Chapter Thirteen 859

Chapter Thirteen

Edward

I pull out a half-empty bottle of wine and a glass from the cupboard, and with shaking hands I head to the medicines cupboard and pull out the box of Dad’s pain meds that he had when he had a whiplash a few months ago.

Before I can reconsider, I pop two of the pills out of the blister pack and pry apart the shell to reveal the powdery Codeine inside. Taking a deep breath, I empty the contents of both into the bottle of wine and dispose of the evidence.

I carry them through to the living room where Mom is curled up on the couch again, just like the night before. My entire body feels as though it’s humming with electricity, in anticipation of another chance to be with the woman I love… without interruption or her fully knowing what’s happening. I should feel bad for this—though I can’t deny that taking her like I did and how I plan to do it all over again makes the guilt worthwhile.

It helps that I’m a similar height and build to my dad, and I’m hoping that with her senses clouded by wine, I’ll be able to convince her again that I am him. She seemed confused this morning, but she didn’t question it, no doubt finding something about our interaction that allowed her to believe I was him. My stomach twists, knowing that she didn’t come apart for me like I wanted, but thinking I was Dad.

I’ll take what I can get, and if this is the only way to get what I want, then so be it. I hadn’t intended on acting on any of this, I just got so caught up in everything Mom is—beautiful, clever, kind, loving…and impossible to resist.

Sitting next to her on the couch, I take her hand. She smiles, giving it a squeeze, not seeing anything deeper in it than my being her loving son. I am her loving son, it’s just that the way I want to show her love isn’t morally acceptable.

We settle on the couch and watch the movie she’s picked out for us tonight. Another classic horror flick. Every time she jumps at something on screen we laugh. It’s all a part of the fun, the rush of adrenaline that hits us when we’re scared. I’m afraid, but it has nothing to do with movie monsters or special effects. I’m scared of how far I’m willing to go—for her, and everything I want with her.

The movie ends and the credits roll, but this time Mom is still awake. She gets to her feet and sways a little, putting her hand on her head—no doubt feeling the effects of the alcohol and codeine. I sweep her off her feet and she yelps loudly in surprise .

“Edward Everett! Put me down, this instant!” she orders, but I ignore her protests and proceed to carry her upstairs to her room.

“What kind of son would I be if I didn’t take care of my mom when her equilibrium is out of sync?” I ask her. She rolls her eyes and smacks me on the arm.

I shrug and continue up the stairs. When we reach the hallway at the top of the stairs, I set her down on her feet. She puts a hand on each of her hips and looks up at me with a mixture of indignance and amusement.

“I am quite capable of walking upstairs myself, thank you.”

“I’ll try and remember that next time,” I tease, and she shakes her head, mutters something under her breath about ‘ boys ’ and walks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I stare at the heavy wooden barrier for a moment before making my way to my own room and heading inside. Stripping down to my boxers, I sit on the edge of the bed and silently face my inner conflict.

It’s painful how much I want her, but the risk of being caught is so high. A part of me doesn't care and wants to throw caution to the wind and just go for it, while the other part of me is strongly considering the repercussions of both getting caught, and then what will happen when the truth is out.

I’m not sure how long I’m sitting there warring with two sides of myself, but I can’t hear any movement or signs that Mom is still awake. A glance at the clock tells me that it’s nearly 2am, and it’s late enough that if I’m going to do anything, it needs to be now.

I didn’t realize which part of me had won the internal war until I was standing outside her bedroom door. Cracking it open a fraction, I listen for the sound of her breathing. Her breaths are even, indicating that she's in a deep sleep. Before I can reconsider my course of action, I push the door wider open and walk into her room. It’s dark, but I can make out the shadowy form of her sleeping figure on the bed, and I quietly cross the room until I’m standing beside her.

Crouching down, I reach out to stroke her face. Warm breath hits the palm of my hand, and I shudder, remembering how it felt on my dick last night before she sucked me off. Mouth dry, I swallow at the memory. Tracing her slightly parted lips with my fingers, I push the tip inside her mouth, running it over the end of her tongue before withdrawing .

Barely able to remain calm enough to take this slow, I hurry around to the other side of the bed and climb in behind her. Snuggling up, I place my arm over her sleeping body and gently tug her close to me, spooning her from behind. The soft, warm cheeks of her ass against my cock wakes him up a little, and it doesn’t take long for me to get hard.

Pressed along the seam of her ass cheeks, the round globes taunt me with the forbidden place that’s nestled between them.

I wonder if she’s ever taken a cock in there.

Imagining being her first time for something so intimate makes my balls ache and my cock throb with desire. Maybe one day I’ll get to find out for myself. For now, I’m more than content with claiming her pussy as rightfully mine.