Stealing Her (Covet 1)

She’d stayed.

She was loyal.

I was taking that from her without her even knowing it.

Maybe I was the villain after all.

The monster. Just like my father.

Because I wanted to take without looking back, and I was suddenly starting to think that leaving without her wasn’t an option.

Her eyes closed as she leaned in and wrapped her arms around my neck, her body pressed firm against mine, soft in all the right places. I slid my hands down to the curve of her hips and tried not to think of how good it felt, how right it felt, having her in my arms.

A lesser man would have taken her.

I needed to be more than that. Besides, even though I didn’t know her as well as he did, even though I didn’t deserve this, somehow this felt out of character for her. She’d still been somewhat shy with me. More playful, yes. More responsive when I held her at night? Absolutely, but I would have never pegged her as a seductress.

Weeks ago, she had looked like she wanted to murder me. Something wasn’t right, but I was still a guy, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“Izzy?”

“Hmm?” She started kissing my neck, her lips moving up and down my skin, leaving a trail of sensations that had me ready to black out. Was this a test? To see if I was really Julian? If I would respond?

I was suddenly worried she knew something she shouldn’t.

Something that would destroy what fragile relationship we had between us.

“I just want you to know, I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I wish—”

She stopped kissing.

“I wish that—”

She backed away. “I wish we were already married.”

“What?” It came out louder than I meant it to.

She smiled at me, and then reached for my dick.

I was going to hell.

She palmed the front of my trousers while I bit back a curse and whispered, “Izzy, don’t you want to wait until this weekend? It’s more romantic that way, and I told you, I want you willing, not because you feel like you have to.”

There was no way out of this unless he woke up.

And that was the annoying part. If he woke up, I didn’t get her, and if he didn’t, I did. I was stuck between wanting both futures.

Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “So just to be clear, you, Julian Tennyson, are turning down sex?”

I was mentally strangling myself, and my balls were in the process of removing themselves from my body, they were so disappointed in the rest of me.

I hung my head. “Yes, but only because I respect you so much.”

For the love of God, those words just came out of my mouth, didn’t they?

“And I want you to trust me,” I added.

Something shifted in her eyes when I said trust.

She smiled. “Trust, hmm? So that means you’ll tell me the truth, no matter what? From here on out?”

Fuck. “Yes.”

She smiled then, a beautiful smile, bent over, and picked up the blanket and then piped up with “I guess we should eat, then.”

My eyes narrowed. “Izzy, what’s going on?”

“Food first.” She pointed toward the bedroom. “Get comfortable, and I’ll plate everything, alright?”

“Sure.”

Something was up.

Did she know?

I stared at her a little harder.

Her look was one of complete innocence. I shook my head and went into the bedroom, shut the door, went into the bathroom, shut that one, and texted Mom on my old phone.

Me: Is it public information? That me and Julian are twins?

Mom: What?

Me: Can you google our family and see that we’re twins?

Mom: Everything about you is under the Anderson name, not Tennyson. Trust me, your father made it very easy for people to forget us, though I’m still listed as his first wife and mother of Julian. It’s hard information to find, especially with all the new Tennyson information popping up everywhere.

Me: She’s acting suspicious. Izzy.

Mom: Because you may look the same on the outside but you are two very different people on the inside. You have more of your father than I’d like to admit and Julian, well, he had a lot of me. He cares, sometimes too much. I never did understand how your father thought he could turn him into a ruthless monster.

Me: I want to still hate him.

Mom: He hurt you deeply. He hurt me as well. We hadn’t spoken to him in over a decade. It’s okay to be angry. I’d like to think he had his reasons, that he was somehow protecting us.

Me: Or he’s just selfish.

Mom: That too. Then again, that would be the pot calling the kettle black, now wouldn’t it? Who are you marrying in a few days?

I sighed and nearly dropped my phone into the toilet.

Me: I like her.

Mom: I know.

Me: Tell me what to do.

Mom: Pray he wakes up.

A knot formed in my throat. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that a part of me wanted the best of both worlds, him waking up and giving me his blessing to steal his only reason for living. My heavy thoughts consumed me as I went back to the closet and hid my phone—making a grave mistake in the process by forgetting to double-check it was on silent.