I considered, knowing I’d find a way to balk his rules and make him cave. “I jerked off in your bed.”
“For fuck’s sake, Edison.”
Uncle Denver moved toward the kitchen. It was stupid, but I felt a sense of satisfaction. Uncle Denver might have won his stupid game earlier, but that round went to me.
I lost interest in my TV show and clicked it off, following him into the kitchen. Uncle Denver’s back was turned as he rooted through the pantry.
He heard me enter the room and glanced over his shoulder. “Did you eat?”
“A sandwich.”
His attention shifted to the counter and sink.
“And yes, I cleaned up after myself.”
“Good. I’m not your maid.”
“Did you and Dad really fuck in college? You were just shitting me, right?”
He turned back to the pantry. “It happened. A lot. For several weeks. You’re the only reason we stopped.”
“What the fuck?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door frame. “I thought I was a glimmer in my daddy’s eyes. Wasn’t that what you said?”
“More like a jelly bean in your mother’s stomach. We didn’t know at the time.”
He collected a can of spaghetti sauce and a bag of dried pasta and brought them to the counter. In a lower cupboard, he found a pot and filled it with water. “Your dad wasn’t much for rules. He was about fun and living in the moment. It just happened one night, and we never stopped.”
“Wow, and now he’s a square and gives me shit for being the exact same way.”
“He sees the error of his ways.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Dad’s no angel. He works with strippers. Hell, he’s probably fucked every one of them. God knows he doesn’t get home until long after his shift is over most nights.”
Uncle Denver set the pot of water on the stove to boil and popped open the can of sauce, upending it into a smaller pot. A crater had formed between his brows. He didn’t like hearing that, but it was the truth.
“Are you sure you aren’t eating? It’s nothing fancy, but tell me now so I know how much pasta to make.”
“I’m good.”
He was going to great lengths not to look at me any more than he had to. His concentration on the pot of water was almost comical. I took the opportunity to study him, surveying the goods. Uncle Denver might have been approaching middle age, but he had an ass to kill for.
Unlike Dad, he didn’t spend five days a week at the gym, pumping weights and doing all he could to hold onto his youth like an idiot. Uncle Denver ran. Three or four days a week before the sun crested the horizon, he pounded the pavement to stay in shape. His thunder thighs and firm ass were proof. The rest of his muscles weren’t as defined, and his stomach was a bit softer, making him self-conscious, but I didn’t mind.
He wasn’t overweight, far from it, but he wasn’t super thin either. I liked it. He didn’t try too hard like Dad. He respected his age and accepted his imperfections. Dad sulked and complained and thought he should be as buff today as he was twenty years ago. It gave me a headache listening to him.
“Stop staring at my ass, Edison.”
“I don’t think you can tell me what to do with my eyes.”
He chuckled and shook his head, finally turning around and leaning against the counter. “You are a force to be reckoned with.”
“At your service.” I gave a small bow. “Don’t act so surprised.”
“You need to call your dad and see if he’ll bring over your school stuff before he goes to work tonight. I’m serious. If you’re staying here, you’re going to school.”
“Annnd… now you’re a buzz kill. I don’t want to talk about school. I want to talk about this insane notion where you think I would want to do anything remotely kinky with my dad. My dad! Uncle Denver, are you hearing this?”
“I thought you liked breaking the rules and doing stuff outside the norm. You know, in August when things got heated between us and we ended up making out on my couch, I distinctly remember saying, ‘This is not okay, Edison. We shouldn’t do this. I’m your uncle.’ And you said, ‘Why should we feel bad about something that feels so good? Who cares what other people think? It’s none of their business.’ Remember that?”
“Distinctly.” I couldn’t fight the grin. The taboo aspect and wickedness of the whole thing had set my blood on fire. It was ten times hotter because he was my uncle.
Uncle Denver splayed his hands out, palms up as though saying, You see. That’s my point.
“But there’s a difference. Uncle and nephew?” I held my hands up, balancing them like a scale. “That’s hot. Father and son?” I crashed one hand to the ground. Hard. “A thousand levels of disgusting.”
“Not really.” Uncle Denver glanced at his pot of water. It was steaming but not yet boiling. “Do you know who else said almost those exact same words to me many years ago?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Your dad. ‘It feels good,’ he told me. ‘We both want it. It’s no one’s business but our own.’ It was hard to make my head go there because I’m not wired the same way, but Harley was right. I wanted it. I liked it. He was the one person who understood me and gave me what I needed. An escape. But I don’t expect you to understand that. You didn’t grow up with me. You don’t know what it’s like to be me.” He tapped his temple. “Harley does. He gets it. He knew. You’re like your dad, whether you want to believe it or not. Carefree. Uninhibited by social norms and rules and other people’s demands. You like the thrill of doing something that’s not entirely legal or right.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek as I absorbed all he was and wasn’t saying. He was making a point and trying to encourage me to see his proposal in a different light.
I still couldn’t go there. “It’s different.”
“Not really. Not in the grand scheme of things. Wrong is wrong. There is no such thing as more wrong or less wrong.” He checked his water once more before crossing the room.
He had that seductive, commanding presence about him again, a bold look in his eyes that made my knees weak. Uncle Denver rested a hand on my hip, caressing, crowding me against the doorframe as he leaned over me. Despite being almost the same height, Uncle Denver had a way of coming across as imposing and powerful when he wanted to. It wasn’t often. His meek personality usually lent him an air of reservation and unobtrusiveness.
Not now.
“Let me tell you something about your dad.”
“Oh god, am I gonna want to hear this?”
His smile was dangerous, his gaze unwavering. “Oh, I think so.” His thumb carved a path over my hip bone, sneaking under my T-shirt and running back and forth against my bare flesh. “I’ve been with a number of guys since college. I’ve experienced all sorts of things in the bedroom. I can be adventurous when I want to be. But let me tell you, no one has ever fucked me like your dad fucked me. No one has ever made me come like he made me come. And it wasn’t because of who he was. If there is one thing Harley is good at in life, it’s that.”
I gulped, trying not to let that image settle in my mind. It wasn’t so much that I was picturing my dad and uncle getting it on. It was the knowledge that Uncle Denver wasn’t this strict top I’d pretended he was in those endless fantasies I’d conjured up in the months we’d been apart.