by S. C. Adams
“Yeah, definitely,” she giggles while pushing a lock of those luscious curls behind her ear. “I’ve been at college, so I’ve been away sort of. I go to Marymount, in the city.”
Suddenly we’re interrupted because Michael’s just walked into the dining room carrying a carving knife, but I hardly notice because I can’t take my eyes off of his beautiful daughter. It’s wrong to stare at Jenna, but God, she’s stunning. Her soft, plump lips are begging me to press mine against hers, and from the side, I can see deep into the vee of her sweater. Her creaminess tempts me, and my mouth waters.
This isn’t fair. She’s breathtakingly gorgeous, but I can’t touch her. Yet everything about this delectable woman makes me crave her even more. She smells like the sweetest berries mixed with a vanilla spice. I wish I could scoot my chair closer and press my nose to her hair. But that would be creepy, wouldn’t it? As well as totally inappropriate.
“Alright, who’s ready to eat?” Michael booms.
Everyone responds all at once, but my pounding heart drowns out the sound of their voices because it’s the only thing I can hear. This is crazy! Jenna’s half my age, and I’ve practically known her all of her life. She was just a kid before, but she’s a grown woman now, that’s for sure. She isn’t the same little girl hiding away in her bedroom anymore. This woman is curvaceous and confident, with big brown eyes that make me want more.
As Michael carves the turkey, I sneak a glance at Jenna from the corner of my eye, trying my best to not be obvious. She brightens and licks her lips in anticipation of the food, and that small gesture almost does me in. I want to touch my tongue to her own, not to mention taste the inside of her mouth. But I have to keep things under control. Down boy, I tell my body. This isn’t the time or place.
Yet Jenna seems mostly unaffected, save for a soft flush on her cheeks.
“Green beans?” she asks, turning with the dish in her hands.
“Yes please,” I reply as she serves a portion onto my plate. Then, I grab the bowl of mashed potatoes and help myself to some creamy spuds, avoiding eye contact with Jenna at all costs. God, I need to keep it together.
Meanwhile, others begin to talk while enjoying the food.
“So, Jenna, how are things at school?” Connie asks. The beautiful girl next to me smiles.
“Pretty good, Grandma. I did really well on my midterms a few weeks ago,” she says. “I’m really hoping for a 4.0 this semester.”
“Of course you’ll do well,” Connie says. “You’ve always been such a bright girl.” She smiles at Jenna lovingly, causing the buxom brunette to smile as well.
“Plus, I’ve found a really great internship working with the homeless here in the city. I’ll get to help those in need, and it’ll look great on my resume when I apply for jobs after graduation,” Jenna adds. “What do you think?”
I stare at her with admiration and surprise because honestly, I can’t name a single person I know that would work with the homeless. We’re in NYC, so just about everyone I know either works for a huge corporation, or Wall Street, or both. Yet Jenna’s different. She clearly has a heart made out of gold, and not only is she gorgeous on the outside, she’s beautiful on the inside too.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you,” Connie says as she turns toward her husband. “Gerald, isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yeah,” he says as he scoops cranberry sauce onto his plate. “Jenna has always been the brains of this family,” the old man chuckles, his hearty laugh filling the room.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” Jenna blushes, but before she can get another word out, she’s interrupted by her sister Natalie.
“I’m going to be in my school’s fashion show in a few weeks,” Natalie proclaims brightly, flinging her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “It’s going to be awesome.”
“Well, you’re certainly very pretty,” Connie encourages. Natalie nods.
“Thanks, Grandma. I’ll be wearing the most expensive outfit in the show because I’m the only one skinny enough to fit in it,” Natalie brags, shaking her hair again. “Again: awesome!”
Jenna silently pours gravy onto her mashed potatoes, seemingly unbothered by Natalie’s boastful manner. It’s almost as if she’s used to her sister’s rudeness, and somehow, it doesn’t irritate her. The women I’m used to would be annoyed, by contrast; in fact, they would’ve told the blonde off. Instead, Jenna handles the situation with grace, and I can’t help but admire her for it.
“That’s lovely, dear,” Connie murmurs. “A fashion show! How fun!”
It amazes me that Jenna doesn’t bother to compete for attention. She may be a shy girl, but it takes a certain amount of confidence to remain calm when someone else steals the spotlight. Damn, I’m even more attracted to her now than I was before. Jenna might be young, but she’s clearly mature with excellent judgment.
As dinner continues, the conversations become more animated as everyone catches up. Natalie and Kendrick are boisterous and loud, while Jenna is mysterious and alluring with her quiet voice and unassuming chitchat. Holy shit. I eat while talking and laughing with the other guests, but the whole time, I’m completely aware of her. Our elbows bump a few times, and my body hardens from just those few touches. Suddenly, Leanne’s cheery voice interrupts.
“Anyone in the mood for dessert?” our hostess asks brightly.
Although our stomachs are full, just about everyone’s eyes light up at the mention of a sweet treat to complete our meal. The other guests are craving homemade apple pie, but I’m craving something else entirely. I watch with avid eyes as the curvy girl gets up from the table to help her mother in the kitchen. Her hips sway from side to side, hypnotizing me, and my thoughts begin to drift again.
Jenna needs a man like me, one who knows how to handle her luscious assets. A body like that wasn’t made for guys her age because they wouldn’t know how to please her. But I do. I’ll touch her in her secret places until she’s begging and pleading for more. I’ll put her thighs around my head as she creams mightily into my mouth. Then, I’ll push her legs up, baring that sweet slit, and claim her so thoroughly that she forgets her name altogether. Oh shit. I’ve really lost it and I’ve got to stop this. After all, Jenna’s a natural beauty with a gorgeous buxom figure to match, but I shouldn’t want her this way. It’s wrong. I know better than to give into my deepest desires.
However, I’m also a man who gets what he wants and as the beautiful brunette comes out of the kitchen with an apple pie in hand, all my resolutions fly out of the window. Her lush breasts are eye level with the pie, and my mouth waters. I have to taste her, and to feel those hard nipples between my lips. I need to sample the nectar between her thighs, and as she glances at me, sparks sizzle in the air again. Suddenly, I realize that Jenna wants it too, and it’s game on for both of us.
5
Jenna
Oh gosh, I still feel tingly all over from sitting next to Uncle Drake during dinner. I tried my best not to stare at him, but it was impossible to keep my eyes off of him for too long. He’s completely irresistible, and my heart throbbed inside of my chest as we spoke briefly at the dinner table. I thought it was about to explode, but luckily, dinner ended before it could.
I gaze at him one last time as he and the rest of our guests head into the living room to watch a football game. He disappears in the crowd, and I’m left in the dining room alone, collecting the dirty dishes. Since Mom did all of the cooking, I figured it was only right that I clean up after everyone. I stack the plates on top of one another and carry them into the kitchen.
A roar comes from the living room as our guests cheer on one of the teams playing in the game. I place the dirty fine china into the sink and rinse each plate off before carefully soaping and drying them. Another reason I volunteered to clean up was to escape Uncle Drake’s magnetic form. Being in the same room with him drives my senses crazy.
Everything about him is sexy! His eyes, his muscular frame, the way he laughs,
his successful career, everything! My heart is still pounding from locking eyes with him. I could stare into those piercing blue irises all day long, never once getting tired of them. I nearly fainted as our hands grazed one another, sending tingles throughout my body. I hope he didn’t notice how red my cheeks got. I don’t want him to think I’m weird for having a crush on him.
I wish the line between what’s right and what’s wrong wasn’t so blurry. He’s like an uncle to me, but there’s absolutely no blood relation between us, so a romantic relationship between the two of us technically wouldn’t be wrong. But my family would never approve of it. It would probably shatter my parents’ hearts if anything ever did happen between us, and God only knows what it would do to my grandparents.
The entire foundation of our family would be shaken. That’s why I have to stay as far away from him as possible. I’ve made it through dinner, and now there are only a couple more hours until he leaves and disappears until the next major holiday. I get anxious before every family function, wondering whether or not he’s going to be there while secretly hoping he makes it to every last one just so I can see him.
I drive myself insane as I pine for him, hoping that one day he will tell me that he’s secretly in love with me too. I know that day will never come, but a girl can fantasize, right? He has no idea that my heart beats for him and that late at night, I lie awake thinking of him, longing to be cradled in his arms. If he knew, he’d probably think I was crazy. After all, you have to be pretty nuts to fall in love with your uncle.
My feelings for him developed on Christmas a few years ago when he sent me a teen romance novel when I was in high school. He couldn’t make it to Grandma and Grandpa’s house that year, but he sent gifts anyway. I read that novel from cover to cover, not only falling in love with the hero, but also falling in love with Uncle Drake because everything about the hero reminded me of my uncle, from his icy blue eyes to his alpha male persona. It was the first time I ever touched myself, and shamefully, it was my uncle’s face I imagined before my eyes as I cried out and climaxed for the first time.
Drake continued to send me romance novels year after year, and each one I read made me want him more. I envisioned the two of us in each love story, hoping that he would rush into my bedroom and whisk me away. It sounds silly, but I thought the novels were his way of telling me that he felt the same way I do.
Unfortunately, they were just gifts with no hidden meaning behind them. I was never into cosmetics and fashion like Natalie, but I’ve always loved reading. My parents must’ve told him that I’ll take a book over a makeup palette any day; that’s the only way he could’ve known. He’s never really paid much attention to me, but then again, I was always hiding whenever he came around.
As I place the last few plates into the drying rack, I hear footsteps behind me. It’s probably Mom coming to see if I need any help cleaning up. Slowly, I turn around and find Uncle Drake standing behind me, casually holding an empty wine glass. I gulp as I admire his bulging arms in the navy blue sweater he’s wearing. It’s alright if I look; I just can’t touch.
He glances at me, those crystal blue irises piercing right through me. I’m frozen from his stare, completely caught in a trance. I wonder if he has any clue about the effect his gorgeous eyes have on me. My hands begin to tremble, so I hold tighter onto the fine china dish in my grasp. He slowly walks over, stopping a mere few inches away.
The scent of his cologne drives me wild. I have half a mind to toss the plate onto the floor and run my hands along his solid body, caressing each muscle. I hold my breath as he extends his hand toward me and then pauses before reaching behind me to grab a bottle of wine. He stares into my eyes as he refills his glass, managing not to spill a single drop.
I’m still frozen, unable to move, and more than likely looking like a complete dunce. He takes a sip of the wine, our eyes still locked, but neither of us utters a single word. Another roar comes from the living room. Everyone else seems to be consumed by the football game and unaware that we’re in the kitchen alone together. He places the wine glass onto the counter next to him and then reaches for the plate in my hands.
“Let me help you with that,” he says as he takes the fine china from my grasp.
My hands begin to tremble again, and this time, there’s no way to hide it. I clasp my quivering palms together as he places the dish onto the rack. Then, his strong hand grips the hot water knob, and he slowly turns it, allowing warm liquid to gush from the faucet. He picks up another plate and rinses it off before placing it onto the rack.
Holy cow, he looks so sexy doing the dishes. He’s a manly man who doesn’t mind doing a little housework, and he looks hot being domestic. Usually, I would want to flee from the kitchen, but right now, there isn’t a single place I’d rather be. I’ve never had a single second alone with Drake in my entire life, so I’m relishing in this moment a bit.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“It’s no problem at all,” he replies, his deep baritone voice sending a thrill down my spine. “It’s the least I can do. You shouldn’t be stuck in here cleaning up all by yourself.”
“I don’t mind, really. Besides, I’m not much of a football fan,” I admit.
“I remember. Whenever the rest of the family was watching the game, you’d be off somewhere in a corner reading a book,” he says as he rinses off a handful of silverware.
I thought he never noticed me, but it looks like he’s been paying attention to me all along. It was always much easier to let Natalie and Kendrick be the center of attention while I kept quiet in a corner with a book. Natalie’s always doing something to get everyone’s eyes on her, and Kendrick naturally gets noticed because he’s the only boy. While the two of them were fighting over our parents’ attentions, I was always off doing my own thing.
“Thanks again for sending me all of those novels every Christmas,” I say graciously.
“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed them,” he says with a warm smile as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.
“I did,” I say, trying not to sound too eager.
“Good, I’m glad. I wasn’t sure whether or not you were into romance novels. I was kind of just taking a guess,” he says as he chuckles, his laugh bringing a smile to my face.
“I like them a lot,” I say. “It sounds silly, but something about them makes me feel like I’m the one falling in love with the handsome hero.”
“I don’t think that’s silly at all,” he says as he gazes into my eyes. Oh no. My heart’s racing again, beating a mile a minute. “You’re a beautiful woman, and someday, a guy is going to come and sweep you off of your feet, just like the heroes in your favorite romance novels do.”
My pulse speeds up. I feel like I’m about to burst again. I can’t believe he just called me beautiful! I’m sure my cheeks are a crimson red right now because my body feels warm all over. He doesn’t have a clue that he’s the one my heart aches for. He’s the hero I’ve been fantasizing about for years.
“You really think so?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.
“I know so. I’m sure a beautiful, smart girl like you probably has a bunch of guys vying for your attention,” he says, wearing a sexy smirk.
“There are a few,” I giggle. “But none of them are man enough for me.”
“Really?” he asks, quirking a black brow.
“Yeah. I want someone sophisticated, not the childish boys lurking around campus,” I say confidently.
“Well, you’ve always been mature for your age,” he remarks.
“You think so?” I ask.
“I know so,” he says, taking a step toward me.
The sizzling air between us creates an undeniable steam. I could be wrong, but it feels like Uncle Drake is flirting with me. But I must be imagining the vibe I feel between us because there’s no way he would be interested in me. After all, I’m like a niece to him. Taboo. Totally off-limits.
“Thanks,” I mutter, trying to hide my bl
ushing cheeks.
“I mean it,” Drake says, his eyes staring intensely at me. Oh gosh, it’s almost as if they have a hold on my heart. The look in his eyes draws me toward him, making it impossible to break free from his gaze. “It seems like you’ve grown up to be an amazing woman.”
“Thanks, Uncle Drake.” My voice quivers as the words flow from my mouth. I can’t stop staring at his lips. My heart begs me to lean in and kiss him, but my mind advises me otherwise.
“I still can’t believe you’re in college,” he comments.
“Yeah, time flew by,” I giggle.
“What are you studying?” he asks.
“I haven’t picked a major yet, but I’m thinking about studying sociology,” I say.
“Sociology? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that before,” he says dryly. I can’t help giggling, and to my surprise, he laughs too.
“It’s the study of societies and how people interact within those societies,” I explain.
“Isn’t that the same as anthropology?” he asks.
“Kind of.” I giggle again. “Anthropology is the study of people, but it focuses more on culture as opposed to the social world, like sociology does. But the two areas definitely overlap. There’s actually a sub-branch called social anthropology which takes into account both areas of study.” I pause as I glance up into his eyes. “Sorry. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all,” he denies as he shakes his head. “I like listening to you explain the difference between the two. I’m impressed by the big words you’re using.” He chuckles again, causing laughter to flow from my lips as well.
“They’re not big words,” I assure him. “They’re just small words with an -ology added to the end of them.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do well in whatever major you choose. You’ve always been a bright girl,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling from ear to ear.