Page 11 of Stepson

I slowly walk up to her and grab her chin, forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes go wide when our gazes lock and it kills me to see her look this way.

“Stop apologizing.”

She gulps but doesn’t say another word.

I want to kiss her. I want to strip her naked and feel her skin against mine. I want to sink so deep inside of her she’ll feel me for a month.

But I don’t do any of those things.

We stand here and stare at each other for a long moment, and part of me wants to drag my thumb over her lip like I did the night I first met her. We were in the middle of fucking in theback of my dad’s Jeep when I reached up and grabbed her jaw, roughly gliding my thumb over her bottom lip as she came on my dick. Her eyes misted over, and I knew in my heart, even then, that she would be mine.

“Is everything okay in here?”

Her eyes panic as we step away from each other as Maggie comes into the room. These fucking maids are going to get on my last fucking nerve. If we were alone, I would have already had Bentley naked and sprawled out on her bed as I tie her to it, but not with these fuckers around.

“I just dropped a box. Thanks, Maggie.” Bentley looks over at me with fear in her eyes, and I know that’s my cue. She doesn’t want to get caught doing something she clearly thinks she shouldn’t be doing.

When I’m done with her, she’ll never apologize ever again.

Maggie comes into the room and mentions stripping her bed sheets to wash. The moment between us is over. For now.

I throw Bentley a wink before I turn and leave her room with a smirk on my lips. Tonight, when the staff leaves, I’m going to have her screaming my name over and over and over again.

Chapter eight

Bentley

One taste wasnotenough.

I may be a married woman, but at this point, it’s more legal than it is real. I haven’t felt like Marcus’s wife in years. If anything, we’re roommates who share the same last name. My body and soul crave to be touched, and Gabe is the first guy to ever make me come crawling back for more.

He’s the type of guy who makes you question your entire reality, and that’s exactly what he’s doing to me right now. All of the memories from our one night together are impossible to ignore, and my feelings for him afterwards slam into me now. I wanted him to call me. I wanted to have something with him. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I wanted Gabe, and that’s dangerous.

“I’ll take these down to wash. Is there anything else I can take down?” Maggie asks, pulling my attention back to the present.

I shake my head. “The bedding is perfect. Thank you.”

As she leaves, my eyes drift through the room, and I almost die when I see my vibrator still sitting out. Oh my God, please tell me Gabe didn’t see it! Maggie knows all about my toy collection, but I don’t want Gabe to know too.

I run over to grab it before I march to the bathroom to clean and put it away. Now that Gabe is staying here, and seems to help himself into my room, I’m going to need to be more careful about where I leave them.

The box I tried to retrieve from my closet is now lying on the floor with its contents spilling out. There’s an old photo album in there somewhere I’m desperate to find. I took one photo from the night I met Gabe, and I know it’s in there. I should leave it be, but I just can’t. I need to see it again.

I dig through the old contents until I find the album and whip through it until I find it. It’s battered and the corners are in rough shape, but that’s what happens when you look at something every single day for a solid year straight. Fuck, I even slept with it a few times after I cried myself to sleep staring at his face. There were too many times I begged his photo to call me. But he never did.

It’s exactly how I remember it. I’m sitting on Gabe’s lap laughing as I hold my phone back and snap the picture. He’s staring up at me with the sweetest smirk on his lips; ones that are swollen from our make out session. But as I stare at the picture, I notice how different I looked back then.

I was much younger than I am now, and I actually looked happy. My skin glowed and my smile said it all. But the longer I stare at the picture, the sadder it makes me feel. If Gabe hadn’t been incarcerated and had actually called me, what would our life together look like? Would we be happy? Wouldwe be married? Or would I have ruined it like most of my relationships?

No longer able to look at the picture, but not willing to put it back in the album, I carry it to my nightstand and slip it inside. I want quick access to it when I need to look at it.

A light knock pulls my attention toward the door, making my jaw drop when I connect eyes with Gabe. He leans against my door frame in nothing but his briefs. What the hell is he doing?!

“Apparently my shower needs to be fixed. Mind if I use yours?”

Yes, I mind.

A mental picture of him showering naked in my shower just a few feet away from me makes my mouth water and my legs squeeze together.

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