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  I shifted, expecting him to be beside me, but when I saw emptiness, I felt disappointment fill me. The first thing that came to my mind was that he regretted it, had left, and that he’d leave our house because this would just be too difficult.

  I knew things would be hard when my father found out, when we told him. There was no getting around that ... there was no going back.

  But we were both consenting adults, loved each other, and I wasn’t about to give that up.

  I wasn’t about to give Matthew up.

  I pushed myself up on the bed, trying to formulate what I would say to Matthew to convince him that he didn’t have to be worried about this blowing up in our faces. But before I could really think of anything, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. A moment later my door was pushed open and Matthew stood there in the entryway, completely bare except for the boxer briefs he wore.

  The air left me as I stared at his body. Shoulders so broad he blocked out everything behind him. His waist was narrow, his abdomen defined. He did manual labor day in and day out. He was all male.

  He had that cut of muscle on either side of his six-pack, that defined V that had my mouth watering. His legs, thighs specifically, were as thick as tree trunks, toned and powerful, strength pouring off of him in waves.

  I was so small, so feminine compared to him.

  And his tattoos, ones he did a good job of hiding when he wanted to, covered his arms and chest, even disappearing underneath the elastic of his briefs. His dark hair was disheveled, messy around his head, and I thought about why it was like that.

  Because of me. Because of what we’d done.

  And then I lowered my gaze back down to his underwear once more, could see the stiff, hard outline of his cock pressing against the material. It hadn’t been like that when he’d first come into the room, so that meant me looking at him, staring at him and taking in my fill, had affected him as much as it was affecting me.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, Ivy, I won’t be able to control myself.” His voice had a sharp edge to it, one that moved over my body and had every erogenous zone in me coming alive.

  I gripped the sheets beneath me, holding on to them tightly, trying to control my breathing. “Maybe I don’t want you to control yourself,” I suddenly said softly, nothing but a mere whisper.

  I heard him growl low, like this feral animal. He stepped forward—stalked—there was no other way to describe his movements.

  Stealthy. Precise.

  When he got to the edge of the bed, he braced his hand on the mattress, his focus trained right on me. He reached out and grabbed the sheet that covered me, pulling it slowly off, the material sliding down my body.

  My nipples puckered further, and I was so drenched between my legs, I had no doubt a wet spot would form beneath me.

  And then he reached out and grabbed my ankles, curling his big hands around the delicate bones, his fingers touching as he slowly pulled me down the mattress. The air left me on a whoosh as I lay on my back now, watching Matthew, knowing what he was about to do.

  His eyes were right on me as he pushed my legs apart ... as far as they’d go. My muscles protested from the act, but I obeyed. I did exactly what Matthew wanted because it’s what I wanted as well.

  I bent my knees and placed my feet flat on the bed. He slid his hands up my calves, pushing me even more open. I was obscenely spread for him, my inner lips parting like a blooming flower.

  “I could devour you and it wouldn’t be enough, Ivy.” He moved in an inch closer and I felt his warm breath move along my pussy. “Because the truth is, I’m starved for you.” Matthew looked down between my legs, his eyelids lowering slightly, this half-mast expression now covering his face.

  His mouth parted slightly, the air leaving him on a breath. I felt that stream of air move along my exposed lips, causing me to close my eyes and moan harshly.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Ivy.”

  I swore I could feel the vibrations of his voice along every inch of me. My clit throbbed in time with my pulse, and I clenched the sheets even tighter. My neck muscles strained as I rose up slightly and looked at him, keeping my upper body elevated so I could look down the length of my body to see his head between my legs.

  I licked my lips, not sure if I could actually say the words, could be so vulgar, to tell him what I wanted him to do to me.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, commanded in this harsh growl. His hands were clenched tightly on my inner thighs, and all I could think about was how I wanted bruises on my skin, his mark of ownership.

  “I want your mouth on me,” I whispered, my chest rising and falling, my stomach hollowing out as my breathing increased.

  His hold on me tightened painfully, that agony and pleasure mixing as one. He stared into my eyes for a suspended moment, and then he leaned down and devoured me.

  I couldn’t hold myself up any longer and fell back on the mattress, closing my eyes and pulling the sheets on either side of me as ecstasy slammed into my body. He licked and sucked on me, sliding his hands closer to my pussy so he could place his thumbs on either side of my lips and pull them apart, really sucking on me then.

  Matthew latched his mouth on to my clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves in long pulls, drawing out my pleasure until I was on the precipice of coming, and then slowing down, making me whimper in need.

  He flattened his tongue along my pussy hole, dipping it in and pulling it out, pushing it back in and retreating. He did this over and over again, fucking me with that muscle before flattening it again and drawing it up my center and back to my clit.

  I was mindless with desire, my lust so potent it was like a living entity inside of me. I was crying, tears falling out of the corners of my eyes as the pleasure continued to soar higher, until I felt like I was drifting above everyone and everything.

  He hummed, those vibrations setting me off, having me explode for him.

  I cried out as I came, heard his harsh grunt against me, and felt the mattress slightly moving. I knew he was pressing his dick against it, dry humping it.

  My legs closed slightly, his head blocking them from touching. I kept him between my thighs, his relentless mouth working me over until I was too sensitive for more. I begged, pleaded, and whimpered for him to stop.

  He pulled back and crawled up my body and I forced my eyes open, staring into his, unable to draw enough oxygen into my lungs. And then he kissed me, stroking his tongue along the seam of my lips before plunging inside and making me taste myself on him.

  By the time he pulled back I was a withered mess, my body like putty for him, pliable. Every synapsis in my brain fired at once.

  He moved to the side and pulled me close so we were chest to chest, the semi-stiff outline of his erection pressing against my belly. I reached between us and started stroking his length through the material, and then came across the saturated part of his briefs, right where his cock head was. I sucked in a breath as I realized what had happened.

  He gripped my chin with his thumb and forefinger as he stared into my eyes. “You see what you do to me?” He leaned in and kissed me softly. “You’re so fucking hot, so perfect, that you getting off for me had me coming in my fucking underwear like I’m some inexperienced teenager.”

  He kissed me harder than before and I melted against him. The fact that I could make Matthew lose that much control gave me a wave of power. I felt it move through every single part of my body. This wasn’t just a passing fling. I knew that with certainty, felt it.

  This was an all-consuming love that would only get stronger with time.

  This was a forever kind of thing.

  18

  Ivy

  “Ivy, anyone in there?”

  I blinked a few times, the end of my pencil in my mouth as I turned and looked at Georgia. She sat across from me on one of the outside picnic benches on school property. The sun was shining, the weather was perfect, and my mind was on one thing.

 
; Matthew.

  I thought about everything we’d done together, how he made me feel. I thought about how he’d taken my virginity, how I was still pleasantly sore between my thighs. That thought had heat rushing to my face and I cleared my throat, setting my pencil down and trying to act like my mind wasn’t in the gutter.

  The way Georgia lifted a dark brow told me I probably wasn’t playing this off as well as I had hoped.

  “What are you thinking about, girl?” She wagged her eyebrows.

  A gust of wind picked up and blew some of our lunch trash around the table. We scrambled to pick it up, a small reprieve for me from having to attempt to give her part of the truth. I didn’t think I could actually be honest with her about it all, couldn’t tell her how I felt, that I was in love with my uncle. I trusted her, but I was afraid.

  Maybe too afraid.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” The genuine concern in Georgia’s voice was clear.

  I didn’t want to be ashamed or afraid. And a part of me wanted to just come clean. This secret weighed heavily on me, was eating me up inside.

  I looked into her eyes, knowing that I had to trust her with this, that she’d always had my back. If I couldn’t be honest with my best friend, then who could I be honest with?

  And so I’d just say it.

  “I’m in love, Georgia.” Those words spilled from me effortlessly and it felt so good getting them out to someone other than Matthew. Her eyes widened a bit and then she grinned.

  “Seriously?” She leaned forward. “Who is it? Does he go to our school? What’s his name? Do I know him?” She fired off the questions one by one and I felt my nerves climb higher.

  This was it, the moment I’d finally be honest, truthful with someone. Would it ruin our friendship? Would she think I was disgusting? Or maybe she’d accept it and be there for me.

  I could tell she was anxious for my answer, and although I knew this was what I wanted to do, I was also scared shitless. But I took a deep breath then, looked her in the eyes, and just said the biggest secret I’d ever had in my life.

  “It’s Matthew.”

  She looked a little confused at first, her brows furrowing as she leaned back. “Matthew? Matthew Hawk from English 101?” I shook my head slowly. “Matthew Jacobson from physics?” I shook my head again. “Please tell me it’s not Mr. Richards, our gym teacher.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “His first name is Matthew? How do you even know that?” I shook my head again. “Never mind.” I exhaled. “He doesn’t go to school.” I licked my lips and started rubbing my hands up and down my thighs.

  “He’s older?” It was clear she hadn’t put two and two together, but then again, who would think someone would be in love with their uncle?

  “Yeah, he’s older.”

  “Oh yeah?” Her grin was instantaneous.

  “It’s Matthew, Georgia. As in my uncle Matthew.” I swear the air thickened, as if I were underwater and struggling for breath. Her expression was stoic at first, but I watched it change slowly into shock. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a silent O.

  The silence stretched between us, and I knew that she probably was speechless. Hell, I knew I would be if the roles were reversed.

  “Pretty crazy, huh?” I was still rubbing my palms up and down my thighs, my skin underneath the denim starting to become sore.

  I swallowed, this tightness and thickness in my throat almost suffocating. I had this feeling that I had no control of the situation.

  Then again, I guess I didn’t.

  “Well,” Georgia said and leaned forward again, her focus on her hands as she stared at them for long moments. “So, this is like a real thing, right?”

  “Right.”

  Georgia started chuckling a little but it sounded awkward. “I don’t even know what to say.” She sat back again and looked to her left, watching as the girls’ soccer team practiced. “Does your dad know?” She glanced back at me and I shook my head. “Yeah, that’s probably best, but he’ll find out eventually.”

  I shook my head again.

  “Hey,” she said and reached out to place her hand on top of mine.

  I looked up at her, not realizing that I had glanced down at my lap.

  “Everything will be okay.”

  I loved her optimism, but in this moment, it wasn’t reality.

  We were silent again for long moments before she spoke again. “Does he love you back?”

  I was a little surprised by how she was taking this. Although I hadn’t expected any judgment from her, the truth was, I expected the worst. Maybe it was because of the situation and how people would perceive it. I just assumed, pictured, that’s how Georgia would react.

  I felt a small smile spread across my face as I nodded. “He does.”

  I watched as a smile formed on Georgia’s lips. The way she looked at me ... I knew what she was about to ask and I felt my cheeks heat instantly.

  “So have you, you know…?”

  With any other person I would’ve felt a little offended that they’d been so nosy, but this was Georgia. This was the first real thing I’d ever kept from her. She told me when she lost her virginity to Alex Hargrove last year in the back of his pickup truck at a bonfire. She told me when she got her first kiss in ninth grade with Michael Sanders.

  We always told each other everything, and the truth was, I wanted to tell somebody about my relationship with Matthew. And that somebody was Georgia.

  “Yeah,” I said softly and looked around, my face on fire now. I didn’t say anything else, and I could see Georgia wanted me to give more details.

  “Well?” she said a little impatiently.

  “It was…” I stared into her blue eyes and saw the excited look on her face. She rested her head in her hand.

  “Incredible? Mind blowing? Everything you’ve ever thought it would be?” she said dreamily and we both started laughing. “So how long has it been going on? Like, years?”

  I shook my head. “No, nothing physical happened until this past week. But I’ve always loved him.”

  Georgia sighed dreamily again. “It sounds so forbidden and magical. Like something out of a movie or a book.” She straightened and a serious expression covered her face. “Your dad’s going to flip his shit when you tell him.”

  All I could do was nod.

  Yeah, when he found out, flipping his shit would be putting it mildly.

  19

  Ivy

  I opened the front door, stepping in and closing it behind me. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the clock in the kitchen ticking down the time. Other than that, there was a heavy silence in the air.

  “Hello?” I looked in the living room and found it empty, then made my way into the kitchen. I could hear banging outside, and looked out the picture window by the dining room table to see Matthew working on the gazebo.

  My father had started it before he lost his job, a weekend passion project that had been put on hold after he got fired. It looked like Matthew was taking matters into his own hands on that.

  I grabbed a glass of water and moved back to the window, leaning against the frame and drinking as I watched Matthew. He was shirtless, had sweat covering his big, tattooed and muscular chest. He had to have been out there for hours to be sweating that much.

  God, that was so hot.

  I started drinking the water a little bit more until I realized it was completely empty. I focused on Matthew, the way his muscles moved under his skin, the way his biceps flexed when he lifted a piece of wood up ... was also arousing.

  I set the glass on the table and breathed out slowly, wiping a drop of water off the corner of my mouth.

  The image of his touches, his kisses, the thought of how he looked at me, this hungry expression in his eyes, like an animal hiding right before it pounced on its prey, turned me on until I felt like I’d pass out.

  And that’s how he looked at me, as if I was his very last meal and he’d consume every single part of me.
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br />   I found myself heading out back and right to the gazebo. The fencing around our backyard was high enough the neighbors couldn’t see us, but I could hear them talking, could hear the sound of bottles clanking together, could smell the scent of charcoal burning as they fired up the grill.

  The sound of Matthew bringing the hammer down was loud, echoing. And the sight of him, with his arms stretched above as he held the piece of wood and hammered a nail in, as his muscles contracted and relaxed, had me wet ... drenched.

  My panties were already damp and I felt my nipples tingle. I glanced down to see them pressing against the material of my shirt. I was breathing harder and faster the closer I got to him, the images in my mind so filthy they were making me blush.

  I stopped when I was a few feet from him. His back was so wide and broad, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his dark belt keeping them up. He had yet to realize I was right there, so close to him that if I just reached out, I could’ve dragged my fingers along his perspiration-dampened skin.

  His jeans fit him perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. They molded over his big thighs and tapered down to the dark boots he wore. I dragged my gaze back up the length of his spine and craned my neck a little bit so that I’d be able to look at his face when he turned around.

  I knew what I wanted to do in that moment, something so dirty, this exhibitionist part of me rising up. And so I took another step closer, and one more until I was just a few inches from him. I lifted my hand then and placed it on the center of his back, his flesh warm from the sun, damp from the hard work he’d been doing.

  I felt him stiffen underneath my palm, and slowly he turned to face me. He was so big, as if working out here was increasing his muscle mass by the second. I licked my lips, no words spoken between us as we stared at each other.

  And I could see the change in him, the fact he knew I was aroused, the lust moving between us so fiercely I was surprised it didn’t knock me down.