LUST CHRONICLES: A Steamy Collection Of Sinful Desires

Victoria’s POV I slammed the door so hard behind me that the sound rattled in my bones. The cold night air hit me like a slap, but I welcomed it. Anything was better than the suffocating heat of his apartment. His words were still clawing at me. They were sharp, cruel, and deliberate. I kept walking, not caring that the drizzle had turned into rain. My hair clung to my face, and my coat was useless against the chill, but I couldn’t go home—not yet. My feet carried me without thinking, past the bus stop, past the empty diner, right to a building I knew too well. Jeremy’s. I hesitated in front of his door. He was my boyfriend’s cousin, or would I say my ex’s cousin, since he broke up with me a few minutes ago. I knew he was off-limits, and a dangerous territory. But Jeremy had always been… safe, gentle, and protective in a quiet, unspoken way. And right now, I need to be safe. With my school dad. I see him as one because of the age gap. I knocked before I could chicken out. The door swung open, and there he was, tall, broad-shouldered, wearing sweatpants and a black T-shirt, his hair a little messy. His eyes widened when he saw me. “Victoria?” His voice was warm, but concerned. “What happened to you? You’re soaked.” I tried for a smile, but failed. “Can I come in?” “Of course.” He stepped aside immediately, closing the door behind me. The warmth of his apartment wrapped around me, smelling faintly of coffee and cedarwood. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He guided me toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll get you a blanket.” I sank into the cushions, my fingers trembling. When he returned, he draped a thick gray throw over my shoulders and crouched in front of me. Jeremy’s gaze searched mine, steady but gentle. “You want to tell me what happened?” My lips parted, but the words felt like glass in my throat. I swallowed hard. “Ethan… he—” My voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying before it could escape. His Jaw clenched and his facial expression changed to a little disappointment and anger. “What did he do this time?” “He broke up with me…” I said with teary eyes. “He said I was a burden. That I… didn’t know how to keep a man happy.” Jeremy’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. “For real? He actually said that to you?” I nodded, my chest tight. “Yes, he said I don’t… I don’t…” The words stumbled out, shaky and broken. My voice faltered again, shame creeping in, wrapping around me like ice. Jeremy leaned forward, brows furrowed. “You don't, what?” “He said I don’t get wet easily, and it’s hard for him to have s*x with me… and—” My voice dissolved into a sob as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “And what?” Jeremy prompted, his voice lower now, edged with something darker. “He went back to his ex?” I blinked at him, stunned. “How did you…?” His jaw ticked, his expression unreadable. “I had a feeling he would.” The betrayal hit me twice, once from Ethan, now from Jeremy’s quiet knowing. “And you didn’t tell me? Why would you keep that from me?” My voice broke on the last word, the tears falling faster. “I told you to let him go. I told you he didn’t deserve you,” Jeremy said, his tone firm but not unkind. “But that’s not enough reason for me to just walk away,” I shot back, my voice trembling. He held my gaze, his own steady as stone. “Well… now you know.” I stared down at my hands, his knuckles white against the blanket. “How could he? After everything we went through together?” My voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief and heartbreak. Jeremy’s jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscle twitch. His eyes softened, but his voice stayed low and certain. “He’s an idiot.” I gave a shaky laugh. “Guess idiocy runs in the family.” “Hey,” he said firmly, his gaze locking on mine. “Don’t lump me in with him. I’m nothing like Ethan, and you know it.” I nodded, eyes burning. “Good girl, now stop crying. Tea?” he offered, softening his tone. “Yes, please.” He stood, moving to the kitchen. I listened to the quiet sounds, mugs clinking, kettle hissing. Something about the domestic normalcy almost broke me. When he came back, he handed me a steaming cup. “Chamomile. You look like you need to sleep.” “Thanks.” I sipped, letting the heat slide down my throat. We talked in fragments. I told him about the fight, about Ethan’s final, cutting words. Jeremy mostly listened, only breaking in to call him a “self-centered asshole” once or twice. By the time my tea was gone, my eyelids felt heavy. I hesitated before speaking. “Jeremy… do you mind if I crash here tonight? Just… until morning. I don’t want to go home right now.” He studied me for a moment. “Of course. You can take my bed.” I shook my head. “No, I’ll take the couch.” “Vic.” His tone left no room for argument. “Don’t argue, You’re sleeping in my bed and that’s final.” I smiled faintly. “Fine. But only because I’m too tired to fight you.” He smirked. “Thought so.” The bedroom was warm, dimly lit by the glow from the streetlamp outside. I peeled off my damp jacket, curled up under the thick quilt, and let exhaustion take me. At some point in the night, I shifted in my sleep. My dreams blurred into something strange, heavy. Warmth spread over me, slow, deliberate warmth. It took a moment to realize it wasn’t a dream. There was a hand on my thigh. It wasn’t resting. It was moving with slow strokes, and inching higher. My breath caught, and my body went still under the quilt. The fingers tightened, and my pulse pounded in my ears. The urge to call his name sat heavy on my tongue, but it only echoed in my thoughts, Jeremy…