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Each time my hand strays to my manhood, I fight it. Masturbating over my step-niece is crossing a line, but I’ve already crossed far worse.
Maybe I fight it because I don’t want to waste the explosion of my lust. I want—need—to drive my manhood deep inside her, to pump over and over until she’s creaming all over my dick, her body’s signal she’s ready to give me a life.
A second later, Noah and Elena would’ve found us.
I roll over, hanging one hand off the bed and shoving the other beneath my pillow. I can’t do it. I have to be strong. This is going to be a long night.
* * *
“I thought you already left for work,” Elena says when Layla walks into the living room.
We’re eating breakfast: me, Elena, and Noah. When I returned from my morning run, I thought I got away lucky since Elena told me Layla had already left. Now she’s standing in the doorway, wearing her white kitchen assistant’s outfit. She tied her hair in a tight bun, taming its wildness. Her curves are more pronounced in the chef’s uniform, though maybe that’s a consequence of me being able to remember how she felt pressed against me.
“My car won’t start,” she says. “It’s making a cranking noise.”
“I can take you,” Noah says.
“You have that meeting,” Elena mutters. “I’ve got an early appointment at the salon, but I can try to see if one of the others can cover for me.”
“You hate canceling on clients,” Layla says, sighing. “Plus, it’s on the other side of the city. You’d lose a couple of hours.”
I almost laugh. A crazy part of me wonders if they’re all working together to ensure Layla and I spend as much time together as possible.
“I’ll give you a ride,” I say. “I was going to run into the city, anyway.”
Layla looks at me sharply. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I have nothing else to do until my office is up and running. It’s no trouble.”
“Are you sure?”
I smirk. “You already asked that.”
“That’s nice of you, bro,” Noah says. “As long as it’s not too much trouble.”
I stand. “None at all.”
Layla and I walk outside together. She stands close to me, but we’re not quite touching. She doesn’t get in right away when I open the passenger-side door.
“Miles, about last night…”
“Yeah?”
She purses her lips, looking so gorgeously sassy I almost kiss her. Then I remember that all Noah and Elena have to do is glance out the window.
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” she says passionately. “If we’re going to spend time together, we can’t… you know…doanything.”
“We both know we shouldn’t,” I say.
“Does that mean you’ll behave yourself?”
I smirk. “Ifyoucan, I’ll try.”
She climbs into the car, grabbing the door handle. “This isn’t a joke, Miles.”
Maybe this is her defense against our desire. If so, it’s a bad one.
“I kind of like it when you’re pissed at me. Is that strange?”
