Chapter Two
RILEY
My house is packed with familiar faces, all wanting to catch my attention and get stuck in a conversation.
I don’t have time for that, not when The Ox is coming to visit.
I’m ready for his arrival and I want to be the first person he sees when he walks through the door.
When my dad goes outside, I know he’s arrived.
Everyone else is already here, so it has to be Zeke.
My heart’s pounding in an awkward rhythm, and my breathing grows more unsteady by the second.
I’m standing by the stairs, right in front of the front door, ready for him.
I can’t stop myself from pulling my polka-dot tube top lower, accentuating my cleavage.
I giggle at how silly I’m being. The Ox is my uncle.
Sure, we’re not blood-related, but he’s not going to feel the same way.
That doesn’t stop my mind from going places it shouldn’t. If anything, it just gets me more fired up. If I wasn’t wearing a strapless bra under the tube top, my nipples would be threatening to tear straight through the fabric.
“Hey, Sweetie,” a voice comes from behind me, and I nearly jump. It’s Grace, holding two drinks in her hands.
“Hey, Aunt Grace,” I reply, and she hands me a glass. Grace tucks a strand of her short, dark chocolate hair behind an ear. She’s giving me a smile as if she knows, and I feel heat flood my cheeks.
“You know the old saying, right? A watched pot never boils?” she winks at me, and I feel almost deflated.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’re practically drooling,” Grace chuckles. “But it’s cute, so who cares?”
“How did you know?” I groan.
Grace waves a hand up and down as if saying, look at you. I didn’t think my cheeks could get any hotter.
“But you know what they say? The way to a man’s heart is modesty,” Grace grabs the tube top at the sides, pulling it up to hide most of the cleavage. “There, that’s better.”
“You won’t tell my mom, will you?” I ask, giving Grace the puppy dog eyes.
“If I did, Hayley would chop Zeke’s balls off and put them in her purse. We can’t have that, can we?” Grace laughs, and so do I.
While we are talking, I miss the door opening. By the time I realize what’s happening, it’s too late. The Ox is standing in front of me, with my dad at his side. I swear my eyes widen painfully trying to take him all in.
“Gracie, there’s my favorite sister,” Zeke wraps his arms around Grace’s shoulder.
Grace scoffs. “I’m your only sister.”
“Exactly,” Zeke smiles. It’s a charming, devilish smile that sends butterflies through my stomach.
“H… hi, Uncle Zeke,” the words come out in an awkward stammer.
“Hey, Sugar-Plum,” he says. Sugar-plum, I like it. He brings me in for a hug and engulfs my tiny frame in his massive one. I hug him back, and when he tries pulling away, I hold him there for an extra few seconds. Long after it should’ve become awkward.
“I’m gonna grab a drink. Anyone needs anything?” Zeke asks.
“I’m good,” Grace replies. “But Monty, can I pull you away for a second? Something urgent came up, and I need your expert eyes to handle it.” I don’t know if Grace is trying to help me or if there really was a work emergency.
Lately, there’s always something going on with the family business, so there’s no surprise there.
Still, it’s ridiculous to think she’d actually help me get with my uncle, her brother, and a man nearly three decades older than me.
“Me and Zeke were about to pour a glass of bourbon. Can it wait until—“
“Let’s save the hard stuff until we’re done with the meeting, yeah?” Zeke cuts in before Dad can finish his sentence.
“I guess you’re right,” Dad sighs, handing Zeke the box containing the bourbon bottle. “Mind taking this through for me?”
“Sure,” Zeke replies. As quickly as everyone appears, they’re gone again, and I’m alone in the entryway once more.
I watch as Zeke makes his way through the house, shaking hands with everyone along his path, saying his hellos until he dips out of sight and into the kitchen.
Damn, there goes my chance. That was my one opportunity to wow him, and now it’s gone. What was I thinking? I’ll always be a little girl to Zeke, and never the woman I’ve become…
No, screw that.
I follow Zeke’s path to the kitchen, adjusting my outfit a little with every step.
I pull my skirt a little higher, and the tube top a little lower, the way the website said might help pick up a man.
I’ve never done anything this brash and brazen, but I rarely get to see Zeke these days.
He’s always away on business trips, and I’m not going to miss my opportunity.
Not again. At least this time I’ll know for sure if Zeke doesn’t notice me the way I hope he will.
I want to see him again; that slab of muscle in a tight, black shirt, with his scarred face, and tattooed arms. I’d kill to see him smile because of me.
I walk into the kitchen after adjusting my outfit as best I can on my way. There isn’t much time to check, but I can feel a breeze between my legs, so I guess the skirt’s high enough.
“Hey, Uncle Zeke,” I say, walking in. He’s got a bottle of cola in one hand and a glass in the other. What are the chances that, with so many people in the house, Zeke would end up alone in the kitchen? I have to thank my lucky stars for this, and I’m not going to waste the opportunity.
“Hey, Sugar-Plum. What’s up?” Zeke’s voice is deep and smooth and it makes every part of me yearn for him even more.
“That wasn’t much of a hello out there. I wanted it to be a little different,” I can see his eyes wandering down my body. They lock onto my chest, before moving lower, to my skirt. When I look at myself, I see I’ve pulled them high enough for my pink lace panties to be sticking out.
Zeke can’t break his stare. I move closer to him at the counter, slowly, trying my best to look seductive. After a considerable time, too long to pass off his gaze as fleeting, Zeke shakes his head and looks away.
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“Don’t have to what?”
“Look away. I want you to look at me, lick your lips, drool over me…” I pause, feeling a little foolish.
I’ve flirted in the past, but it’s never been like this…
Not with someone I’ve had an actual interest in.
I grab my skirt, and almost tug it up to give him the full view, but decide against it.
I’ve come this far. One more push and I’ll know for sure.
I’ve gotten too close for him to be able to see my panties, but he accepts my invitation, his eyes returning to my cleavage.
“What are you—“ Before Zeke can finish his sentence, I lift a finger and place it over his lips. He’s not fighting me, not when I shush him, nor when I pull myself between him and the kitchen counter.
I can’t tell if he’s just going along with it because it’s uncomfortable for him or if he’s into it, but the way he’s licking his lips at the sight of my tits makes me believe the latter.
I let my fingers trail over his stomach, slipping between the grooves of his chiseled six-pack before hooking into the waistband of his pants. There’s no going back now. I’ve committed too much.
With our height difference, I can feel his erection brushing against my stomach. My pulse quickens, and Zeke’s breathing does the same. His head tilts down, and his hands wrap around me on the counter. I’ve got one shot, and I’m not going to mess it up.
“I’ve just missed you so much, Uncle Zeke,” I whisper. “I wanted to make you feel welcome, comfortable…”
“You’re doing a pretty fine job of that,” Zeke chuckles. “But you shouldn’t be doing this.”
His words rattle me. It’s as if I’ve lost, and I suddenly feel deflated and defeated. Still, Zeke’s not pulling away. The Ox is standing on command.
“Do you like what you see?” I ask. Using my upper arms, I squeeze my breasts together, enhancing my cleavage.
I already know the answer as his hard bulge is jabbing at me.
I can see he’s trying to speak, probably to deter me again, but I won’t allow it.
Before he can get a word out, I slide my hand further down, and grab his cock over his jeans.
Zeke lets out a groan, his eyes shoot wide open and he nearly topples over. I tug him through his pants, back and forth. Zeke raises a hand and wags a finger at me. His knuckles are purple with healing scars.
Again, before he can speak, I suck his finger into my mouth, rolling my tongue over it. I never break eye contact with him, gently grazing and nibbling it.
“Where the hell is Ezekiel?” I hear Grace’s voice coming from outside the kitchen.
No! I had him under my spell, literally wrapped around my fingers, and now it’s slipping away. Zeke isn’t even fighting it, either. As much as he tries, he’s helpless. And now it’s all gone. What cruel fate is this?
Zeke pulls himself away from me, and I try to straighten up as quickly as possible. My heart sinks as we shift further apart from one another. I already miss his massive form looming over me. It’s almost empty without him against me.
“In here, Grace, what’s up?” Zeke shouts back.
Grace steps into the kitchen and looks between Zeke and me.
“Family meeting’s starting. Let’s get to it. No time to waste,” she says. There’s no suspicion in her eyes or her voice. Why would there be? Just because she knows I’m crushing on Zeke doesn’t mean he’d ever allow it, especially not in a house full of work colleagues.
Grace doesn’t hang around, though, and she moves on to call whoever else is needed for the family meeting. Zeke opens his mouth, lets out a huff, grabs his soda, and walks off.
At least I know, now.
That was a win.