My nephew’s voice turns me cold, but it’s too late. I’m coming. Too far gone to stop.

I’m rigid with horror, my pulsing cock wedged inside his ex girlfriend as I fill her up with my seed, and it goes on and on, sharp pain burrowing into my stomach.

When I force my head up, already sick with shame, Harry stares down at me like he’s never met me before. Those accusing hazel eyes are the exact same shade as my brother’s.

“Wait,” I choke out, but he bends and snatches something from the grass near Josie’s head.

“Forgot my phone,” my nephew mutters.

Then he’s gone, swallowed up by shadows.

Eleven

Josie

“Shit.” Everett pulls out of me so abruptly that I hiss, fluid spilling out of me onto the dry earth below. Oookay. “Shit. I need to go find him.”

Not how I imagined my first time ending, but, you know. This is not a normal situation.

Still, I try to seem calm as I sit up, my limbs stiff and blades of grass stuck to my hair. Everett’s kneeling above me, tugging his belt closed, his face cast in shadow, and I touch his knee, suddenly shy. “Harry will be okay.”

A cold breeze drifts over my bare chest and I shiver, yanking my top back down over my rumpled bra. “He just needs some space to process. If we give him some time to think, then tomorrow we can sit him down and tell him—”

“This was a mistake.”

I go still, my heart clenching painfully.

No. No, he doesn’t mean that.

You can’t make love to a girl like that, can’t touch her and taste her and worship her body like she’s the holy grail, only to toss it all away like it was nothing. There’s no way.

“We all need sleep.” I try again, voice hoarse. “If we all take a minute to cool down, then tomorrow things will look better.”

“Josie,” Everett snaps, pushing to his feet. He glares down at me, and I feel like a bug in the dirt. Worthless. “I told you. Harry is my nephew. This was a mistake.”

Huh.

Didn’t know my chest could cave in on itself like this. Then Everett tosses my shorts and panties into my lap, and I want to cry.

Actually, no: I want to yank these clothes on, surge to my feet, push Everett Bray into the freaking fire pit, and then I want to cry.

But real life doesn’t work like that, so I settle for dressing quickly, chin ducked. A tragic part of me thinks Everett will take it back, that he’ll kneel down next to me and sweep me into his arms and tell me that was dumb, that he didn’t mean it. That it was a knee-jerk reaction, his old shame rearing its ugly head. And I’ll yell at him a little, but we’ll be okay.

Heavy steps crunch against the gritty earth as Everett strides away, calling for Harry.