005: IMPOSSIBLE LONGING.

Ciara's POV

"Baby, must you go to work today?" I pout at Simon as we stood facing each other in the center of the room.

"Of course I have to, darling, and you know that," he says impatiently. "It wouldn't tell well of me to sit at home a day after my dad's birthday celebration."

I bit my lips and threw my hands around his neck. "It could be a hangover."

"You know you should rest," he tells me with a smile as he removes my hands wrapped around my neck and holds them in his hands. "You weren't feeling too well last night."

"I'm great now...just a slight headache."

"You should still get more rest," he says in a concerned tone. "A few family members would start moving in today since this is where mum would stay." His voice cracks.

We all loved mum. It's a shame that cancer is threatening to take her away from us.

"I should... Get to work now." He turned to leave.

"Not even a kiss?"

"You never liked that, remember?" he says uneasily.

"That's not true. I always did, but you never gave it." I sigh, already tired of having this discussion and anything intimacy-related.

"Come here." He pulls me in and drops a kiss on my forehead, then cheeks. "Love you."

"Me too." I smiled and watched him leave.

I waited a few minutes to hear his car drive out. Then I groan and stomp my feet on the floor. I love this man, and he loved me too, but somehow I still wanted more the excitement, the electricity... And my thoughts led me to one man.

Shit! I shook my head willing his face to leave.

Then a loud engine roar draws my attention from outside. I started moving to the door. Did Simon forget something? But that doesn't sound like a car engine.

I unlocked the door to the sight of a black beastly motorcycle with an equally huge biker all dressed in black riding through the gate to the mansion entrance.

My breath catches. I’ve never had a thing for bikers because of their rough edges, their disregard for “proper” society, but the way he locks eyes with me through that tinted visor… the way his tattooed arm flexes as he grips the handlebars… a rush of wet heat floods between my thighs. I press them together, clit pulsing hard.

What the hell is wrong with me? Last night was Simon’s twin. Now I’m getting wet because of some random hot biker?

Maids rush out, giggling and offering to take his backpack, treating him like a rock star. Is he staying here?

I watch him climb the stairs, boots heavy. He stops one step below me and pulls off the helmet. Black hair tumbles free. Dark blue eyes meet mine.

Cain.

My core clenches so hard I nearly whimper.

"Ciara," he rasps, voice rough from the ride. "I hope you rested after last night?"

"Yes," I say in a clipped tone. I shouldn't have let him touch me last night in that storage room. I tear my gaze away from his MANLY body immediately.

When I glance back, he's still staring at me. His eyes darkened with... lust?

I wrap my hands around my nightwear, suddenly aware of how the thin silk barely covers my ass, neckline plunging so low my breasts nearly spill out, fabric so sheer the morning light outlines my hardened nipples and the dark shadow of my trimmed curls between my legs.

I wore this for comfort in a house of female staff and a husband who never looks but the way Cain is staring, I can’t tell if he notices how revealing this nightwear is or if he enjoys it too much.

Cain parts his lips to say something, but I'm already sweating and feeling a tingling sensation down there. So, I turned around and quickly walked out on him leaving him stunned.

I rushed to my room and shut the door behind me, leaning against it and breathing heavily. Why is Simon always so slow? First, he didn't tell me he had a twin. Next, he didn't tell me his brother was coming today. I would have left here three hours earlier.

I move to my mirror and stare at my reflection. My skin is flushed, heart pounding, nipples hard and a strange ache coils low in my body. I force my hands to my sides.

How can one man make me feel this undone?

I have to avoid Cain by all means possible. I have to push all this affection on my husband, or if he's too busy at work, then I bury myself at work too. Having given myself that resolve, I put on my nightie jacket and stepped out for breakfast.

I walk into the dining room, he's already there leaning against the sink and drinking coffee.

He lifts his head from the glass and I look away quickly.

I move straight to the cabinet acting like he's invisible. I fill my mug with hot water and glance around now where's the coffee pack.

"Over there." He points to the top shelf.

Who put it there? It's always beside my mug.

I say nothing. I stretch onto my toes. The nightie rides up, exposing more thighs. Still too short. I can’t reach.

I turn around, and he's staring at me again.

He moves to my front, now towering over me. "Do you need my help?"

"Yes." I finally choked out.

He leans in, his hard body pressing me against the counter and pushing my jacket further open. The hard ridge of his erection nudges me. He grabs the coffee pack and drops it on the countertop behind me but doesn't move away.

"Thanks." I breathed out and fight the urge to run my arms over his toned body.

He bites his lower lip, gaze dropping to my mouth, then lower to the deep V of my robe, the swell of my breasts spilling over the neckline then back to my eyes. "You look beautiful."

"This is my morning face." I try to downplay his compliment. I tear my gaze away, afraid that he may see my own longing too. Deep down, my husband's twin makes me feel seen and desired in ways the husband never has.

This is wrong. He's his brother. But God, the way he looks at me...

He gently cups my chin, turns my face back to his. His thumb brushes my lower lip slowly. "Look at me," he says softly. "Please."

Simon may be gone now, but his absence leaves an aching void I can’t ignore… and someone else or something hard needs to fill it.