacher and head elder in our community, living by the strict code of conduct in our little world is a driving force for Papa. It’s his purpose.

  So, to me, sleep is my candy. My guilty pleasure. Whenever I can get a nap, I’m there. Most kids my age are out partying and drinking and trying to get away with God-knows-what.

  Me?

  I’ll sneak a nap whenever I can.

  Sinner.

  Papa told me before I left this morning that Daniel and his family would be arriving in the next few days. Barring some sort of apocalyptic event, I’m going to be a married woman very soon.

  I’m knotted up inside as I make my way to class. In my mind, I see Ash’s silver-gray eyes and remember the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand.

  Not to mention the check I still have in my notebook.

  I’m three steps inside the door at school when Cameron comes rushing down the hall toward me.

  “O.M.G.” He grabs my arm like he did yesterday and drags me into an empty classroom and my throat already tight.

  “What?” My heart is already beating like a drum.

  “Okay, so he’s here.” He’s practically panting. “Again.”

  I know who he means this time. My breath catches, and I feel like my knees are going to give out.

  “Where?”

  “He wants to talk to you.” He holds up a hand. “I told him I would see what you wanted. He wanted your real name too, but I didn’t give him anything. If you want to see him, he’s waiting. If not, I’ll tell him, and he can get on down the road.”

  Cameron’s eyes are twinkling, and all I can think about is Ash and all the feelings I’ve had in the time since I met him yesterday. He’s occupied my day and night dreams since I left here yesterday.

  Men like him don’t exist in my world, and the heat rushing through me tells me I could be missing something wonderful.

  Even if it is a sin.

  “So, do you want to talk to him?” Cameron interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yes,” Anastasia blurts out the answer before Selma can stop her.

  Guilt coursing through me at the multitude of dirty thoughts I can’t seem to stop.

  “Okay, stay here. I’ll go get him.”

  The next few minutes feel like ten eternities. I fuss with the buttons of my blouse and look down at my flat black loafers. I hadn’t planned on doing any video shooting today, so I’m wearing my usual community-endorsed uniform, and it is the definition of frumpy.

  I know I’m not the kind of woman that would draw the eye of a man like Ash Thompson. I’m still not completely sure who Ash Thompson is, but I know he’s somebody.

  When I hear the doorknob click, the heat that’s been building inside of me ignites and focuses between my legs. I’m reminded of my act of rebellion this morning. I left the house without wearing panties. These feelings are wrong, I know, but I don’t care. I want whatever this is, more of it.

  When Ash comes through the door, he’s sexier than yesterday. Better looking, if that’s even possible. He’s wearing a dark suit today, red tie, white shirt...and the power he emanates is intoxicating. He looks like he owns the place, so cool and comfortable as he closes the space between us.

  “Hello.” He extends his hand, and I take it in a limp handshake. “Anastasia.” He enunciates the name slowly.

  “That’s not my real name,” I blurt out, shifting my weight back and forth. “As you know,” I add, glancing at Cameron.

  He gives me a knowing nod but says nothing, so I decide to forge ahead even as my father’s voice chastises me.

  Cameron chimes in, “I’m going to head to class. I’ll see you there.” He’s off, leaving me alone with this man that has me unraveling.

  “I’m Selma Hoffner. You met Anastasia yesterday.” I look down at my outfit, then back at Ash, raising my arms slightly at my sides. “This is Selma.”

  There’s an apology in my voice, but when I look into his face, I see Ash’s restrained smile.

  “I like them both.”

  My eyes drop and fear sweeps through me as I see something pushing out on the front of his black trousers. I know almost nothing about sex, except the basics that were taught to me by one of the community mothers as well as some things Cameron has told me. I know what an erection is, and there is no doubt that is what I’m looking at right now.

  Like blow jobs...

  And other stuff I can’t think about without turning bright red.

  Like I am right now.

  I should be so ashamed, but all I can think about is dropping to my knees and seeing that bulge up close and personal.

  Gahhhh. That’s Anastasia talking, not Selma. Selma would never think such forbidden things.

  Tearing my eyes away, I fuss with imaginary crumbs on my face and the front of my blouse. I want his touch. I want to feel his hands on me in ways I’ve never allowed myself to desire before yesterday.

  His gaze lowers to my chest, then all the way to my feet before coming back up to land on my face as he reaches over and grabs my wrist, turning my hand palm up and placing his other on top.

  “You’ve got something special, Selma. That check yesterday? That could be just the beginning. Anastasia Snow could be a brand. The next big thing. You’re young, and you have a natural talent. But it’s not just that, it’s also your personality. Anastasia could be a rising star. Would you like that?”

  Pride fills me, and guilt comes galloping quickly behind.

  I want to jump up and down and scream, ‘Yes! What do we do? Let’s make this happen!’

  That’s what Anastasia would do. In a heartbeat, she would throw herself into this — all of it. Everything Ash is offering.

  But not Selma. Selma hears Papa’s voice and knows there is no way he would allow her to pursue this dream.

  Oh, but Ash’s touch is making me dizzy. His enormous hands engulf mine, and all I can hear is my heart thudding like a bass drum, so loud I’m sure he must be able to hear it.

  “I don’t know...” I answer.

  “Really? You don’t know? Why are you doing all this then? I’ve watched every video, read every recipe, read all your blog posts. When you interact with your followers, your excitement is contagious. You swirl so much flavor into the dry words it makes my mouth water. Why would you not want more of that? I can make it happen.”

  I shrug. There’s no way I can explain how different my life is from his.

  Withdrawing my hand, I see disappointment on his face.

  I look up to see it’s nearly ten am. “I better get to class.”

  The throbbing between my legs begs me to stay, but I move to sidestep around him. Before I get by, he leans down, a strong hand slipping behind my neck.

  “I can make so many things happen.” His deep words send a shiver through me, and there’s a tingling on each of my nipples that makes me feel ashamed but exhilarated. When I hear him breathe deep, his face so close to my ear I can feel the air move, my underwear is instantly damp and thoughts of wickedness crash around inside of me.

  When I get to the door and grip the handle, Ash’s voice comes from behind.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Selma. I’ll be waiting when you are done with class. Just come and talk with me, that’s all I ask. Come and talk. I’ll take you to dinner. I have a suite where we could order room service, and I can tell you all my ideas and show you about my companies and me. This is life changing. Tell me you’ll hear me out.”

  My pulse rate doubles at the word ‘hotel.’ Most people wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve never been to a hotel. That’s where the sinning happens. Whenever we traveled away from home, we always stayed with other families, never in a hotel.

  There are so many things I’ve never done. So many things I want to do.

  Ash can help make them happen.

  Before I can second guess myself, still facing the door, I blurt out the answer that’s on the tip of my tongue. “Okay. I’ll come and talk. Be outside the main door. I’ll meet you when class is out.”

  I’m letting Anastasia take control.

  As I pull open the door and step outside, I hear his low voice.

  “Thank God.”

  Yes, Ash Thompson, thank God. That’s what Papa would say. As I walk to class, I see Cameron emerge from the lecture hall behind a group of our other classmates.