Page 29 of Stepson

“Have you seen Gabe, Rachael?”

Her cheeks flush, and I instantly get jealous. I mean, I don’t condemn her for her attraction to him, but he’s mine.

“He left, ma’am. He took an Uber about thirty minutes ago, talking to someone about meeting up at their spot.” She busies herself cleaning the counter as I nod, feeling deflated.

He isn’t here. Damn it!

I finish my tea before I go to leave, halting my steps when I see something on the corkboard. Gabe’s phone number.

Looking over my shoulder, I see Rachael has her back to me as she continues cleaning. I pull my phone out and snap a quick picture before running upstairs. Once I’m there, I plughis number into my phone and stare down at his contact information.

Part of me wants to call him and see where he is, but I don’t think we’re at that stage yet. After all, I’m still a married woman. Then an idea pops into my head as I grin, getting undressed. I tear the new tags from the lingerie pieces and dress into them, feeling my hands shake the entire time. I’ve never done something like this either and I’m panicking a bit inside. Oh, what this man is doing to me.

As I stand in the mirror afterward, my mouth falls open at the sight of myself. Color fills my cheeks as I let out a nervous laugh. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The black and dark purple lace bralette with black straps that crisscross over my mounds pushing my girls up perfectly. My stomach is partially showing before the black garter belt and matching strings hug my hips. The straps from the garter belt hang against my thighs as I picture Gabe slowly removing each one with his teeth.

After putting on the black lace stockings, I connect the garter belt straps to them and grab my phone. How do I take a sexy picture? I’ve never done this before. I take the first one in the mirror, cringing when I look awful.

I probably take thirty more pictures before I capture the perfect one. I hold a hand in my long brunette hair, pushing up at the rotos as I sit on my knees, biting the tip of my finger from my other hand. The phone is between my legs, taking the photo after the timer goes off. It’s the perfect photo, and I’m even turned on by it.

With shaking hands, I send the picture to Gabe with a little caption.

ME: Stuck in this belt… not sure how to take it off by myself…

I hit send as my heart thunders. My feet run a path in the carpet as I pace back and forth. What if he hates it? What if hegets angry I have his number? Will he be angry I sent him a sexy picture? Fuck, unsend, unsend, unsend!

My phone dings with a reply, and I immediately open it, grinning from ear to ear at his photo. He sent me a picture of himself biting his fisted knuckles while his eyes roll into the back of his head.

GABE: Removal isn’t required.

GABE: What are you doing right now? Touching yourself? You should be…

GABE: Scratch that. I’m the only one who gets to touch you.

GABE: Where are you? Can you come to me?

My head spins as I read his messages coming in back to back. I giggle as my skin flushes.I’m the only one who gets to touch you.Fuck, isn’t that the truth? No man has ever or will ever make me feel the way he makes me feel with his touches. There’s no comparison. Ever.

ME: I’m at home. I can get dressed and come to you? Where are you?

GABE: No—stay in the lingerie.

GABE: Put on a longer jacket and come to me.

GABE: If you take that off, you’ll be punished, Bentley.

GABE: I’m at Redd’s bar on the corner of 5th and sunset. Hurry.

My heart falls into my stomach. He wants me to keep this one?! In public?! A long jacket or not, I’ll know what’s beneath it, and I don’t think I can do this. If I don’t, Gabe will punish me. I’m not sure if the thought of meeting him like this or the thought of him punishing me turns me on more, but my pussy throbs with anticipation.

BENTLEY: I’ll be there as soon as I can. Xx

I quickly run to my closet, begging the universe I have a long coat in here. The last time I remember wearing one was for an outdoor picnic in the Spring last year. It had been a bit cloudy and chilly and we had stopped off to buy it before we got there. Marcus was angry with me for not being more prepared. Asshole.

And then I find it.

A small chuckle comes out as I pull the light purple garment from its hanger. It’s the perfect shade, and I can’t help but wonder if this was a sign. If I ever divorce Marcus and remarry—hopefully to Gabe—our wedding will be purple.

I shrug the coat on, tying the straps around my waist tightly before I step back in front of the mirror. The jacket covers the lingerie but it isn’t long enough to cover the clips attached to my stockings. Stupid think only comes down to my mid thigh. Nope, I’m not going.