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Chapter One
Roman
I was going to hell for the things I thought about Kennedy, for the filthy fucking things I wanted to do to her body.
And if I wasn’t going to hell, the very least was I’d get my ass kicked by her father, who happened to be married to my aunt.
Was it taboo to want to fuck your step-cousin? Hell, I didn’t care if it was, because I wanted Kennedy so damn much, I found myself masturbating nightly to the image of her.
“And how is school going, Roman?”
I had tunnel vision where she was concerned, had for the last two years. We’d both been eighteen when we’d met, when she’d become part of our family. And ever since then I hadn’t wanted anyone else but her.
Kennedy was on her phone, and I couldn’t stop staring at her fingers, at the way she’d painted her nails this light peachy color. It seemed so innocent, but sexy at the same time.
I wanted to wreck that innocence.
I imagined her hand, so small compared to mine, wrapped around my dick, squeezing the life out of it. God, I’d jerked off to that image so many times that I’d made my cock raw from it.
Even though I was sporting wood right now, my jeans becoming increasingly tight, the table blocked the view, had my obscene perversions hidden from my family.
“Roman, your aunt Catherine is talking to you.”
I turned and looked at my mother, who sat at the head of the table. My father was to her left, Kennedy beside him. I glanced at my step-uncle, Victor, watching me as if he’d known the filthy fucking things I’d just been thinking. I cleared my throat and straightened, looking away from him to glance at my aunt.
She smiled and picked up her wine glass, taking a small sip from it.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” I didn’t hear you because I was imaging parting Kennedy’s thighs and sliding my cock deep in her tight pussy.
Fuck, I was going to hell.
I ran my hands up and down my denim-clad thighs, the sweat starting to bead along my spine as I felt everyone stare at me. Any other day I wouldn’t care, but the fact I was with family put me in an awkward position.
How long had I been staring at Kennedy while everyone waited for me to answer my Aunt Catherine’s question?
Shit.
“I asked how school was going.” She set her wine glass down and the room was silent as everyone waited for me to answer.
I cleared my throat and shrugged. “It’s going.”
“And work? You’re managing the shop now?”
“They promoted me to lead mechanic. More pay and responsibility, but that also means more hours.”
“Why don’t you just do school full-time? Then you can get a real job.” Victor said and I clenched my teeth.
“Victor,” my aunt hissed out.
Victor, my step-uncle and Kennedy’s father, was a man who had been in my life for the past two years, and who had a cold, hard exterior if you weren’t in his inner circle.
The gruffness of his voice could’ve skinned me alive. And the way he looked at me, the hard set of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, told me he might very well have guessed what I’d been thinking about when I was staring at his daughter.
“With all due respect, lead mechanic is a real job.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at him.
At twenty I might not be some preppy college guy, but I worked fucking hard, made good money, took some courses here and there for my education, and had my own place. I was sure I was handling my shit pretty well.
“In fact, I can come over this weekend and help you fix that alternator. Heard it was giving you issues but you were having trouble fixing it yourself.”
I should have kept my mouth shut, but here I was running it, my ego stinging from the whole “real job” comment he’d delivered in front of everyone, especially the girl of my fucking dreams.
The room was eerily silent, the air thick because I’d dropped that little fucking bomb. And then my uncle tipped his head back and laughed, a deep, hearty one that instantly had everyone relaxing. But I hadn’t been joking. He’d pissed me off with his comment so I’d come back a little harder, but apparently, he thought I was teasing.
He smacked his hand on the table and the silverware shot up as he continued to laugh.
I looked back at Kennedy because, well, because it was her.
Since she’d come into my life, she was all I wanted. I couldn’t even understand why I’d fallen so hard and instantly for her. We were polar opposites, still were, if I were being honest. She was a bookworm, this good girl. I was this rowdy bad boy who didn’t do well with authority and got into more trouble than my parents liked.
