by Alexa Riley
That’s what I’m hoping, anyway. Because I don’t think I can be happy without him. There’s an emptiness inside me that is on the verge of fulfillment. I’ve never pursued a relationship with anyone. Not with a potential friend or boyfriend—barely even my parents. But Rex…it’s like I can’t help being drawn back. He’s got one half of a magnet inside him and I’ve got the other.
I slide into a seat toward the back of the bus and rub my throbbing knee. Tears threaten behind my eyelids, but I think about Rex storming backstage last night and I immediately feel better. How is he going to react when I show up unannounced? He might bluster a little, but he won’t send me home, will he?
Thinking of the groceries…not to mention the bikini I’ve packed in my bag, my mouth moves into a smile.
No. He won’t be able to send me away.
The bus ride to Long Shadow takes an hour, but I’m too excited to sleep, even though I didn’t catch a wink last night. So I watch the passing scenery and breathe through the knots in my stomach. After about forty-five minutes, the foliage becomes dense and a forest builds, the trees stretching higher and higher toward the blue sky.
Rex only gave me a cursory idea of where he’s staying, but my stepfather goes on hunting trips up this way. I’m surprised I retained a word of his boring stories, but I did. And I know there are two hunting lodges where less experienced hunters bunk overnight, before going out with guides in the morning. I’m going on instinct, but I doubt Rex would lump himself in with less experienced anything. So I’m going to rent a bike once we reach the mountain summit and check rental properties until I find Rex’s truck.
Me on a bike. Shouldn’t be too dangerous, should it?
My knee throbs harder as if to mock me.
Chapter Eight
Rex
I know something is fishy as soon as I walk into the cabin.
“What the fuck is that incredible smell?” asks my buddy, Hank, sniffing at the air. “Whatever it is, I’m eating two helpings of it.”
Rudy, the third in our hunting party, joins us in the entry. “Roast beef and baby carrots.” Eyes closed, he holds up a finger. “With a sprig of rosemary on top.”
With a sigh, I ease off my camouflage vest and toss my cap toward an entry table. “Ain’t you two idiots concerned with who is cooking in our cabin?”
Rudy leans his rifle up against the wall and rubs his hands together. “Probably should be.”
“I don’t question free food,” Hank adds. “Plus, we didn’t take down anything today, so it’s the mysterious meal or takeout. I choose option one.”
Both of them clomp past me toward the kitchen, leaving filthy footprints behind them. Which normally wouldn’t bother me one bit. Unfortunately, every damn thing is bothering me today. The sun is too bright, the leaves are too crunchy, my friends never shut the fuck up. I’m anxious and irritable and it’s all because of the girl I left standing in her princess bedroom last night, looking so vulnerable and confused that I’m haunted by the memory.
A scream cuts through the air.
At first, I think it’s my imagination. I’ve been psyching myself out all day, picturing robbers converging on Clara’s bedroom and scaring her, making her call out for me, but I’m not there. I’m not there to protect her.
No. I’m not imagining the scream, though. Rudy and Hank back out of the kitchen with their hands up, their jaws on the floor. And I know. I know my niece is in the kitchen. Especially when Hank uses one finger to push back open the swinging kitchen door and peeks in, letting out a low whistle. That’s when I see her through the crack.
She’s wearing nothing but a tiny white apron.
“Clara.” I thunder toward the kitchen, my bellow bouncing off the living room walls. “You two jackasses. Get the fuck away from the door.”
“Damn. You know her?”
“Yeah. She’s my goddamn niece.” I shoulder through them, one hand poised on the kitchen door. “You know what that means?”
“Look but don’t touch,” Hank says with a nod. “You got it, boss.”
“Wrong. It means, don’t even look.”
“Roger that.” Hank backs away. “But, uh…you might want to wait for her to cover up before going in there…”
Something passes between the three of us in that moment. It’s obvious I’m not waiting to go in there, meaning I’ve already seen her without clothes. Or I want to. I’ve known Rudy and Hank for a damn decade, but they don’t see it coming. Don’t know what the hell to make of it, either. They simply stare as I use my body to block the opening and close myself in the kitchen with Clara.
Jesus. My cock hoists like a main sail at the sight of her pressed back against the kitchen island, breathing like she just ran a race. The bottom of that dinky apron doesn’t even hit her thighs. Nah, it shows off slinky, little black panties I’m willing to bet ride straight up the crack of her ass in back. Her tits aren’t showing, but they’re plumped and pointed at the apron’s square neckline…and fuck…the slope of her sides and swell of her hips are all on display.
Now I’m pissed. My friends saw her this way? They’ve probably already ran off to their bedrooms to jerk themselves into a stupor. She’s indecent. She’s innocent. She’s too many things to pinpoint…except for one unshakable certainty.
She’s about to be mine.
I start toward Clara, intending on demolishing her. I don’t know how I’m going to do it yet, but I’m not restricting myself anymore. I can’t. The obsession is choking me, crowding me in from all sides. Coming to Long Shadow was my last-ditch attempt to avoid debauching her. She came to me, though, and I’m losing control. I’ve almost reached her when I stop short, noticing the cuts and bruises on her legs. They’ve all been bandaged, but that only ticks me off more, because I didn’t have the privilege of fixing them up. “What the hell happened to you?” I cage her in against the island. “How did you get here?”
“B-bus…” she stammers, her cheeks pink. “And then a bike.”
“A bike,” I bite out. “How many times did you fall, girl?”
“Several,” she whispers. “Can we talk about something else?”
“You could have hit your head. You could have been seriously hurt.”
“But I didn’t. So we should…celebrate?” She gives me a trembling smile. “I made dinner. It was just supposed to be for us, but there’s enough for your friends.”
“You thought I was coming alone?”
Her nod is vigorous. “Yes.”
“That’s why you’re half goddamn naked?”
“Yes.”
My anger cools, which is very bad, because it makes way for the need. And the need is savage, liquid fire pooling in my balls. Hard isn’t even an adequate word to describe my cock. It’s a sweating, pulsing length of meat and it’s trying to tear through my pants to get at her virginity. She’s come here to offer it. It’s mine for the taking. There’s nothing to do but take, is there? No choice but to give her this liquid fire and let it take root where it should never, ever go. Where it’s forbidden.
I think of her glowing on stage, though. I see her poor scraped-up knees and I hesitate. Lord, she’s the sweetest thing on this planet. I’m not good enough for this gift. I’m not worthy. My brother knows it. My father knew it. Clara will know someday soon. I’m a man who battles the sea and comes home with torn-up hands and dirty jokes. Keeping her innocent is the one thing I can give her. Not taking this one thing might keep my guilt and self-disgust from sucking me under.
“Uncle Rex…” Clara whispers, going up on her toes and wrapping her arms around my neck. “I hurt.”
My body moves on instinct, molding her between me and the island. “Poor girl. Your legs?” I breathe in the scent of her hair. “I’ll make it all better.”
“Not my legs,” she says, playing with the ends of my hair. “Down there, I hurt. It got worse and worse the longer I waited for you.”
A groan forces its way out of my chest. “We talking abo
ut that little cunt of yours, Clara?” My callused palms scrape down the bare slopes of her sides, resting on her hips. Squeezing them. “Did you bring me a horny pussy, hoping I would forget I’m your uncle again and play with it?”
She makes a sobbing noise. “Uh huh.”
There isn’t a man alive who could withstand this temptation. And I have the new, added certainty that Clara needs a Daddy. And I want like hell to be him. I want to play games only we know and understand. Once I open that door—once I’ve taken ownership—I’ll never be able to close it, though.
That door creaks open when she reaches behind her neck and unties the apron, letting the neckline sag lower and lower until her prize tits are showing, all pink and puckered in the soft kitchen light. “Will you kiss them, Uncle Rex?” Her hips inch forward and I hear the movement of fabric as she unties the bottom part of the apron, letting it fall. Leaving her in nothing but some bullshit panties. “Will you kiss them while you’re inside of me?”
Sweat rolls down my back and my hands begin to shake. I can’t do this. I can’t fuck this beautiful doll and call her mine. We’re related by marriage. It’s wrong. So wrong. “How’s about I lick your pussy, girl? Been dying to get at it.” I grab her around the waist and drop her onto the counter, groaning like a slavering beast when the thong tugs to the side, giving me a glimpse of tight, teenage cunt. “Yeah. My tongue will keep you a virgin, won’t it? Just can’t shove it in too deep.”
Her puckered tits are shaking with excitement, but her face moves into a pout. “No. I want you inside me.”
“Clara, it ain’t happening.” I frame her jaw tightly in one hand. “But I’ve taken your ass and gotten sucked off. Need to give you something back now.” With a grunt, I let go of her jaw and shove her thighs apart. “Need to make you come worse than I need to come—and that’s saying something since I’m worked up as fuck.”
“No.” She squeezes her thighs back together, that little chin lifting. “I won’t let you make me come. Not unless you’re inside me.”
Something dangerous curls in my belly at being denied the right to give her pleasure. Shit, I’m all but drooling to get a taste of her fresh, young pussy. If I don’t hear her moan and know it’s my doing, I’m going to lose my mind. That creeping insanity is what makes my voice emerge dark. Scary. “You wouldn’t be playing games with me, now, would you, niece?”
“It’s not a game!” she shouts.
Faster than lightning, Clara slides off the counter and tries to get past me, but I catch her around the waist. And that’s when the struggling starts. Not to mention the conflict inside me. My mind is telling me to free her from my unbreakable hold before she goes and injures herself. But my body is telling me this is natural for us. She’s throwing a hissy fit and pleasure is the only way to appease her. My dick wouldn’t be thick as a rolling pin unless this was right. Hell, maybe Clara doesn’t even know why she’s fighting me, but I do. She’s not getting her way and on top of that, she’s horny. Daddy has to fix it.
Her back is to my front and she’s twisting right to left, scratching at my arms. “Let me go. I hate you.”
A spike lodges in my heart, but I ignore the discomfort and remind myself she doesn’t mean it. “Get these panties off,” I grit out, using my free hand to rip them down her kicking legs. “You better quit if you know what’s good for you, girl.”
“I do know what’s good for me. You won’t give it to me.”
With that pronouncement, she renews her struggles. Naked. Naked and writhing her perky backside all over my lap. Needing leverage, I walk us toward the kitchen table and push her face down on the wooden surface. Going on instinct, I step to the side and deliver a mean slap to her ass, while she continues to battle my hold. “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” I rasp, delivering two more rough smacks, come leaking from my cock at the sight of my handprint on her flesh. “Now you’re going to be a good little girl and let Uncle Rex get his fill of pussy. You understand?”
“No!”
“Oh yes, you are.” It’s hardly an effort to flip Clara over on the table, leaving her on her back. She catches me across the face with an open palm, but I ignore the sting and yank her knees open, getting my first unobstructed view of her perfect cunt. “Who the fuck are you waxing this for?”
“Not you, obviously.” She tries to close her legs, but I keep them pried open. “You don’t even want it.”
They probably hear my laughter in China. “Don’t want it? I think of nothing else. Nothing. Your pussy rules my life.” I deliver the subject of my obsession a slap and savor Clara’s gasp. “Answer me. Why don’t it have a single goddamn hair?”
“Dance costumes,” she says, glaring at me. “Sometimes they ride up or tug to the side and…it’s just easier this way, all right?”
My rage ebbs slowly. Taking advantage of her distraction, I drop down to my knees, jerking Clara to the table’s edge at the same time. She begins to struggle when she sees I’m done talking, but as soon as I deliver that first lick, the fight in her vanishes. I hear her shoulders land on the table, a shocked moan filling the kitchen. Teasing her clit with my thumb, I lift my head to find her mouth open, eyes glazed. “I can taste our fight down here, girl. Soaked you up good, didn’t it?” I replace my thumb with the tip of my tongue, jiggling her nub until she’s gasping my name. Uncle Rex, Uncle Rex. “Your parents aren’t around to make you behave, so it has to be me. This is how your uncle disciplines you. Just like this.”
I’m so close—so fucking close—to calling myself her Daddy, especially with the taste of heaven on my lips and tongue. With my talk of discipline hanging in the air. There’s a rumble deep inside me that’s going to become an earthquake once I let loose. So I use the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted to stop myself. I bathe every inch of it. Every smooth inch. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember Rudy and Hank are in the cabin, but I can’t stop. The volume of Clara’s moans is growing, her fingers spearing through my hair to keep me stationed at her clit.
Yeah, this girl’s clit is sensitive as they come. Knew it when she got off from my fingers while I was tapping her virgin ass. Nothing can stop her from coming when it gets the right amount of attention. And nothing is going to stop her now.
“Oh. Ohhhhh. Please don’t stop, Uncle Rex.” When I gently suck her little bud of flesh, only to attack it afterward with side-to-side jiggles from my tongue, Clara’s hips shoot off the table, her grip on my hair jerking me closer. “Feels so good. Oh God. I’m g-going to…I-I think…”
What I wouldn’t give to sink three fingers into her right now. I’d fuck them in deep and fast until she gushed, but I’d probably pop her cherry in the process. My hands curl into fists on her thighs. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Her scream is broken and hoarse when she orgasms, her feet flopping around on my shoulders, pushing at them, her tight body shaking like a fucking leaf. Goddamn, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t even get me started on the state of her pussy. I can see it clenching, feel it on my lips. It’s like a pink rose covered in dew when she finishes whining my name, her body lying boneless on the table.
My cock is still in a state of pain, but I lumber to my feet and twist my balls hard, trying to lessen the agony of my erection. Because she’s too beautiful like this to mess up.
And hell, she’s sleeping.
With a sigh, I go to the kitchen door and—blocking the sight of my naked niece—I open it and find my two friends milling by the couch. Shit. They heard every second of what happened and they’re going to want some kind of explanation. My instinct is to tell them to mind their own business, but if they heard Clara struggling and fighting me, I don’t want these good friends of mine thinking I done her dirty.
Didn’t you, though? Aren’t you?
I clear my throat. “Get me a blanket, would you?”
Rudy tosses me an afghan that’s settled over the back of a loveseat. A minute later, I pass through the living room with a blank
et-wrapped Clara, her face tucked trustingly into my chest.
“Can we eat now?” Rudy asks, wincing when Hank punches him in the shoulder. “What?”
Chapter Nine
Clara
Dancers make the best eavesdroppers, because we’re light on our feet. The three men in the living room don’t even hear me coming down the hallway, especially over the noisy television. They’re watching some survivalist reality show and nursing beers, frankly looking kind of uncomfortable with each other. Rex is lounged back in a leather easy chair, his two friends spaced out on the nearby couch.
My attention travels back to Rex and I have to cover my mouth so they won’t hear my dreamy sigh. Holy moly. He gets more irresistible every time I see him. In the old white T-shirt he’s wearing, I can finally see his tattoos. They rake down his arm in spikes and brushes of bluish green. The material of the shirt is thinner than his usual flannel, so I can see patterns of his chest hair underneath, more tattoos sneaking out over the neckline.
He doesn’t have a flat stomach or six-pack abs. Not like the girls in my dance school never stop talking about. No, he’s got a big barrel chest that drops to a real man’s waist. Thick but powerful. Sturdy. He’s a tank with thighs to match and they’re barely contained inside dark blue jeans.
As I watch, he lifts the bottle of beer to his lips, draining half of it with one gulp, the slide of his Adam’s apple making me ticklish between my thighs. I don’t even remember falling asleep after…after Rex used his mouth on me there. But God, how embarrassing. Seriously. Who just passes out on a table?
I didn’t even satisfy him.
My gaze drops to the bulge in Rex’s lap. Did he touch himself when I wasn’t awake to do it myself? If he did, I’m going to throw another tantrum. Throwing my fit in the kitchen felt…good, actually. I’ve always been polite and mild mannered, but there’s something about Rex that fills me with static energy. Makes me want to lash out and be a brat, just so he’ll take over. Take control of me. Touch me.
