All Chapters of WET and Ruined( collection of short sweet stories) : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

***Ivy’s POV*Mom’s bedroom door sat halfway down it, slightly ajar the way she always left it. A thin strip of darkness spilled out. Beyond that door was the last stretch of floorboards that led to my stepbrother’s room. Fifteen steps. Maybe sixteen. Every single one of them felt like a risk I shouldn’t take.I was nineteen. Cole was twenty-three. We had been doing this for months—silent texts in the dark, carefully timed encounters, the constant low-grade terror of getting caught. Tonight Mom had gone to bed early with a headache. His father was snoring. The house was as quiet as it ever got.My phone lit up with a single message from Cole.*Come.*I slipped out of bed barefoot, wearing only an oversized T-shirt and the knowledge that I was already wet. The first few steps from my door were the easy ones. Then the floorboard just before Mom’s room gave its soft, traitorous creak.I froze.My heart slammed so hard I was sure she would hear it. I counted to ten, listening for any shi

*Vera’s POV*The guilt hit me in the middle of the kitchen.Mom was at the stove stirring a pot of soup, humming under her breath the way she always did when she felt content. Soft light came through the window. Everything looked normal. Safe. The kind of ordinary moment that made what I had been doing with my stepbrother feel suddenly, sharply wrong.I was nineteen. Reid was twenty-four. For four months we had been fucking in secret—his hand over my mouth, my back against locked doors, the constant low fear of getting caught. Until that afternoon I had managed to keep the guilt buried under the hunger. Watching Mom smile at me over her shoulder cracked something open.“Vera? You okay, honey? You’ve been quiet.”My mouth opened. The confession sat right there on my tongue. *I’ve been sleeping with Reid. Your stepson. I let him take me last night while you were downstairs. I came on his cock and then kissed you goodnight like nothing happened.*I almost said it.Reid walked into the ki

Aria’s POVThe invitation said “private lingerie party — adults only, discretion expected.”I almost didn’t go. Then my stepdad, Marcus, texted me a single line:Wear the black set. You’re coming with me.I was nineteen. He was forty-one. Mom was out of town for the entire weekend on a work retreat. That left the two of us alone in the house with too much history and not enough self-control. We had crossed the line months ago. Tonight he wanted to push it further.The party was in a converted loft downtown. Low lights, thumping bass, and about thirty people in expensive lingerie or open robes moving between couches and a small makeshift stage. No one here knew us. No one knew the man whose hand rested on the small of my back was the same man who had married my mother two years earlier.Marcus kept me close. He introduced me only as “Aria” and never corrected the assumptions that floated around us. A few women eyed him with open interest. A few men looked at me the same way. Every time

Talia’s POV The hotel had overbooked. That was the only reason the three of us ended up in a single room with one king-sized bed. Mom had been apologetic the entire elevator ride up, already half-asleep from the long drive. My stepbrother, Levi, had said nothing. He simply carried the bags and locked eyes with me over her shoulder in a way that made my stomach drop. I was nineteen. Levi was twenty-four. We had been fucking in secret for five months. Sharing a bed with our mother sleeping between us—or worse, beside us—should have been enough to keep us apart for one night. It wasn’t. Mom claimed the right side of the bed and was unconscious within minutes, still in her travel clothes, soft snores already starting. That left the middle and the left side for Levi and me. We settled in with exaggerated care. The only light came from the thin gap in the blackout curtains. The air conditioning hummed. Mom’s breathing stayed deep and even. I lay rigid on my back, staring at the ceili

*Noelle’s POV* For months I had been the one who waited. Waited for his texts. Waited for the sound of his door opening at night. Waited for him to push me against a wall or pull me into a dark room and take what he wanted. My stepbrother, Griffin, always set the pace. He decided when, how hard, how long. I had loved every second of being wanted that way. I was nineteen. He was twenty-five. And one night I decided I was finished waiting. Mom and his father were at a work function that would keep them out until well after midnight. The house was quiet. Griffin was in his room with the door half-open, scrolling on his phone in bed, shirtless, completely at ease. He looked up when I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. “You’re early,” he said, a small smirk already forming. “Couldn’t wait for me to come get you?” I didn’t answer. I walked to his closet, pulled two of his silk ties from the rack, and turned back to face him. His expression shifted—curiosity first, then somet