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Chapter 3

  • Maija
  • By the time we finish sorting all the boxes, it is almost dinner time; we all agree on ordering pizza since no one feels like cooking.  The food arrives, and we all sit at the dinner table having our first meal as a family. The atmosphere is nice and relaxing as Charles retells how he and my mother met at his hotel. I have heard the story about five times, so I’m not keen on another reiteration. I look at the slice of pizza when he gets to the part about mom threatening him and chuckle as I poke away at it. For some reason, I am not hungry for food. However, I am hungry for someone. Slightly lifting my head, my eyes meet Zayne, which instantly causes a flood between my thighs. It really should be a crime to be that hot. I bite my lip, squeezing my thighs together, hoping to quell the heat that is building in my core.
  • “Are you not hungry, Maija? Or did you want something else, we can order…” Charles's voice slams through my salacious thoughts, bringing me back to reality. Was I hungry? Yes, but what I want isn’t on the menu, my dear stepfather– it’s in your son’s pants. I shake my head free of my dirty thoughts before responding.
  • “Hmm, I’m fine, I uh, just have a lot on my mind.”
  • ”I’m sure you do. Moving can be incredibly stressful.”
  • “Oh no...” I start to answer, but Zayne interrupts me.
  • “Drop the shrink act, dad.” I cringe at the harsh tone of his voice, bracing myself for an argument, but the argument never happens because Charles returns his remark with a smile.
  • “Putting the ole degree to good use. I’m sorry, Maija, that’s not how I meant it.” I smile, nodding as I return to picking at my pizza and thinking of ways to avoid fucking my step brother this summer. I need to avoid him at all costs until I go off to college. Before meeting him, I once considered the possibility of living at home since NYU was only two hours away. However, after meeting him, there is no way I can live with him and not rip his clothes off.
  • “You and Zayne should get to know each other, you know, like siblings.” I hear my mother say. Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible, mom. My panties are soaked, and all I did was look at him. The thought of treating him like a sibling was never in the cards. 
  • “Let’s see how long the marriage lasts first.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think. The look on my mother's face makes me instantly regret them. Me and my big mouth that lacks a suitable filter. I sigh. At least I didn’t let it slip that I want my stepbrother to bend me over the counter and fuck me mercilessly.
  • Zayne starts laughing suddenly, which does not help. My nipples harden as his laugh caressed my eardrums. What the hell is wrong with my body? He’s just one guy; why does he have this effect on me? I raise my head and meet his eyes again, his green eyes filled with mischief. Again, moisture settles between my thighs. Oh, those pouty lips. His face would make a perfect chair, I surmise as the heat in my body rises. He bites his lip as he looks at me. Oh so I’m not the only one drunk on lust, I smile.
  • Wait, there is something I should be doing. Apologizing. I peel my eyes away from him and glance at my mother, who still looks hurt.
  • “I’m sorry, mom, I’m sure this marriage will last forever. Naturally, Zayne and I will become friends–” more like fuck buddies, I think– “no need to force it.” My mother nods, feeling satisfied with my apology, and we all resume light banter and easy conversation as I made mental plans to work my dildo overtime tonight while imagining it is my stepbrother.