Dreamed? Me? Okay. This has to stop.
Yet, I chanced another glance at that lovely cock.
It was wrong.
I knew this about myself, understood that sometimes the most dangerous or twisted situations got me hot and bothered. And that lovely tool in his hands represented a masterpiece. Most thought that women waited outside of Adrian’s door, dropped to their knees, widened their hungry mouths, and sucked his cock anytime he craved it.
I knew the truth. Although Adrian had fans, he remained in his father’s mansion writing, reading, and spending his few private moments chatting it up with me. I figured he hung out with me in order to bump into his father, Nick, a man who’d been pretty distant with the both of us lately.
Okay, Carmen. The show is over. Stop this madness.
I gripped the towel that was wrapped around my wet body.
What do I say? Hey, buddy. Are you done? Do you need some privacy? Yes? Then go in your room with this mess!
I'd just taken those shorts off after running and jumped into the shower. Even worse, I had no idea Adrian had still been home.
None of that mattered, he shouldn't have been in my bedroom doing this.
Sure, he flirted more than he should have for a stepson. At times, it seemed like his flirting had gone into full gear once his father proposed to me.
I don’t need this right now.
Adrian masturbating in my room couldn’t have come at a worse time. I’d stupidly rushed into a relationship with his father. We’d barely known each other for a month before Nick got on one knee and asked me to be his wife.
Nick was fifty and I was thirty-five. Another month went by, and Nick moved me into his mansion with him and his son, Adrian, who’d just finished Harvard’s graduate business program. Now we were three months into the relationship and Nick barely came home at night. Meanwhile, his son remained by my side every minute...flirting.
I’d planned on talking to Nick about slowing our whole situation down.
Now we’ll have to talk about his son, too. Anyway, I have to stop this.
“Out now!” I yelled. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Fuck.” Adrian opened his eyes, their color shifting from green to hazel then right back to green as if his emotions directed the shades.
“You can’t do this.” I hugged myself and made sure to keep the towel up on my body. “This is insane.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Fuck.” Cursing to himself some more, he rushed to zip up his pants while gripping my shorts in his hand. “I may have lost my mind a little bit.” He raised his hands.
“You did lose your mind.”
He grimaced. “I can explain.”
“I doubt that.”
“Fuck.” He stuffed that big cock back into his pants but never let go of those shorts. “Carmen, you must think I’m crazy. I'm so sorry for... doing this in your room. I mean. This is...”
I decided to help him out. “Inappropriate. Creepy. Wrong. Disrespectful. Immoral. Disgusting. Have I said perverted yet?”
He cleared his throat. “No, not yet.”
“And this is just too much. Flirting with me occasionally until I have to tell you to chill out is one thing. Masturbating in my bedroom like a madman is a whole other animal.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Madman?”
I opened my mouth in shock. “Are you trying to say this is the action of a normal man?”
“Good point.” He zipped up his pants.
“Enough is enough.” I pointed at him and stepped into my bedroom. “You're my stepson.”
“Look I’m sorry, but...”
“But what?”
“I’m not your stepson. Let’s stay in reality.”
“You will be my stepson when your father and I marry.”
“Fine, but I’m not your stepson in the traditional sense. I’m not a child.”
“You’re young.”
“I'm ten years younger than you.” He pointed at me. “You’re thirty-five. I’m twenty-five.”
“You’re young, Adrian.”
“It’s not like you’ll be taking me to soccer practice.”
“That’s beyond irrelevant. Stop changing the subject.”
“Hey.” He raised his hands. “I’m not saying I’m not a douchebag for doing this. I’m just saying I’m not as much of a douchebag. There are levels to this.”
“Levels?”
He tucked his wrinkled shirt into his pants. “We're both adults, and let's face it. I doubt there will be a marriage between my dad and you. Even worse, if anyone is fucking a child it’s my dad who’s fifty to your incredibly young thirty-five years old.”
My chest burned with rage while my heart broke a little inside. There was nothing I hated more than having the hard truths of my love life thrown in my face. “Fuck you, Adrian.”
“You just saw me fucking your shorts.” He stuffed the garment into his back pocket. “Are you sure you want to say fuck you to me right now?”
“Get out of my room!”
Sighing, he bit his lip. “Okay. I know you want me to leave, but can we discuss this first?”