Falling for My Dirty Uncle

I could. But I think I’ll use this animosity for my own nefarious purposes. If I play my cards right, I could be riding Owen’s twelve-inch monster of a dick before the stroke of midnight.

“Here’s a thought, dear brother,” Owen sneers. “Maybe if you and Carol never had this ‘whirlwind romance’ that’s merely five weeks old, some of your extended, estranged family members would have had a chance to meet her and her adult offspring.”

Owen made a point to emphasize a few keywords, and I’m not crazy, right? Owen just made it pretty fucking clear that he’s more than fine with picking up where Carl and Carol so rudely interrupted.

“You’re a pig,” Carl says. “Everyone under this roof knows the lurid acts you’ve been indulging in since you arrived.”

“‘Lurid acts’?” Owen snorts. “You sound like a repressed Methodist preacher. And we both know you do not live in a glass house.”

“You just fucked your niece!” Carl yells back. “You can hardly claim the moral high ground.”

“Okay, first, we didn’t fuck,” Owen says. “All she did was suck my dick. Expertly, I might add.”

“If this is you helping,” I say as my face turns bright red. “Please stop.”

Carl turns to my mom and says, “Is this the result of your stellar parenting? A slut of a daughter who blows a guy she just met?”

Before I can regain the wind knocked out of me from Carl’s hurtful words, Owen crosses the room in an instant, landing a punch across Carl’s chin.

By the way, Stepdad Dearest crumples from the hit, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting it. I don’t think any of us were. Not even Owen, by the stunned way he’s looking at me.

“You can jump in here anytime, Mom.”

“Honestly, Mira, how can I defend what you did?”

“You’re right,” I say, more resigned than anything. “After all these years, I should know to come to my own defense. We both know you’re never going to do it. You’re hardly the maternal type.”

Carl has grabbed a towel from the bathroom and is holding it on his chin.

There’s an evil part of me that’s hoping the happy couple hasn’t taken their official photos yet. Having his swollen, bruised chin captured forever in their wedding pictures would make this shitty situation a little bit better.

Having Owen pull me out of here, so he can fuck me all night long would make it a lot better.

“Is it not maternal to do everything she can to save your business?” Carl asks.

“My business doesn’t need saving,” I correct the wimp of a man. “Far from it. It’s in expansion mode.”

“Ah, yes, that’s why you need money from me,” Carl sneers.

“As I recall, I presented you with an opportunity to invest in my business, and you agreed that it was a smart business decision.”

“That was before I saw this particularly seedy side of you, Mira,” Carl says, still holding the towel to his chin. “Now I’m thinking that investing my money in your little lingerie project wouldn’t look good. I’d hate to be associated with this

relationship.”

Carl punctuates the last part by dismissively waving his hands between me and Owen.

Carl starts pacing back and forth, literally puffing out his chest as he starts to realize the power he’s wielding.

Power over me, unfortunately.

“I could be persuaded to keep my promise and become your angel investor on one condition,” Carl says.

I lean back on the table, almost knocking over the bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in the ice bucket.

I briefly consider popping open the bottle and taking a few big gulps. I could use a stiff drink. I could use a stiff something, at least, and by the looks of Owen standing a few feet from me, even in the midst of all this family drama, it wouldn’t take much to get him stiff.

And as soon as this shit show is over, I intend to find out exactly what it would take. In the meantime, I’m enjoying staring at him lasciviously and watching him check out my body in return.