Seducing my Sexy Son
By Delilah Fawkes
I feel terrible about what happened. Honestly, I do.
I’ve always been the responsible adult, even when my friends wanted to go clubbing after my divorce. I was always the designated driver, I never slept around, and I certainly never imagined I’d do what I did with my step-son, Brandon.
But, who could blame me? If another woman had been in my shoes, I’d dare her to be a better person. Seriously.
The trouble started when he began looking for schools. He’d been living on his own after high school in the same city as his dad, taking a year off to “figure himself out.” Finally, he got sick of working construction, and applied to the University of San Diego. The problem was, he wanted to come down and stay with me while he did his interviews.
I agreed, of course. I was still his step-mom after all, even after his dad and I split. How could I say no?
He arrived on my doorstep with a single backpack. He was wearing low-slung jeans and a tank top, showing off his bronzed shoulders. He smiled at me, and, to my embarrassment, I blushed.
I hadn’t seen him since he was a junior in high school, and in the last few years he’d definitely done some growing up. He was tall, muscular, and golden brown from his days performing hard labor outside.
He brushed his dark hair out of his face, and I was caught for a moment in his blue-eyed gaze. Had his eyes been that piercing when he was a teen?
I swallowed hard and averted my eyes. “Brandon, honey. It’s so good to see you.”
Before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into a long hug, his strong arms enfolding me.
“You look amazing, Mom. Thanks again so much for letting me stay here.”
He pulled back and kissed me on the cheek, the feel of his lips on my skin burning its way into my brain.
Mom.
He used to call me that after I met his dad because his own mother had passed away when he was just a kid. Even though he was sixteen when I moved in, and almost a man, he’d called me that, I think to make the both of us feel like a family. But now, it seemed different. Odd.
“Come on, Bran. Let’s get you settled in.”
I took his arm and let him into the house, not missing an opportunity to feel those sculpted muscles of his again. What was wrong with me? One minute I’m looking forward to seeing my step-son again, and the next I’m thinking of him like some guy I’m checking out at a bar.
I had to get it together before I did something I’d regret.
He dropped his bag on the guest bed and stared out the window, a smile growing on his handsome face.
“The pool is waaay bigger than you made it sound. This place is insane!”
He turned to me, his eyes lit up with excitement. He’d never been to this house, and couldn’t know that I loved nothing better than a sun-soaked day by the pool, tanning and swimming, keeping healthy and fit.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that big.” I winked at him and joined him by the window.
“You’ve got a hot tub at one end? Holy shit.”
He clamped a hand over his mouth, and I laughed.
“It’s okay. We’re both adults here, Brandon. Your Dad’s the one who hates swearing, not me.”
He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Heh, okay. I guess we are both adults.”
“Just relax, and make yourself at home,” I said.
I couldn’t help but inhale the piney scent of his aftershave. He was close enough that our shoulders were touching. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what he slept in. Would he strip down to his boxers, or sleep in the nude? The thought of him lying in bed naked, his chiseled body displayed on top of the sheets made my pussy throb.
Maybe he’d reach down and touch himself, rubbing one out in my guest room, just a few feet away from my bedroom. Hell, maybe he’d be thinking about me while he did it…
“Do you mind if I go down?”
“What?” I snapped out of my reverie.
“Down to the pool?” He grinned at me, and my cheeks heated. “For a quick swim before dinner?”
“Oh! Oh. Yes, of course.”
I left the room to let him change, and leaned back against the hallway wall. I’m such an idiot. I couldn’t act like a schoolgirl with a crush in front of this young man. For two years he’d called me “mom,” shared my house, ate my cooking. It was just too weird.
I had to snap out of it. No matter how sexy he was.
I wandered downstairs to take my mind off the hot young thing changing his clothes. I decided to distract myself by cooking up a nice meal for the two of us. He’d been living with his Dad, so I knew he probably hadn’t had anything but frozen waffles and hot pockets for the last God-knows-how-long.
I got to work washing vegetables and dicing, and soon lost myself in the rhythm of the kitchen. I stirred my sauce, then set it to simmer. As I was mashing cauliflower, I glanced outside, and my breath caught in my chest.
Brandon was poised on the edge of the deep end in nothing but a pair of blue speedos, the early evening light gleaming on his broad chest. His body was cut, the hard planes and angles making me want to run my hands over them (and then my tongue.) I didn’t miss checking out his heavy bulge, and my mind wandered, wondering how big he was.
Was his cock long? Thick?
I leaned closer to the window and watched as he dove gracefully into the water, cutting through it easily like a pro. He broke the surface with a splash and brushed his wet hair back, water streaming down his pecs.
The smell of smoke interrupted my thoughts. Shit! My sauce had burned on the bottom and was busy turning into a clumpy ruin in my favorite pan. I opened the window and fanned out the smoke with a kitchen towel.
Brandon looked over, grinning from the edge of the pool. “Everything okay over there?”
“Yep! No problem!” I laughed nervously and waved.
Dear God, I felt like I was in high school again, oogling a boy I liked and then acting like a moron. I sighed and dumped my pan into the sink.
“How do you feel about ordering a pizza?” I shouted.
Brandon gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up and laughed, the sound making my heart do a flip. I leaned back against the sink and sighed.
***
I wandered through the house flipping off lights and making sure the doors were locked, padding barefoot in my favorite short nighty. It was clingy and almost sheer, but Brandon had gone to bed an hour before, saying he was exhausted from his trip. I wasn’t worried about running into him, so I figured I might as well be comfortable in this warm weather.
I poured myself a glass of red wine on my way back through the kitchen, looking forward to sipping it and reading my favorite romance novel before falling asleep. I snuck up the stairs in the dark, then tiptoed down the hallway. The guest room was the door right before mine, and I didn’t want to wake Brandon up.
There was a creak, then a shadow reared up before me. I shrieked as I collided with it, splashing wine all over myself. There was a grunt of surprise, then fumbling before the hall light flicked on.
Brandon stood before me in just a pair of grey boxer briefs, now soaked with wine, droplets glistening on his chest. I had the urge to kneel down and lap up the rivulets trickling down his stomach toward the band of his underwear, then go lower…