Rule Breakers (Off Limits #2) - Nicky James Page 0,8

again.

Whatever. I’d change his mind. He would see how the younger and more enthusiastic package was far more appealing.

After resting awhile, naked and relatively sated, I decided to get up, get dressed, and find food. I did not tidy his rumpled sheets or bother checking to ensure I’d cleaned up stray cum splatters. Let him find them.

While eating a sandwich and lounging on the couch watching reruns of some shitty sitcom, a car pulled into the driveway. I listened, wondering if it was Dad returning or Uncle Denver coming home.

The front door opened without anyone knocking, and I smiled.

I kept my eyes on the TV while paying attention to the sounds of Uncle Denver removing his coat and boots and hanging them in the hallway closet.

His heavy footfalls moved toward the living room, and he stood in the doorway. My back was turned, but my whole focus was on my uncle.

“In case you think you’re going to change my mind, you aren’t. You can stay here, but you’re going to school. You will not crawl into my bed at night. We will not be drinking together because god knows I have no self-control when I drink, and you will wear clothes when in any part of this house that is shared. Understand?”

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

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