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I close my eyes and picture him doing just that. I force them open after only a few seconds. I seriously don't need to be turned on in the middle of the school day.
"I take it he hasn't touched you yet?" Luna asks.
I pout like I'm five years old and grumble, "No." I take a bite of my peeled banana. "I'm going to have to up my game."
Luna bites her lip and gives me a look that I don't like. "Don't hate me for saying this, but maybe he's not interested in you like that."
I snort at her absurd statement. Not interested in me like that?
"Did you not just hear me say he sometimes looks like he wants to fuck me against a wall?"
"Maybe you only see lust because you want to. Maybe it's really anger."
"It's definitely not anger. It's so hot it would make a nun cream her virginal panties."
She crumbles up her granola package. "Well, what are you going to do?"
A mysterious smile slides across my lips. "My birthday is in two days. I have something planned."
Luna's eyes go wide. "Oh goodness. I can only imagine what you have up your sleeve.”
“If this doesn’t work, I’m not sure what will. I’ll let you know how it goes after my birthday.”
Anticipation has swarms of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. After this weekend, I’m sure to have Spencer exactly where I want him. Over me, under me, and everywhere in between.
Chapter 5
SPENCER
Standing at the stove while I stir a pot of spaghetti sauce, I try my best to keep my eyes off Aleah, who’s standing a few feet away from me tossing a salad. For the past several months, she’s driven me crazy with her revealing outfits. Short shorts that show way too much leg. Shirts that dip down far enough her ample cleavage is on display. Prancing around in just a tank top and panties. Wearing my shirts. They go down far enough to reach mid-thigh, but all I can think about is if she’s wearing anything underneath.
I thought if she stopped wearing shit like that, I would be safe. That my mind wouldn’t wander to places it shouldn’t.
I was wrong.
Standing there in a pair of worn jeans with rips in the knees and a soft, lavender, long sleeved shirt, I realize she could be wearing a fucking burlap sack and my stupid head would still imagine what’s hidden beneath it.
Not only is this situation fucked up, but I’m fucked up for letting my imagination run wild.
What man in their right mind fantasizes about their step-daughter? One who’s only seventeen. Yeah, sure. She’ll be eighteen tomorrow, but even if age wasn’t a factor, she’s my fucking step-daughter.
Who the hell knows. Maybe I’m just a horny bastard who hasn’t gotten his dick wet in far too long. Maybe fucking Carla tomorrow will reset my brain, and things will go back to normal. It better, because I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.
Aleah steps up close to me and gets to her tippy toes to reach for something in the cabinet. Her intoxicating scent and the sliver of skin that peeks out between the bottom of her shirt and her jeans plays with my control. I grit my teeth and avert my eyes away from temptation.
“You okay?” she asks. Her hand lands on my forearm and my muscles twitch.
“Yes,” I grit. “Just thinking about work.”
I don’t look at her, but I can feel her eyes on the side of my head. I try to neutralize my expression, but I doubt I succeed.
She removes her hand and pulls off a strip of saran wrap to put over the salad. “Is it one of your cases?”
No.
“Yes.”
“Is it about the mayor’s missing son?”
