Marcus had been in Celine’s life for as long as she could remember. He was her dad’s best friend — basically an uncle to her. He showed up for every birthday, every family barbecue, and every holiday with his warm smile and deep, rumbling laugh. “Uncle Marcus,” her dad would always say, and for years that word made her stomach twist with innocent affection.
But things changed when she turned sixteen.
She started noticing how tall he was, how his shirts stretched across his broad chest, and how his voice dropped to that low, gravelly tone whenever he spoke to her. She also caught him looking. Those quick glances that lingered a second too long on her legs, her developing curves, and her lips. It was lust. Even back then she recognized it, and it made her wet just thinking about it.
Now,
