Book 1: Wanting My Stepson

Chapter 1 —-- Car trip

Vivian's POV

My name is Vivian Hayes, married to Lucas Wilde, and I have a huge secret. Well, not really a secret, more like a forbidden fantasy.

I'm in love with my stepson, Robert Wilde.

Not the kind of affection mothers have for their children. I mean the forbidden kind where I want to know how he tastes, what drives him crazy, and how much I would love to feel his strong body completely overpowering mine.

It all started that fateful night when my husband, Lucas, left me completely unsatisfied in bed yet again. Frustrated and restless, I decided to head downstairs to get a glass of water. While I was walking down the silent hall, soft, heavy moans echoed from the end of the corridor.

At first, I thought I was dreaming, until I realized the sounds were coming from Robert's room. As much as I wanted to ignore it and walk away, a sudden, burning curiosity took over.

I tiptoed to his door, where the gasps and sighs grew louder. The sound of shifting sheets filled the air, and the raw, electric scent of youthful passion seemed to seep through the gap. I squinted my eyes, peeping through the small crack, and that's how the seed of forbidden pleasure was planted.

I watched as Robert eagerly pleasured his girlfriend, his muscular back flexing, his broad shoulders glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I should have left at that moment. Given them privacy, but I'm not a log of wood.

Watching his athletic, powerful figure and the intense, dominant look in his eyes as he moved with such effortless stamina stirred something deep inside me.

‘Why couldn't it be me?’

Ever since then, I began studying him. His likes, dislikes, hobbies. I noticed how he started hitting the gym even harder, getting into incredible shape and becoming more physically attractive by the day, but I had to keep acting like he was just my stepson.

Pathetic, right?

While everyone else was focused on daily life, I was standing in the kitchen, trying to hide the flush on my cheeks while frying eggs.

“Robert! Hurry up, we're about leaving,” my voice called out, sounding much softer and steadier than I actually felt.

“Coming!” he yelled back.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing pulse, and quickly finished up in the kitchen. This camping trip was supposed to be my reset button.

My husband had sprung it on us out of nowhere, insisting we needed a weekend of "family bonding" before Robert's final year of college wrapped up. When Lucas first announced it, I actually felt a wave of relief.

Away from the house, away from the quiet hallways where I kept visualizing things I shouldn't, I figured the fresh air and the distraction of the outdoors would help me clear my head. I needed to cool off. I needed to stop looking at my stepson as a fantasy and start remembering my place in this family. This trip was going to be my sanity check.

At least, that was the plan.

I walked outside to the driveway, where the trunk of Lucas's SUV was already wide open, packed to the brim with coolers, tents, and sleeping bags. But there was a surprise waiting by the rear passenger door.

"Bianca?" I heard Robert's voice as he stepped outside, stopping in his tracks.

My niece turned around, tossing a sleek designer backpack into the back seat. "Hey, Rob! Change of plans. Uncle Lucas invited me along since I had the weekend off. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not," Robert stammered, though I could tell his mind was immediately trying to calculate the space.

The back seat was already half-filled with overflow luggage that wouldn't fit in the trunk. With Bianca occupying the remaining window seat, there was physically only one spot left in the back row, and it was tightly wedged between a massive tent case and her seat.

My husband, Lucas, walked out of the house carrying the last tackle box. He slammed the trunk shut and wiped his brow. "Alright, let's get a move on. We've got a four-hour drive ahead of us."

"Dad, wait," Robert said, gesturing to the cramped interior. "There's only room for three people in the back, and with the gear, it's really just one. Where is everyone sitting?"

Lucas didn't even look up as he unlocked the driver's side. "Bianca's already settled in the back. Vivian, you take the front passenger seat. Robert, you’ll just have to share with her. It's a long drive, but we don't have another option unless you want to stay behind."

"Can't I just squeeze in next to Bianca?" Robert objected, his voice sounding slightly strained. I felt a sudden flutter in my chest. Was the thought of being close to me affecting him too?

"Don't be ridiculous, Robert, you're too broad for that gap," Lucas said dismissively, clicking his seatbelt into place. "Vivian doesn't weigh anything. Just make it work."

Before he could protest further, I stepped forward. I offered him a warm, apologetic smile, trying my best to act completely oblivious to the chaotic thoughts racing inside my head. I was wearing a simple, short sundress, the fabric light and catching the morning breeze.

"It's fine, Robert," I said, keeping my voice smooth and reassuring. "We'll manage. Open the door."

His hands looked almost numb as he pulled the passenger door open. He climbed in first, sitting down and pressing his back hard against the leather seat, clearly trying to occupy as little space as humanly possible.

I stepped up, turned my back to him, and carefully lowered myself onto his lap.

The moment my weight settled against his thighs, I felt his entire body go completely rigid. The sweet, warm scent of my perfume; vanilla and jasmine, instantly filled the confined space of the cabin.

The soft, thin material of my dress offered virtually no barrier between us, and I could feel the distinct, scorching heat of his muscular thighs resting heavily beneath mine.

"Are you adjusted?" I asked, shifting slightly to find a comfortable position. Every movement I made sent a visible jolt through his frame.

"Yeah," he choked out, staring straight ahead at the dashboard, forcing his hands to grip the edges of his own seat so he wouldn't accidentally touch me.

"Perfect."

My husband started the engine, the heavy hum vibrating through the floorboards, and straight through both of us.

I swallowed hard, deliberately moving my waist slightly against his crotch, feeling the unmistakable tension growing beneath me.

“Sorry,” I whispered, looking back at him.

“I… it's fine,” he murmured.

This was going to be a long drive.