Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter ONE.

Beyoncé BK Knowles.

THERE are few things I can resist in life. This is probably why I got into so much trouble during my younger years. Control is everything-and that is the one thing I've learned from my bastard of a father. You gain nothing by letting yourself go, by revealing your emotions, by becoming vulnerable.

If you're unable to resist the things that draw you in, it's a surefire way to ask for unwanted chaos. I've had enough of that in my personal life growing up. Hell, in my professional life too, though I've finally turned that corner these last few years.

But the few things I can't resist? A challenge. A bet.

"He's an absolute sucker to get married," Aubrey says, his disgust-filled voice pulling me from my thoughts. Micaiah Maraj is my best friend. Aubrey Drake Graham is too. I've known them both since high school. We're standing together at our college buddy Dave East's wedding reception, lurking in a dark corner of the crowded ballroom and muttering over the so-called sanctity of marriage.

Marriage represents a noose around my neck that tightens with every miserable day. My parents are a shining example of the worst marriage in the history of marriages. They hate each other. They cheat on each other. They fight. Yet they're still together.

Makes no damn sense.

"He seems happy," Aubrey, the more optimistic of us three, starts, and both Micaiah and I shoot him a look that shuts him up.

"His wife is attractive, I'll give her that," Micaiah concedes, sipping from his glass of champagne. "But the moment they come back from the Tahitian honeymoon, she'll turn into the biggest bitch on the planet, I guarantee it."

"You don't even know her," Aubrey mutters, shaking his head.

"Don't have to. They all do it. Sexy and beautiful and sweet when you first meet them, you don't know what to think. The sex is amazing and you're having it constantly. They'll drop to their knees whenever you ask and give you a grade-A blowjob. Next thing you know, you're buying them a ring." Aubrey pauses, takes another swig of his champagne, draining the glass.

We've talked about this before. We've watched our friends go down one by one like fallen soldiers to marriage, especially this last year.

"You get that ring on their finger, go through this whole marriage ceremony bullshit and then you're left with nothing but a nagging wife and a limp dick in the aftermath. Always giving you shit because you're never home and you work too much." I grimace because holy hell, that sounds like my worst nightmare.

"They sure as hell never complain when they're spending your money, though." Micaiah gestures with his empty glass.

"Hear, motherfucking-hear," I say, returning the gesture with my glass before I finish it off.

"You guys are such cynics. Both of you act like you've done this sort of thing before." Aubrey crosses his arms in front of his chest. "When was the last time either of you had a girlfriend." He doesn't phrase it as a question because he already knows the answer. From the start of our friendship, they already knew I was interested in women considering I am kinda a dick sometimes according to Aubrey.

"Never," I sneer. Serious girlfriends aren't a consideration. None of them interested me enough to want to keep them around.

With the exception of one woman and I absolutely cannot touch her. She's too young, too sweet, too good, too everything I'm not. She's so fucking tempting and so completely off limits, I'd be a damn fool to attempt anything with her.