Falling for My Dirty Uncle

“Nah, it’s a boy. I can feel it,” he tells me, a smile on his lips.

We decided against knowing beforehand if it’s going to be a boy or a girl, but now we find ourselves betting on who’s right. I tease Magnus by telling him it’s going to be a girl but, deep down, I think he’s right - there’s a miniature Magnus growing inside of me.

“Did you know everything would turn out the way it did?” I find myself asking him, looking at him with a gentle smile. He smiles right back and, leaning toward me, brushes his lips softly against mine.

“I didn’t have the slightest clue,” he shrugs. “I just knew I wouldn’t leave your side, come hell or high water.” Without saying a word, I reach for his hand and squeeze it in mine; this time I’m the one leaning in toward me, planting a kiss on his lips.

“I love you so much,” I whisper, feeling the warm summer breeze caress my skin.

“So do I,” he replies, softly pushing me out of my stretcher and taking it for him. He pulls me into his lap then, and I swing my legs over his, my arms laced around his neck.

We sit there in silence, the steady chirping of crickets filling the atmosphere around us. Closing my eyes, I press my head against his chest and take a deep breath. Sometimes happiness is as easy as this - one smile, one kiss, one hug. And, with Magnus by my side, happiness has never been any easier.

If I had to describe my life with one word right now, I know exactly which one I’d use.

Felicità.

Buyer’s Market

A Billionaire + Virgin Dark Fairytale

By Dark Angel

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work intended for adults only.

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Emmaline

“You can’t trust an academic website to tell you what you need to know about your professor!” Delia says, swinging the hand off her hip to grab my laptop. She snatches it and sits next to me on my bed.

“What?” I raise my hands and cock my head to the side, getting sassy about her just grabbing my laptop.

Delia raises her eyebrows until her forehead crinkles. She’s bringing as much sass as I am today. “You have to Google that shit, Facebook stalk, etc.,” Delia lifts a hand up from her frantic typing and waves her hand. “Otherwise you’re not going to find the real deal — and I hear there are some real treasures at our school, if ya know what I mean,” Delia says, waggling her eyebrows.

“That’s … well,” I don’t really know what to say back to that. I knew that Delia had plenty of boyfriends since I’d known her, but I wasn’t so sure that I would ever consider the teachers part of the dating pool. I started thinking about how weird it would be. I mean, staying up to date on reading is hard enough, how would you date someone who knew you stayed up too late in the library getting more sources for your latest paper? Weird. Not that I knew what to do with a normal boyfriend. That’s why I’m boyfriend-less and pretty much cool with it. Delia does not make me jealous with the fools she messes around with anyway.

Delia’s eyes go wide. “Wow, he’s fine as hell. And I bet if he reads poetry and shit, well that’s bound to give you a lady boner—“

I can’t let her finish, and I grab my computer back. We were supposed to be going over our schedules to find out details about our classes, and see what teachers were like as far as grading went. “Oh my God!” Delia makes everything about sex sometimes, but then I look at the screen.

Delia is right, though. Professor Ethan Wesley. I don’t think I’ve ever imagined anything more attractive than that man sitting at the edge of a desk and reading poetry. I think I'm actually getting a little wet at the idea. If I tell Delia she’ll never let me live it down, but I mean, she’s my friend so I have to give her something. “Well, actually, he’s …” I have no idea what to say.

“He’s fucking fine as hell, and girl your face is bright red. I guess old guys are your type. I don’t blame you, not with this man,” Delia says laughing.

I realize where I recognize that name. My freshman year my mom told me about him, said she had an old friend who worked at the school and said maybe I’d take some of his classes. Oh God.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Delia says. She shuts my laptop and holds my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Too hot for you, babe?”

I laugh nervously and squeeze her hand back. I think I’m actually sweating a little bit. “Umm, yeah, he’s hot. He was my mom’s friend though so that’s super weird. I mean, he’s already my teacher … and my mom’s friend … so it's weird that he’s hot but like—“

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