Chapter 1
What the fuck?
Carmen
I walked in on my stepson jacking off into my red shorts.
Oh. My. God!
The day had been a simple one—breakfast with the aforementioned stepson, morning run, and relaxing shower afterward. Now, I didn’t think the day would continue as planned. For one thing, I needed to talk to my stepson, preferably with his clothes on and dick concealed. Adrian was supposed to be at work with his father, not in my bedroom stroking himself with my running shorts.
And he still doesn’t know I walked in. Oh God.
Still wearing his suit and very much masturbating, Adrian’s eyes were closed as he whispered, “Oh, Carmen. Like that.”
And I stood there with nothing to say, no logical thought to lead me on. My shocked expression stared back at me in the mirror across the room. Drops dotted my dark brown skin and soaked my black hair. An astonished look was plastered on my face.
Adrian’s words came out in a low grown. “Carmen, baby.”
I turned back to him.
What the...
His eyes remained closed while he sped up his strokes. In his hand, my shorts flapped back and forth with the movement.
Okay. You can deal with this. You can do it.
Thankfully, my stepson was an adult. If he’d been a kid, then I would’ve really had problems.
“Like that.” Whispering, he worked his cock. “Just like that.”
Shame hit me as my panties moistened.
Get control of yourself, girl! This is not cool.
Unfortunately, Adrian was hot. It didn’t matter how twisted this was. To my body, a gorgeous man jacked off into my shorts and moaned my name. My hormones refused to ignore this, while my mind did its best to hush their cries for a taste.
He’s Nick’s son. Not going to happen.
My fiancé, Nick, had been as gorgeous as Adrian when he was younger. Now in his fifties, he possessed an aged elegance. Sort of like a young male actor who year by year got older on film but still entranced us despite the wrinkles outlining his features.
Adrian was a young, hot version of his dad. Social media considered him a heartthrob. His Twitter account boasted over a million followers, his Instagram and Facebook even more. Half the time, all he did was post a coming out of the shower towel pic, or a few snaps of him working in the office—jacket laid on the edge of the desk, hair waved, handsome face staring sadly out of the window. All of his posts and tweets triggered viral madness.
I should snap a freaking picture now! What would his followers say? They would probably scream for joy.
Women all over the world wanted to know the daily habits and movements of Adrian Ford—the number one most eligible bachelor on the East Coast—chiseled face, tanned skin, midnight black hair, green eyes that shifted to hazel depending on the lighting, strong build, CEO of several major corporations, and a prodigy with a priceless education. I tried not to focus on popular gossip about him. They claimed he rocked in bed. Others declared him a sexual deviant.
Well, the deviant rumors are true.
Slippery sounds ensued while Adrian, oblivious to my presence, continued to pleasure himself. And now things were getting even weirder. Instead of jumping at him to stop, I’d been standing there watching like a pervert for what was going on two minutes.
Now who’s the weirdo?
I gripped my towel and let my gaze stray to his package.
Stop it, Carmen. You shouldn’t. But... oh who cares he’s already made this moment horrific. Just get a quick look.
“Like that, baby.” Adrian shoved his big cock into his closed fists. His buttoned-down sky blue shirt crumpled up in disarray near his abs. Adrian’s gray jacket hung off his shoulders as if he’d been in a rush to take it off and then just gave up. His pants rested at his ankles, exposing muscular thighs and designer socks.
I’d never seen him so unraveled and exposed. Usually, he was an intelligent conversationalist and wicked flirt.
Not today.
In this moment, he was something else. My short’s fabric moved with his stroking. There was rhythm in each motion, so delicious. It was hard for me to look away. He’d enclosed the material around that lengthy erection and commenced to having a good ole time in my bedroom!
“Yes, Carmen. Right there. All over that pretty face. That’s where I’ll paint you.”
I could step back into the bathroom, but then... will this stop or... wait a minute. Why am I hiding? He’s the crazy person in my bedroom no less!
“Please, Carmen.” He rocked his hips back and forth, thrusting harder and harder. Sweat streamed down the side of his face. “Oh yes. Right there. Don’t play with me, baby.”
My body hummed with lust. How could it not? I had never witnessed such desire, at least not directed at me.
“I dreamed you’d feel this good,” he whispered.