Everything was ruined.
The urge to tell someone what happened was almost too hard to resist as I eyed my discarded cell phone with longing. I wished I could call Suzanne and unburden myself, but I knew this was one secret I couldn’t spill. Not this time. If I told Suzanne, in a few days’ time the whole family would know. I’d be mortified. No, I had to keep this to myself.
Biting my bottom lip, I fought hard to keep the thoughts of Devan at bay, but it was too difficult. I thought of his strong arm with its sinuous, tattooed snake and how his muscles rippled when he touched me. The way he ground his hips against mine, making me feel his hardness, his lust, showing me just how hot I made him.
Those thoughts were addictive, and the guilt only made it worse.
Forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest.
Still feeling a little dizzy from the alcohol that I’d practically bathed in, my fingers found their way back between the sheets, and I stroked my centre slowly, lazily pretending it was Dev’s hand caressing me. I thought of him coming to my rescue at the bar, the way Dev’s muscled body made me more and more excited.
And then the kiss… the one that had probably ruined any future make-out sessions for me.
His mouth on mine felt perfect, and nothing in the world could change that. Dev’s touch was voracious, needy, impatient and possessive. Instantly, I felt wetness between my legs soaking the silky fabric of my panties.
He wants me all for himself…
I gulped hard.
But of course, I could be professional. I had to be. I knew the kiss was probably nothing to Dev - only a rebellion against his wife who had been giving him the cold shoulder for weeks as far as I knew.
I had to pretend it never happened. I had to go through with the plan of being their surrogate. I could do it despite knowing what Monique was doing behind Dev’s back and knowing how special my stepbrother’s touch made me feel. Couldn’t I?
I’d never mention it again.
Yet deep down, I knew any attempt at forgetting just wasn’t an option. I wouldn’t even try to deny it, because what was the point? That kiss was pure magic, lust and desperate need combined. It was two bodies fitting seamlessly together, exchanging their deepest desires with a simple touch.
It could never, ever happen again.
My eyes became heavier and heavier, threatening to pull me under with each second that passed.
My hand had become trapped between my legs, feeling my own arousal soaking my thong. With the other hand, I was still touching my lips, feeling the heat from our kiss fade away.
I had one last thought before I fell asleep.
All it took was one kiss. One kiss, and I was already falling for Devan, knowing it would break me, because as forbidden relationships go, this was at the top of the list.
Groaning, I closed my eyes and finally let the tiredness take over. There would be plenty of time to worry about what we’d done tomorrow.
10
Devan
I made myself walk away from her, even though it was the last thing I wanted in the world. For the first time in months, I felt alive next to a woman, and I was sure the feeling was mutual.
It had taken everything to turn away, to not tear away her panties and fuck her right there and then on the steps while my wife was oblivious in the house below.
To take her for my own.
I could’ve done it… I should have. But I’d made a promise to myself a long time ago to never be that guy again – the bad guy whom everyone hates. The man who used pretty girls because he could. Never calling them back, fucking them about, not caring if they got hurt in the process, but always getting what I wanted, when I wanted it. Taking what I thought belonged to me.
No, I’d become a gentleman. The one who opened doors, the one who stayed loyal to his wife even though she hardly gave him a second glance anymore.
But, fuck! Mila’s deep kiss, her arms tracing the outlines of muscles on my back, and that little whimper she made when I moved away an inch. Mila wanted me just as much as I did her and seeing that creep’s hands all over had made me lose all control. He was lucky that I hadn’t crippled him.
And though it was completely irrational: she was mine.
I’m not a fool. I knew what we did was wrong. I knew I’d betrayed my wife’s trust in the worst way possible, and my heart was already feeling the pangs of guilt constricting my chest.
But goddamn it, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that kiss had made me feel like a man. Finally, after months of inner turmoil, I knew I could still turn a woman on.
Mila’s sighs were proof enough. If only that were the only realization of the night. If only it weren’t followed by deep, painful regret and confusion, knowing I longingly wanted to sleep in my stepsister’s bed, not my wife’s.