A couple of weeks ago, Mayor Shine reported that his twelve-year-old son went missing. As tirelessly as the department has been working on finding out where he is and what happened to him, there's been no leads.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Aleah asks.
“No.” My answer comes out harsher than I intended. I turn off the stove and put the lid on the pot before I take a couple of steps back and turn to face her. I soften my tone. “Thank you for the offer.”
She doesn’t say anything for several long seconds. Just runs her beautiful, caramel eyes over every inch of my face. Then she drops her chin and focuses on my chest. I begin to wonder what she’s thinking when her tongue comes out to swipe across her lips. After a moment, she lifts her head again and the heat in her eyes is so fucking hot, I damn near combust.
“There are other ways I can help you relieve some stress,” she says quietly as she takes a step closer.
One of my hands grips the counter while I ball the other into a fist and shove it into my pocket. I’m fifty years old, and an almost eighteen-year-old has left me speechless. Speechless and more turned on than I’ve been in my life.
I should tell her no. I should turn around and leave the kitchen. Ignore the incessant pull I feel for Aleah. I should, but when she lays her hand on my arm, all I can do is stand there and stare at her.
It would be so easy to grab her. To pull her to me and finally find out if she tastes as good as she smells. To flip her around, shove down both of our pants, and fuck her until neither of us remembers our names. To push her to her knees, rip open my jeans, and sink between her luscious lips.
Fuck, I bet she’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.
Blood rushes south, hardening my shaft. I shake myself out of my fantasies and remove her hand from my arm.
“I don’t know what in the hell has gotten into you lately, Aleah, but this shit is not happening.”
“What’s gotten into me?” One side of her mouth tips up into a barely there smile. “I’m going after what I want. Haven’t you always told me to never give up on the things that are important to me? To go after them and don’t let anything get in my way?”
I scowl. “You don’t know what you want.”
Her smile grows, and it only manages to heighten her appeal. I’ve always liked her smile. It lights up her whole face.
“I definitely know what I want, and it’s standing right in front of me.”
I grit my teeth and force out my next words between them. “It’s. Not. Happening.”
She takes a small step forward, getting way too close. “Why not?”
“Because I’m your step-father. Because I’m thirty-two years older than you. Because if Bryan found out, he’d lose his shit.”
Her head dips into a nod. “All fair points. But they aren’t good enough.” Not fucking good enough? “You are my step-father. Step, Spencer. There is no blood relation between us.”
She takes another step, her hand lifting to rest on the center of my chest, and I wonder if she can feel the rapid beat of my heart. My head falls back on my shoulders, and I close my eyes.
“And age is just a number,” she continues. “I don’t give a crap how old you are.” I feel her move closer. “As far as Bryan goes, he’s got no room to talk. He slept with his patient. And if he gets angry, he can get over it. You’re a grown man, and I’ll be eighteen tomorrow. We can do whatever we want.”
Opening my eyes when she’s finished, I stare at the ceiling, trying like hell to keep my sanity and my resolve. Giving in would be easy, and I know the pleasures would be insurmountable. But it’s wrong.
So fucking wrong.
The choice is taken from me when the front door opens and closes. I take two steps back and Aleah’s hand slides off my chest. I turn and face the counter to give my body a chance to cool down.
Before Bryan and Charlotte come into the kitchen, I look over at Aleah and growl, “No more of your games, Aleah. You and I aren’t ever going to happen.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I look down at the sink so I don’t see her expression. To give myself something to do, I squirt some soap in my palms and wash my hands.
“Hey, you two,” Bryan says when he and Charlotte enter the kitchen.
Grabbing a hand towel, I pray like hell my dick has gone down enough that he doesn’t notice as I turn around to face them.
I clap hands with Bryan and Charlotte comes in for a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, Spencer,” she says, stepping back.