There’s the spitfire woman I saw earlier, the one who quips back and talks dirty. The one—unlike Carol—who doesn’t cower when something doesn’t go her way.
Wait. What the fuck did she just call her?
It doesn’t hit me at first because I’m distracted by that fiery mouth…but did she fucking say mom?
Carol is her mom?
What the fuck?
Carl looks at me with his eyebrows raised and with a ‘you’re fucked’ expression.
“He’s your uncle now,” Carol says, and she points to me.
Time slows down, and I feel like everything is going in slow motion.
I watch as Mira—who I guess is my fucking niece now—becomes visibly ill. She looks like she’s been slapped across the face and kicked in the gut.
I think she might vomit.
And I think I might, too. My previously slow pace is now at light-speed, and the world spirals around me. I feel sick to my stomach.
I knew what I was doing wasn’t right per se and that I’m fucked up…but I didn’t know it was this fucked up.
Fucking hell.
The woman whose mouth was around my dick, expertly milking me, and who makes me hard as fuck whenever I see her, is my niece.
Chapter 6
Mira
“He’s your uncle now,” Mom says.
The room starts spinning like I’ve downed a dozen shots. Unfortunately, I’m stone-cold sober. I turn away from Mom, Carl, and Owen, facing the wall while I regain my bearings.
He’s your uncle.
Uncle?
I can still taste him in my mouth as my mom’s words swirl in my head.
I look over at Owen. He might technically be my uncle now, but for fuck’s sake—I still want him. He opened something inside me…and all I want to do is explore it more.
If my mom and Carl would get the hell out of their suite already, I’d show Owen exactly how much I don’t care about some arbitrary connection we share just because she and Carl repeated a few words in front of a justice of the peace.
“Out of all the rooms you could have picked, you chose our wedding suite.” Carl is practically screaming at Owen. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s the typical dick move for you, Owen.”
“And it’s typically self-centered of you to think it has anything to do with you,” Owen fires back. “I didn’t purposely pick your room. I just grabbed the first one I saw.”
I look over to see Owen buttoning up his shirt, and it takes all my willpower to not run the six feet over to him and rip that bespoke shirt off his muscular chest.
My cunt is wet at just the thought of it. I might have hit the snooze button a few too many times on my love life, but now that Owen woke me up, I’m determined to make up for lost time.
What I’m saying is: I want his dick in my mouth, in my cunt, and, well, anywhere he wants to put it. I’m game.
Why should I suffer because my gold-digging mom married the brother of the guy whose dick I just sucked?
Besides, the brothers don’t even seem to like each other very much. In fact, the way they’re hurling insults at each other, I’d guess they hate each other. As the newly crowned step-daughter of one of them, I could use this opportunity to forge a peace deal between the siblings.