Page 1 of Say Uncle

CHAPTER ONE

“Attention SaveWay shoppers, two-for-one sale on beef jerky, aisle three,” a voice resonated over the loudspeaker.

Two-for-one? Fuck, I should have grabbed a cart instead of this little basket I carried. Dropping the soup cans in the basket, I beat feet to aisle three, determined to grab up the jerky before someone beat me to it. But when I rounded the corner, I didn’t see jerky; I saw my nephew—step-nephew—instead. He was leaning against the shelves with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at me.

“I knew you’d fall for it.” He laughed, shaking his head.

He played me? Son of a bitch!

“Jerky isn’t even on this aisle, jerk,” he goaded, making my palm itch to smack him.

To save face, I stalked toward himmenacingly, my expression a mask for my anger and embarrassment, and reached over his shoulder to grab a bag of rice. He flinched, which was all the satisfaction I needed. I didn’t even want the rice. I just needed to make sure he understood the rules of engagement. If he wanted to engage with me, he was going to wind up on the losing end because if there was one thing I’d learned in my forty-one years of chasing boys, it was that you had to put a brat in his place, or he would trample all over you.

He chuckled as he sauntered down the aisle back to his register, but I had no intention of letting it go that easily. I had a long, sharp memory, and nothing but time on my hands. I would get him back.

Continuing to fill my basket with the things I needed for the special dinner I had planned with Cass and Nicky, I hummed under my breath, refocusing my thoughts on happier things. I had plans for my play partners tonight; something new we hadn’t tried yet. Cass was vers, which set him up for all kinds of fun situations, and Nicky… He was the perfect boy, an insatiable submissive who was always ready to expand his boundaries.

By the time I made my way to the checkout lane, I had almost forgotten all about Matteo.Almost. He still wore that damn smirk across his attractive square face.

“No jerky?” he asked, surveying the contents of my basket.

I had a piece of fucking jerky for him.He’s your step-nephew, Sam! Off-fucking-limits.

I constantly had to remind myself of his hands-off status because when a brat pushed my buttons, it never failed to make my dick hard. And Matteo was the brattiest of brats.

“Why don’t you ring up my groceries and keep your damn mouth shut?” I advised him, biting back the words I really wanted to say.

“Ooohh, testy. You know, I’ve read about this. It happens to old guys when their dicks stop working,” he stage-whispered.

The older Matteo got, the bolder his sass became. If he were anybody else, I would prove to him how well my dick still worked, but since he was my sister’s stepson, there wasn’t much I could do. It burned my fucking ass to let him get away with it, making the Dom in me bristle hard.

“What would you know? You probably haven’t even gotten your dick wet yet.” The withering look I gave him was meant to reduce him to a significant puddle of nothing, but it seemed as though Matteo was completely unaffected by my glare.

An older woman filed into line behind me, and I gave myself a mental shake.Keep it clean, there are people listening.

“So, when are you cashing in the gift certificate for our fishing trip?” For his graduation present last year, I had given him a gift certificate for a day offishing aboard my charter boat, and he had yet to use it.

“I told you, I don’t fish,” he said petulantly.

I leaned in to whisper, “Are you saying you don’t know how to handle your pole?”

He caught my double meaning, meant to intimidate and belittle him, and glared daggers at me.

“Of course I know how to handle my pole,” he insisted too loudly.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Maybe I’d rather clean my toilet than spend the day with you.”

I snorted, brushing off his insult. “Like I haven’t heard that before.”

“What’s your problem?” He sulked, as if he hadn’t played a prank on me not fifteen minutes earlier over the loudspeaker. Matteo’s problem was that he could dish it out, but he couldn’t take it.

“Your attitude is my problem. Or rather, it’s your problem, but it annoys me.”

“You annoy me,” he retorted childishly, “and my attitude is not your fucking business.” Ignoring the gasp from the woman behind me, I leaned across the scanner, taking his chin between my fingers. I gripped him hard to get his attention.

“Didn’t I tell you not to curse at work?”

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