Filthy Uncle To Go: A Forbidden Romance Page 2
“I’m glad to hear your daughter’s doing well at Marymount,” I say.
Leanne nods enthusiastically.
“Me too. Jenna loves living on campus, and she’s even made a few good friends. It’s perfect because now Natalie has a room all to herself. The girls hated sharing a room back in the day. You know how teenage girls are,” she says with a wink.
The truth is, I don’t know how teenage girls are at all. Do they read Tiger Beat and braid their hair? I really have no idea.
“Yeah, they can be a handful,” I say, just to be polite.
“How are things with you?” Leanne inquires. “You doing okay, Drake?”
“Pretty good. My company’s roaring along, as usual.” But before I can continue, a timer rings from the kitchen, and Leanne starts.
“Sorry, I think the turkey is finally done,” she says before scurrying off. “We’ll talk later okay?”
It’s fine. I can’t expect my hostess to talk only to me the entire party. I look around the living room, searching for a familiar face, but I don’t recognize most of the other guests. Walking around the living room, I try to eavesdrop on the conversations going on around me, hoping I hear that sweet voice from the intercom again. Where could she have disappeared to? Perhaps the kitchen. I take a step in that direction, but before I can go any farther, a familiar voice interrupts my quest.
“Drake? Is that you?” I glance over to my right and see Gerald and Connie, my late wife’s parents, sitting on the couch smiling at me. “I thought that was you,” the old man says. I walk over to him as he slowly stands up, both hands on his lower back.
“Hey, Gerald. How are you?” I ask.
“Alive, so that’s something,” he chuckles. He hugs me tightly, then releases me from his grasp.
“Connie, you look beautiful as always,” I say as I lean in and hug the older woman.
“Thank you, Drake,” she smiles. “It’s so nice to see you again. How long has it been?”
“Too long,” Gerald interjects.
“I’m glad to see you’re both doing well,” I say. Both of them have always been in good shape for their age. They’re in their seventies, but they don’t have nearly as many health issues as other retirees their age. Meanwhile, Gerald swings his arm around my shoulder as he pulls me in close.
“Neither one of us is ready to kick the bucket yet,” he jokes. “Isn’t that right, Con?”
His wife merely laughs merrily while patting his arm.
“Ignore my husband, Drake. How have you been? We’ve missed you so much. We didn’t see you at our Labor Day picnic this year,” Connie says.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I missed it. I was away on business, taking care of a few things in Japan,” I fib lightly.
“Well, I’m just glad you made it today. It’s always so good to see you,” she says as she holds my hand between both of hers.
“It’s good to see you too,” I reply, my words trailing off as I catch a glimpse of a gorgeous brunette helping Leanne set the dinner table. My heart skids to a stop. Could this be the woman who answered the intercom? But since when do guests help set the table?
I don’t recognize her, but her beauty makes my heart race in a way it’s never done before. God, the woman’s absolutely stunning with soft, bouncy chestnut curls and a curvaceous frame. She bends over the table slightly, which causes her sweater to rise and reveal her ample bottom and thick thighs. Shit, I shouldn’t be staring at another woman while I’m talking to my late wife’s parents, but dammit, I can’t take my eyes off of this gorgeous gal. She looks real, and not like the plastic ones I meet in my life.
I catch a glimpse of her face and my heart races. Shit, she’s young, that’s for certain. Her skin is creamy and flawless, with big brown eyes, a heart shaped chin, and lush, pink lips. Generous, plush breasts press against her sweater, the tantalizing vee between them making my mouth water. Who is this woman? She’s teasing me without even trying, her plump, luscious bottom mesmerizing me as she circles the table, setting down silverware.
Suddenly, she lets out a laugh at something Leanne has said, and glances to the left, only to catch me staring at her. The heat is immediate. A flush rises on those pink cheeks and I feel myself beginning to harden with instant arousal. Oh shit. All this from just a look?
“Drake, is everything okay?” Connie asks with total innocence. Shit, I completely forgot I was just in the middle of a conversation with the elderly couple. I nod and answer in what I hope is a normal tone.
“Yeah, sorry. My mind must have drifted,” I lie. “What was that again?”
Connie merely chortles.
“You’re probably just hungry, dear,” she says with a smile. “I can’t focus on anything either, with the smell of turkey in the room. Why don’t we move to the dining table? I think it’s time to eat.”
I say something inane and look for the buxom brunette again, but she’s disappeared. Nonetheless, I know she won’t be gone for long. It’s only a matter of time before I introduce myself for what I hope will be an evening of flirtation, leading to a passionate night of pleasure in my bed.
3
Jenna
My body goes warm as I stare into Drake’s piercing blue eyes. Does he know who I am? Does he realize that it’s me, little Jenna Miller? Then again, that possibility is unlikely because usually when Uncle Drake comes around, I rush into my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I’ve been a nerd for so long that I get nervous around anyone this handsome, even if he’s technically family.
But my feelings just can’t be helped. Ever since my junior year of high school, I’ve had the biggest crush on Drake. I’ve never told anyone, though. I mean, how could I? Technically, he isn’t really my uncle since I’m adopted and he married into the Millers, but my feelings toward him are still taboo.
I know it shouldn’t be like this, but I can’t help myself. After all, Drake Morgan is gorgeous, hands down. He’s at least six three, with black as night hair, blue eyes, and the build of an Olympic swimmer. I’ve dreamed of losing myself in those strong arms more often than I’d like to admit, and secretly fantasize about him at the most inopportune moments.
But who am I kidding? He used to be married to my Aunt Naomi, and I’m such a naughty girl for even having these thoughts. But it’s been years since Naomi died in a car accident, so I wonder what Drake’s been up to. Working hard, certainly, but does he date? I snort. Of course he does. A man this handsome isn’t exactly sitting at home twiddling his thumbs. I bet he’s got a line of ladies parked outside his door, only too happy to give him whatever he wants.
But still, this attraction. What do I do? In the past, I would have run to my bedroom to hide from Uncle Drake’s gaze, but my sister Natalie claimed the room after I left for college. Now, there’s nowhere for me to hide, short of locking myself in the bathroom, and I can’t do that all night.
But does Drake even recognize me? I know I’ve changed a lot. I used to be a dorky girl with Coke-bottle glasses and frizzy brown hair, but I finally grew up and lately, I’ve been getting a lot of attention. Male attention, to be specific. Mom says it’s because of my curvaceous figure, with my wide hips and big breasts. After all, I’ve always been a little heavier than the skinny cheerleaders at my high school, but after gaining the freshman fifteen in a matter of months, I noticed that my generous C chest blossomed into Double Ds, and my round rear end packs even more heat than before. Everything seems to jiggle when I walk, but a lot of guys like it.
But does Drake notice? I sneak another peek at the handsome man. He’s still in the living room talking to Grandma and Grandpa and the navy blue sweater he’s wearing hugs his massive torso, revealing every muscle on his upper body. I swallow hard as I stare at his broad shoulders, longing to caress them through the fine cashmere. Oh god. I shouldn’t be having these kind of thoughts. Who does this? For crying out loud, he’s basically my uncle. Nothing can ever happen between us, and nothing should. Yet my lips yearn to be pressed against his,
and I’d love to cradle that big body between my thighs. I’d love to hear him breathe my name, if only for an instant.
But this is so stupid because he probably sees me as nothing more than a child, if he even remembers who I am. Besides, Drake is twice my age and a hotly pursued bachelor here in the city. What do I have to offer?
Then again, I’m surprised he never remarried after my Aunt Naomi passed away. It’s been ten years after all, and a decade is more than enough to heal. Yet, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad he’s still single because it would crush my heart to see him with someone else. I know I can’t have Drake, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with another woman having him. I know, it’s petty.
Sighing, I open the cherry wood cabinet in the corner of the dining room and take out my mother’s fine china, the plates we only use on special occasions like tonight. I carefully place them on the table one by one. Leanne would kill me if I accidentally chipped one of her porcelain dishes, so I try my best to focus on setting the table, but Drake’s all I can think about. I can still see his athletic frame out of the corner of my eye, and bite my lip, my cheeks turning red.
“Jenna, help me bring out the food please,” Leanne instructs as she walks into the dining room carrying a large turkey she’s been roasting in the oven for hours. She places it in the center of the table, and the eyes of every guest in our home are riveted with appreciation. I can practically hear their rumbling stomachs from where I’m standing.
“Sure Mom,” I say as I follow her into the kitchen.
I grab the bowl of mashed potatoes and the gravy boat off the counter and take them into the dining room. As I place them on the table, I scour the living room with my eyes, in search of my sister Natalie. Of course, that chick is nowhere in sight. Even if she were, I doubt she’d help Mom and I set the table because Nat’s just like that. I love her with all of my heart, but my sister is impossible. She’s more into social media and TikTok dances than doing anything useful. I sigh. I’m sure it’s something she’ll grow out of one day. Hopefully.
But then, I spot Uncle Drake again. He laughs at something my grandpa says, flashing that white grin. His smile makes me warm in my pelvis, and I flush. How is that even possible? It’s just a laugh. I duck my head and force myself to focus. It’s Thanksgiving and my entire family is here. I can’t embarrass myself.
“Honey, are you okay?” my mom asks as she places another dish in the center of the table. Oh no, I hope she didn’t catch me staring at Uncle Drake.
“Sorry, Mom. I must’ve spaced out,” I lie glibly, still feeling warm.
Then, I rush into the kitchen to get away from more questions and fling open the refrigerator door. Reaching inside, I take out a cool bottle of water. My fingers grip the cap and quickly unscrew it, before guzzling the beverage and nearly finishing it in one gulp. That was a close one. I almost got caught making eyes at my aunt’s widower, and shame overtakes me. Who does that?
It’s just one dinner, I remind myself. You can get through this. I’ll just sit as far away from Drake as possible at the table. The further, the better, come to think of it. That way I won’t have to feel seeping wetness between my thighs, nor the tips of my nipples hardening. That way, I won’t be aware of his tall, dark form as much, and maybe I can even distract myself with all sorts of mind games. Suddenly, my sister comes prancing into the kitchen.
“I’m starving,” Natalie sings, blonde hair bouncing. She sticks her long, thin fingers into the green beans and pulls one out, shoving it into her mouth.
“Oh my god, gross. People have to eat that, you know,” I admonish. She stares at me for a bit, studying me, and then places her hand on her hip.
“Why are you so red?” she asks. Trust Natalie not to mince her words.
“Red? What do you mean?” I stammer. Great, now that my sister’s noticed my flushed complexion, she’s going to drill me until the sun goes down. I sigh and prepare myself. After all, although we’re quite different, my sister and I have always been close. We’re only two years apart in age and have been best friends for as long as I can remember. But Nat is everything I’m not. She’s always been a popular cheerleader, with clear blue eyes and a way with guys. In fact, when she started high school my junior year, no one believed that we were sisters. Technically, we aren’t biologically related, but our bond is as strong as the real deal.
Right now, Natalie’s eyes are locked onto me as she waits for me to say something. I hate lying to her, but I can’t tell her that I’m infatuated with Uncle Drake because she’d think I was insane. Yet I have to tell her something because she just raised her left eyebrow, which means neither of us is leaving this kitchen until I offer something.
“I’m just hot from running back and forth helping Mom set the table,” I lie as I take a sip of water. She takes her hand off of her hip.
“Oh,” she says as she hops on top of the counter and sits. “Sorry I didn’t help. I was exhausted from cheering at the football game earlier today.” She yawns as she stretches.
“It’s okay,” I say. Luckily, my sister believes my lie and moves on.
“So, have you met any hot guys at Marymount?” she asks with a wide grin. “Anything you’d like to share?”
I giggle. My sister has always been boy crazy. She expects me to be going on tons of dates at college, but really, there’s only one man I want and he’s long since graduated.
“A few, but none that I really like,” I say vaguely. My sister snorts.
“Oh, come on. There have got to be a ton of hot guys on campus, and you’re telling me there isn’t at least one that you like?” she asks incredulously.
“I just haven’t met one who’s my type yet,” I say as I shrug my shoulders.
“What exactly is your type, Jenna?” she asks, eyes squinting as she tries to figure me out. “Tall, dark and handsome? Nerdy with a Justin Bieber haircut? What gives?”
“Well, all I can say is that my type is definitely not the guys at Marymount,” I laugh.
“So what kind of guys then?” my sister persists.
I lean against the refrigerator as I try to come up with something to say. The type of man I want is about forty or so, with dark hair and blue eyes. In fact, he’s standing in our living room chatting with our grandparents as we speak. But I can’t tell her that.
“I don’t know,” I say finally.
“Well, why don’t you like the guys at your school?” she asks. I shrug my shoulders again and Nat snorts. “Jenna, there has to be a reason. I know dating is still brand new to you, but there’s got to be at least one man in this world that you’re interested in. Or are you interested in women?” she asks, her eyes going round. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I laugh.
“No, definitely not that,” I assure her. “I guess it’s because the guys at my school are immature,” I say. “They just seem really juvenile.”
Nat perks up.
“So maybe you need an older guy,” she remarks as she hops off of the counter and walks into the dining room. “We’ll talk more later, Jen, but I haven’t forgotten. We’ll find an older man for you.”
I shake my head ruefully because my sister doesn’t realize it, but the older guy I want is completely off limits. I can’t see myself with anyone else but him, yet I have to forget about my feelings for him because they’re wrong. What an impossible situation.
I take the dish of steaming green beans off of the counter and carry it into the dining room. Most of our guests are already seated, leaving only two open chairs available. One is next to my brother Kendrick, and the other is next to Uncle Drake. Immediately, my heart begins beating rapidly. I have to get to Kendrick, otherwise I’ll spend the entire two hours next to the man whom I’m trying to avoid.
I walk quickly to the table, but before I can even put the green beans down, Natalie takes the seat next to our brother. My heart starts to race as I stare at the chair next to Uncle Drake. Oh gosh. Is this really happening?
4
Drake
She smiles at me, her pink lips plush.
“Hi, Uncle Drake,” the beautiful brunette murmurs as she scoots her chair closer to the table. “Do you remember me?”
I start. It’s the same lovely voice I heard over the intercom. But who is this woman?
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I ask in a low voice. “Apologies in advance for my rudeness.”
The woman merely giggles again, the tinkling sound making my groin tighten.
“It’s me, Uncle Drake. Jenna. Remember? Your niece?”
I start.
“Jenna?” I ask, my eyes wide.
“Yeah,” she giggles. “I guess you don’t remember, but I don’t blame you. Last year, we had a kids’ table and I had to sit there. But this year, no more! We’re all sitting at the big table this Thanksgiving.”
I mutter something, although I have no idea what I just said because how can it be that the shy, awkward child I remember grew up to be such a sexy woman? Even worse, what does that say about me? I’ve been ogling my own niece for about an hour now. Shit.
But then again, Jenna isn’t really my niece. She was adopted, and I married into the family, so there’s no shared DNA between us. And technically, sneaking glimpses isn’t a crime, although it feels like it could be.
“It’s good to see you again. It’s been so long,” I manage in a somewhat unsteady voice.