Chapter 3


    Maija


    By the time we finish sorting all the boxes, it is almost dinner time; we all agree on ordering pizza since


    no one feels like cooking.  The food arrives, and we all sit at the dinner table having our first meal as a


    family. The atmosphere is nice and rxing as Charles retells how he and my mother met at his hotel. I


    have heard the story about five times, so I’m not keen on another reiteration. I look at the slice of pizza


    when he gets to the part about mom threatening him and chuckle as I poke away at it.


    For some reason, I am not hungry for food. However, I am hungry for someone. Slightly lifting my head,


    my eyes meet Zayne, which instantly causes a flood between my thighs. It really should be a crime to


    be that hot. I bite my lip, squeezing my thighs together, hoping to quell the heat that is building in my


    core.


    “Are you not hungry, Maija? Or did you want something else? We can order…” Charles''s voice ms


    through my scious thoughts, bringing me back to reality. Was I hungry? Yes, but what I want isn’t on


    the menu, my dear stepfather– it’s in your son’s pants. I shake my head free of my dirty thoughts


    before responding.


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    “Hmm, I’m fine, I uh, just have a lot on my mind.”


    ”I’m sure you do. Moving can be incredibly stressful.”


    “Oh no...” I start to answer, but Zayne interrupts me.


    “Drop the shrink act, dad.” I cringe at the harsh tone of his voice, bracing myself for an argument, but


    the argument never happens because Charles returns his remark with a smile.


    “Putting the ole degree to good use. I’m sorry, Maija, that’s not how I meant it.” I smile, nodding as I


    return to picking at my pizza and thinking of ways to avoid fucking my stepbrother this summer. I need


    to avoid him at all costs until I go off to college. Before meeting him, I once considered the possibility of


    living at home since NYU was only two hours away. However, after meeting him, there is no way I can


    live with him and not rip his clothes off.


    “You and Zayne should get to know each other, you know, like siblings.” I hear my mother say. Yeah, I


    don’t think that’s possible, mom. My panties are soaked, and all I did was look at him. The thought of


    treating him like a sibling was never in the cards.


    “Let’s see how long the marriagests first.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think. The


    look on my mother''s face makes me instantly regret them—me and my big mouth thatcks a suitable


    filter. I sigh. At least I didn’t let it slip that I want my stepbrother to bend me over the counter and fuck


    me mercilessly.


    Zayne startsughing suddenly, which does not help. My nipples harden as hisugh caressed my


    eardrums. What the hell is wrong with my body? He’s just one guy; why does he have this effect on


    me? I raise my head and meet his eyes again, his green eyes filled with mischief. Again, moisture


    settles between my thighs. Oh, those pouty lips. His face would make a perfect chair, I surmise, as the


    heat in my body rises. He bites his lip as he looks at me. Oh, so I’m not the only one drunk on lust, I


    smile.


    Wait, there is something I should be doing. Apologizing. I peel my eyes away from him and nce at


    my mother, who still looks hurt.


    “I’m sorry, mom, I’m sure this marriage willst forever. Naturally, Zayne and I will be friends–”


    more like fuck buddies, I think– “no need to force it.” My mother nods, feeling satisfied with my apology,


    and we all resume light banter and easy conversation as I made mental ns to work my dildo


    overtime tonight while imagining it is my stepbrother.