I opened the door in a nightgown that was basically nothing, and the man on the step was not my husband.
That was the whole mistake.
Grant had been gone six days. A work trip that kept adding a day. I had spent the evening in the bathroom with two fingers in my cunt and his name in my mouth and it had not been enough. I was thirty-one. Married. Wet for a man who texted landing Friday and then didn’t land. The knock came while I was still throbbing, still shiny, the transparent gown stuck to my t**s and barely covering the mess between my legs. I thought it was him. I didn’t grab a robe.
Eli smiled like the past had a key.
“Surprise, stepsister.”
My younger stepbrother. Ten years under me. Twenty-one. The same mouth he had used to flirt before the wedding, before I told him to stop, be
