This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.

Seravyn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Seravyn has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks, and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

Foreword

A Note from the Author

This is Ivan’s story. It runs parallel to Don’t Tell Your Brother, covering the same timeline from his perspective.

You don’t need to have read the main story to understand this one. But if you haven’t, the full picture is waiting for you.

— Seravyn

Content Warning

Content Note

This book contains explicit sexual content, coercion, manipulation, and themes of dubious consent. It is intended for adult readers only.

Contains: Rape/Non-Con elements, sexual coercion, manipulation, somnophilia, and obsessive/dark themes.

If any of these elements are triggering for you, please take care of yourself and skip this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters are adults.

Ivans Night Out

chapter-seperator

Two Years

I stood in front of the mirror and fixed my collar twice. The shirt was fine. I was fine. I texted her anyway.

Still coming?

The reply came almost immediately.

Already on my way. Dont start without me.

I smiled at the phone and slipped it into my pocket.

Four years ago she stayed after the seminar while the rest of the class filed out. I was erasing the board. She waited until we were alone, then stepped up to the desk with her notebook held against her chest.

I had a question about the reading, she said.

I waited.

She looked down at the notebook, then back up. Actually it wasnt about the reading. I just I wanted to ask if you were going to the department thing on Friday. The one with the visiting lecturer.

I hadnt planned on it.

Oh. She nodded too quickly. Okay. I was just wondering. Thanks.

She left before I could say anything else. Everyone in that class had seen the way she looked at me. I had seen it too. I never did anything about it. She was too young then, too soft, too obvious.

A month ago I was at a different club with a couple of guys from work. I was at the bar waiting on a drink when I felt someone looking at me. I turned. She was three stools down, older now, hair longer, still with that same soft look on her face like she couldnt believe I was real. She hesitated, then walked over.

Ivan?

Hey.

I thought that was you. Its been God, years.

Yeah. Howve you been?

Good. Busy. You look the same. She laughed under her breath. Can I buy you a drink? For old times sake. Or whatever.

We talked for twenty minutes. At the end she unlocked her phone and held it out.

Give me your number. We should I dont know. Catch up properly sometime.

I put it in. She texted me before I even left the bar so Id have hers.

The texts stayed polite for a while. Then one night, past midnight, she sent:

Im a little drunk so you can ignore this but Ive thought about you a lot since that night. Like a lot a lot. The kind of thoughts I probably shouldnt put in a text.

I stared at it for a full minute. Then I typed back:

Im not ignoring it.

After that the messages got worse in the best way. I kept answering, made her touch herself and cum for me

The club was already loud when I arrived tonight. Bass thumped through the floor hard enough to feel in my chest. Colored lights swept across the crowd in slow arcs. She was at the bar in a dark dress that hit mid-thigh, hair down, cheeks already pink. Two empty glasses sat near her elbow. When she saw me her whole face lit up.

You came, she said, and leaned in to hug me like she had been waiting all day. Her perfume was citrus and something warmer underneath. She held the hug a second longer than necessary, breasts pressed against my chest, and when she pulled back her hand stayed on my arm.

I said I would.

I ordered for both of us without asking what she wanted. A gin and tonic for her, whiskey neat for myself. She took the glass and drank half of it in the first few minutes.

I still think about that seminar sometimes, she said. Is that weird? You were the only TA who actually listened when people talked.

Most of them werent saying much.

I was. She smiled sideways at me. I was saying plenty. Its so embarrassing.

Her knee ...