Book 1: Wanting My Stepson

Chapter 4 —- Out of the Frying Pan

Vivian's POV

At the sound of Lucas’s voice, my heart violently leaped into my throat.

Robert and I tore ourselves apart in a blind panic. I scrambled backward, my hands frantically yanking the hem of my dress down to my knees, smoothing the wrinkled fabric with shaking fingers. Robert pressed his back hard against the passenger door, his chest heaving as he stared straight ahead, his jaw locked in a desperate attempt to look normal.

My hands flew to my face, my cheeks burning so hot I was certain they were crimson.

Outside, Lucas wasn’t looking at us. He was bent over, gripping his foot with both hands, his face contorted in agony. He had kicked a sharp, jagged piece of rusted metal rebar sticking out of the dirt path right next to the car door.

"Damn it!" Lucas hissed, limping slightly as he finally grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. "Some idiot left a stake in the dirt. I nearly broke my toe."

"Are you okay, Lucas?" I managed to say. My voice sounded incredibly thin, almost squeaky, but my husband was too busy rubbing his foot to notice.

"I'm fine, just pissed," Lucas grumbled, sliding into the driver's seat. He slammed the door shut, completely oblivious to the thick, suffocating wave of tension that rolled off the passenger seat.

"Bianca's just finishing up inside. We need to get back on the road," he added.

Beside him, Robert didn't say a word. He kept his eyes locked on the windshield, but his hands were clenched into tight fists on his lap, his knuckles white.

A few seconds later, Bianca hopped back into the rear seat, letting out a satisfied sigh as she opened a cold soda. "Ready when you are, Uncle Lucas."

"Alright. Let's get this drive over with," Lucas muttered, shifting the SUV into drive and pulling back onto the highway.

For the remaining two hours of the trip, the car was a silent pressure cooker. I kept my eyes glued to the window, watching the pines blur together. But my mind was stuck in a loop, replaying the taste of Robert's lips, the rough demand of his hands, and the terrifying thrill of almost getting caught.

Every time Lucas took a sharp turn, our bodies brushed in a heated friction beneath our clothes, sending waves of heat through us. I could only silently pray, so I don't lose my mind before reaching the campsite.

……..The Campsite…….

By the time we finally pulled into our reserved, isolated campsite, the sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and violet. The site was beautiful, surrounded by towering, ancient trees and completely cut off from the neighboring camps.

"Alright, crew, let's get this site ready before we lose the light," Lucas called out, stepping out of the SUV and stretching his arms. "Bianca, you grab the lighter gear. Robert, help me with the heavy canvas tents. Vivian, why don't you start setting up the folding table and the food prep area?"

"Sure," I murmured, desperately needing something to occupy my trembling hands.

As we unloaded, the physical labor only heightened the tension. Robert had stripped off his outer flannel, wearing only a gray tank top. Every time he lifted a heavy cooler or hoisted a tent pole, his muscular back flexed, his shoulders glistening with a light sheen of sweat. It was this exact image that had haunted my dreams for months, playing out right in front of me in the fading light.

I was trying to untangle a set of guide ropes near the edge of our clearing when Lucas suddenly yelled from the edge of the woods.

"Hey, Bianca! Come help me carry this dry firewood back. There’s a good pile of logs just over this ridge."

"Coming!" Bianca called out, dropping a sleeping bag and jogged after him, disappearing into the thick treeline.

Suddenly, the campsite was empty. Just Robert and me.

My breath hitched. I stood near the half-assembled main tent, my fingers tightly gripping a metal peg. I could hear the rhythmic thump of Robert's hammer as he secured the stakes on the opposite side of the tent structure.

Slowly, the hammering stopped.

I looked up just in time to see Robert step around the heavy canvas wall. His dark eyes locked onto mine, intense and completely unyielding. He didn't hesitate. He walked straight toward me, his boots crunching softly on the dry grass.

"Robert," I whispered, my heart starting to race all over again. I took a step back, but my heel caught against the edge of the tent. "Don't. They'll be back any second."

"They're over the ridge," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

He didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of me, completely blocking the fading sunlight. The heat radiating off his body was overwhelming, mixed with the scent of cedar, pine, and warm skin.

He reached out, his large hands catching my waist, pinning me gently but firmly against the sturdy wooden support pole of the tent.

"We need to finish what we started in the car," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips.

"We can't," I breathed, my hands coming up to press against his chest. But instead of pushing him away, my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

My body was betraying me again, craving the friction, craving his touch. "Robert, please... someone will see."

"Let them," he whispered.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my jaw, making me gasp. He trailed his mouth upward, his breath hot against my cheek, closing the distance to my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, completely losing myself in his proximity, waiting for the bruising impact of his lips when Bianca’s sharp, confused voice cut through the quiet clearing.

"What are you guys doing?"