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She’s your fifteen-year-old niece.
Off limits.
Cannot be touched.
Cannot be even thought about that way.
She is your fucking niece.
I chanted this sentence repeatedly, but the way her lush lips parted, the way her dark eyelashes fluttered whenever she looked at me made it hard for me to believe my own mantra. I closed my eyes for a moment to center my fucked-up thoughts, but her hesitant touch on my cheek forced my eyes to open.
“I love you,” she whispered. I cursed at her sultry voice. Everything about her was a curse to my traitorous body. A siren call to the lost pirat
e in the stormy ocean. The tempting light in the angry darkness.
You need therapy, Zeke. You need to be kept as a prisoner for the thoughts in your sick mind.
I reminded myself she loved me as a brother before laying down next to her.
“I love you, too,” I gritted out.
Her body melted in my arms as she molded her soft curves to my hard lines. I made my hand into a fist just to will my dick to behave, but it was no luck. As she pushed her ass to my groin, I swallowed a groan and forced myself to think of something else, anything but the fact that she felt amazing flushed against me.
I let out a strangled growl when her breathing evened out, and I kept holding her with a fucking hard-on between us.
I shouldn’t have replayed the history. I should’ve stayed on the floor and let her door stay closed, but I couldn’t. When I heard another scream from her room, I shot to my feet and opened her door. Padding slowly to her bed, I turned on the light and touched her shoulder. She let out another cry when she saw my shadow next to her bed.
“Maya, you’re having a nightmare,” I said.
She nodded, leaning back, so my hand no longer touched her. “I’m okay,” she snapped.
“You sleep, I’ll wait here,” I murmured, not giving her time to protest before going to the corner of her room and sitting against the wall. This was the most distance I could put between us while still giving her some kind of comfort.
She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. Finally, with a sigh, she turned off the light on her nightstand and lay back in her bed.
I listened to her breathing in the darkness of her room. I knew she laid awake for a while, but she’d been sleeping peacefully by the time the sun showed itself through the floor to ceiling windows of her room. When I stood up to leave her room, I let selfishness get its way one more time. Leaning over her fragile form, I kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent I was addicted to.
She was like sugar to my system, the more I took a taste, the more I wanted until there was nothing in my veins but her. Until she put me in a coma of sweet death.
Since the moment she was born, she’d been killing me so softly, so sweetly, I didn’t know how to live without her. My death wouldn’t be a bad thing if it were by her hands. What a way to end a miserable life like mine.
CHAPTER 18
MAYA
I hated how I was still in tune to him. After all those nights I spent crying my eyes out, after all those days I waited for him to come back, I couldn’t have cut the invisible cord that connected us.
I hated the way my heart beat faster whenever he was close, whenever he looked at me with the same intensity I grew up with.
I hated how I slept without nightmares for the first time in two years with his presence in my room. Being in the same room with him had awakened every memory I had with him, and I craved his proximity. With each passing day, staying indifferent to his existence was an impossible task. Even though I kept a mask on around him, I couldn’t have suppressed or ignored the emotions that stormed inside me. I didn’t even know why I was trying to keep the mask. To punish him or to hide my feelings, so he didn’t leave me again?
Shaking my head, I headed to the kitchen area to have breakfast. He was already seated on the stool, sipping his coffee. I slowed my steps just to stall so I could have more time to watch his features. He was the worst addiction. Drugs would kill you when you took them, but Zeke was killing me just with his existence.
When I sat on the stool opposite him, he looked at me with a demanding gaze.
“You’ll see a therapist today,” he said curtly. His voice didn’t leave any chance to question or protest.
Gritting my teeth, I started to nibble my toast.
