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CAN’T WAIT TO TASTE HER!!!
publish date:
2026-07-14 20:32:23Chapter 3
Julian's POV The car hummed beneath me as I drove home alone. My wife, Lena's mother was at her sister's house, tucked into bed with a fever. I'd dropped her off, kissed her forehead, and promised to bring back her things. A good husband would have stayed. A good husband wouldn't have been thinking about his stepdaughter. But I wasn't a good husband. I'd stopped pretending I was the night I first saw Lena at the wedding reception. She was nineteen, barely legal and she was wearing a dress that made me forget I was supposed to be looking at her mother. I'd spent six months avoiding her. Six months pretending I didn't notice the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. Six months pretending I didn't crave her when she came out dressed in shorts that exposed her thigh and loosened shirts that exposed part of her t**s. I'd seen everything and I'd done nothing. Until tonight. --- I pulled into the driveway at 10:47 PM. The house was dark except for the living room TV which was flickering, low voices, the clink of bottles. Oliver's friends, probably. My son and Lena. I sat in the car for a long moment watching the house. Watching the shadow move across the upstairs window, her shadow. She's awake. She's waiting. For what? I didn't know. But I was about to find out. --- The front door was unlocked. I stepped inside. The living room was a mess — pizza boxes, beer bottles, three young men sprawled across the couches. Marcus looked up. "Mr. V!" He scrambled to sit up. "We didn't know you were coming back” "Obviously." My voice was flat. "Where's Oliver?" "Bathroom," Ethan said, jerking his head toward the hall. "And Lena?" They exchanged glances. "Her room, I think," Marcus said carefully. "She's been up there all night." Up there all night. Alone. "You guys should leave now, its already late" "Sure," They stood up and left. I made sure to lock the entrance door before climbing the stairs because I didn't want any disturbance tonight. She's all mine now and i couldn't wait to have a taste of her p***y. --- The hallway was dark. I walked past Oliver's room, it was empty. Past the bathroom, still empty. Past the door that led to Lena's room. It was open. Just a crack. And I could see her. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, phone in hand, biting her nails. Looking like she was waiting for someone. For Oliver? For someone else? For me? I stood there in the shadows, watching her. She hadn't seen me or she didn't know I was there. She typed something on her phone then she threw it on the bed. Then she picked it up again and read whatever reply came through. Her face flushed, thighs pressed together and then, she stood up, walked to the door and pulled it open. --- She froze. "Julian?" Her voice cracked. "You're… you're back?" "Your mother's sick." I stepped closer. "I came to pack her things." She didn't move. "You… you heard? In the car?" Her eyes darted past me toward the stairs. "I…. Oliver…" "I know." I kept my voice low. "I know about you and Oliver." She went pale and then she did something I didn't expect. She stepped forward. "Are you angry?" she asked. Her voice was so quiet. "Because if you are…" "I'm not angry." "... you have every right to be…wait." She blinked. "You're not?" I reached out, brushed a strand of hair from her face. She flinched but she didn't pull away. "I've been watching you for six months, waiting for you" I said. "Six months. Do you understand what that does to a man?" "Julian….Oliver —" "Is downstairs." I pressed my forehead to hers. "And he doesn't know I'm here. But he's about to." "Julian, what are you —" "A choice." I pulled back and looked at her. "You can send me away," I said. "You can say no. I'll go. I'll pretend this never happened” She shook her head. "That's not —" "Or." I stepped closer. "You can let me in." She stared at me and then I heard it. Footsteps. Coming up the stairs. Oliver was coming. Lena's eyes darted past me and dropped toward the stairs, toward the footsteps growing louder. She made a choice. She grabbed my shirt, pulled me into her room and closed the door. The lock clicked. Oliver's footsteps stopped outside. Then came a knock. "Lena?" Oliver's voice. "Lena, I know you're in there. I saw Dad's car, he's home. Open the door." Lena looked at me. I looked at her. Her hand was on the lock. And she was smiling.
Latest chapter
Our dirty little secret THE SECOND NIGHT
Chapter 144By Tuesday evening the house had stopped performing politeness.Ava no longer asked what anyone wanted for dinner. She put food on the table and expected them to sit. Oliver came and went with less explanation. Lena moved through the rooms like someone counting exits. Helen’s messages arrived twice a day—photos of a harbour, a plate of food, Julian half-asleep in a chair—and each one made the kitchen feel more temporary, as if the real owners might appear at any second and ask what had been done in their absence.They hadn’t.Oliver found Lena in the living room after nine, the television on with the sound low, a show neither of them was watching. Ava had gone to the guest room with a book and a closed door. The hallway light was off. Outside, rain tracked down the window in thin lines.“You’re avoiding the upstairs,” Oliver said.“I’m sitting on a sofa.”“Same thing.”He stood in the doorway for a moment, then came in and sat on the other end of the couch. Not close. Clos
Our dirty little secret THE TRIP
Chapter 143 Helen. Helen cried at the door, then laughed at herself for crying. “It’s only a week,” she said, wiping under her eyes with the side of her hand. “Look at me. I’m being ridiculous.” “You’re allowed,” Ava said. She was already in the hallway with her tote bag and a folded duvet cover, as if she had done this enough times to know the house would need both practical things and soft ones. “Go. I’ve got them.” Julian put the last bag in the boot and came back up the path. He checked his pockets for the third time—keys, wallet, phone—then looked at Lena and Oliver standing on the step like people waiting for a verdict. “You know where everything is,” he said. “Call if the boiler does that thing again. Don’t ignore it until the kitchen floods.” “We’ve lived here longer than a week,” Oliver said. “That’s what worries me.” Julian’s mouth moved like he might smile. He didn’t quite manage it. When he hugged Lena, it was brief and careful, the kind of contact that stay
Our dirty little secret THE WEEK ON THE FRIDGE
Chapter 142 Sunday morning Helen fixed the dates. She did it at the kitchen table with her laptop open and a pen between her teeth, calling out options while Julian read the paper and Oliver ate cereal like a man who had somewhere else to be. Lena stood by the kettle, waiting for it to boil, and listened to her mother build a week-shaped hole in the middle of their lives. “Monday to Monday,” Helen said. “Train on the way down. Julian hates the motorway when he’s supposed to be relaxing. Ava said yes again. She’ll come Sunday evening so she’s already here when we leave.” Julian turned a page. “That’s soon.” “It’s three weeks away. That’s not soon. That’s civilised notice.” Helen wrote the dates on the calendar stuck to the fridge and circled them twice. “There. Real. No more maybes.” Oliver glanced at the fridge, then at Lena, then back at his bowl. “Do we get a schedule for feeding times, or are we trusted with the cupboards?” “You’re trusted,” Helen said. “Try not to pro
Our dirty little secret THE SHAPE OF ORDINARY
Saturday arrived without drama, which somehow felt more suspicious than if it had.Helen slept late, still soft from the spa, and came down in a robe with her hair loose, asking if anyone had coffee left in the pot. Julian made a fresh one. Oliver was already out—a text on the kitchen table said he had a library shift until mid-afternoon. Lena sat with a piece of toast she was only half eating and listened to her mother describe a steam room as if it were a religious experience.“I forgot what my own shoulders felt like when they weren’t up by my ears,” Helen said, wrapping both hands around her mug. “Ava booked the next one before we even left. She’s dangerous.”“In a good way,” Julian said.“In an expensive way.” Helen smiled at him over the rim. “You’re working today?”“Only a couple of hours. Then I’m yours.”“I’ll hold you to that.”Lena finished her toast, rinsed the plate, and said she was going into campus to collect a book she had left in a locker. Helen waved her off without
Our dirty little secret UNTIL LATE
Chapter 140Friday morning Helen announced she was taking the whole afternoon for herself.Not a clinic. Not a chore. Ava had booked them into a spa on the far side of town—massages, steam, the kind of slow waste of hours Helen had not allowed herself since before the accident. She said it at breakfast with a slight flush of guilt, as if pleasure still needed justifying.“I’ll be back late,” she said, already checking her bag. “There’s food in the fridge. Oliver, if you’re bringing anyone home, tell me next time so I’m not coming in half-asleep to strangers in my kitchen.”Oliver raised his mug. “Noted.”Julian said he would work from home. Lena said she had a campus shift until four. Helen kissed the top of Julian’s head, squeezed Lena’s shoulder, and left in a light cloud of perfume and borrowed calm. The door shut. The house adjusted around her absence the way it always did: a little wider, a little more dangerous, a little more itself.Julian looked at Lena across the table once t
Our dirty little secret BORING THINGS
Chapter 139Helen did not mention the receipt again.By morning it might as well have never existed. She stood in the kitchen in one of Julian’s old shirts, sleeves rolled to the elbows, making eggs with the radio on low. She talked about a sale on garden plants, about whether they should finally repaint the guest-room door, about a neighbour who had asked if they were settled now after all the hospital months. Julian answered from behind a mug, voice still rough with sleep. Oliver ate standing up, scrolling his phone, then rinsed his plate and left for campus with a short goodbye that took in the whole kitchen and no one in particular. Lena stayed long enough to wash her own plate and long enough to feel the ordinary weight of a house that was not, for once, tilting toward disaster.Helen kissed Julian’s cheek on her way past him to the fridge. “Don’t work through lunch. You always say you won’t and then you do.”“I’ll try,” he said, and almost smiled.Lena took her bag from the hook
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