IN MY FATHER-IN-LAW'S BED: HIS TWISTED GAME

CHEATED

CHAPTER TWO

SUMMER’S POV

I huddled against the leather door, pressing my shoulder into the cold handle as if I could somehow melt through the metal and vanish into the night. My heart was a frantic bird trapped in a cage, thudding so violently against my ribs that I was certain Sebastian could hear it over the low hum of the engine.

I risked a glance at him—just a flicker of movement through my lashes.

The passing streetlights cut harsh, rhythmic lines across his profile. His jaw was a jagged ridge of tension, his expression so terrifyingly steady that it made my own internal collapse feel pathetic.

I forced my gaze back to the road just as we banked into a sharp turn and… realization hit me. My breath hitched.

"This… this isn't the way to my house," I whispered, my voice cracking like dry parchment as I gripped the edge of the seat. "Sebastian, where are you going?"

"You’re staying at my estate tonight. Darius isn't at home and I need to keep you in check." His eyes remained fixed on the dark asphalt ahead as if he was delivering a news I was supposed to be pleased about.

"What?" I mouthed trying to swallow the bitter pill.

"He called and said he’s staying at a hotel for an important business." Sebastian said, his tone clipped and professional, though there was a dark undercurrent I couldn't place. "There is no reason for you to sit alone in an empty house, Summer."

A sob threatened to bubble up, but I choked it down, the irony searing my throat. The father was playing the role of the protector while the son was busy burying himself inside my own sister. It was a sick, twisted joke, and I was the punchline.

"Why were you drinking like that?" he asked suddenly, the question stabbing me right in the chest like a blade, sharp and probing. "Did something happen?"

I stared out the window, watching the blurred trees. "Nothing happened. I just wanted a drink."

I couldn't tell him.

How could I say the words out loud?

Your son is a traitor and my sister is a daylight b***h?

Or; Your supposed good son isn't gonna be doing business in that hotel— he could at least if the business was screwing my sister. I couldn't bear the pity that would surely follow in those cold, grey eyes.

He clearly knew it was a flat lie but he didn't push.

After what felt like forever we reached his estate, the iron gates swinging open like the jaws of a beast.

He parked the car and was out and around to my side before I could even find the door handle. He wrenched the door open and reached for me, but I slapped his hand away.

"I can walk," I snapped, fueled by a sudden, bitter burst of pride.

I stepped out, but the combination of five martinis and six-inch heels was a death sentence. My knees buckled immediately. Sebastian’s arms were around me in a heartbeat, his chest a wall of solid heat against my back.

"You drank half a bottle of gin and you’re still trying to be difficult," he growled, his breath hot against my temple. “It wouldn't hurt if I help you…will it?”

His gaze was fixed on mine and for some reason, it intensified the heat pooling in my stomach.

"Where is your wife?" I finally mouthed ignoring his question. On a normal note she'd be out cradling me into her arms after hearing I was coming over— which I want to believe Sebastian told her.

"She’s at her sister’s for the weekend. She won’t be back tonight." He brushed off.

I blinked rapidly trying to understand what he meant.

We were the only ones going to be in his house?

My heart did a slow, heavy roll in my chest but I pushed it down. I'd abstained for three years and I could and still conquer the urge.

I let him guide me into the house but immediately we got in, I tried to pull away, aiming for the guest wing, but I turned too fast. My ankle snapped with a sickening pop.

"Ah!" I collapsed, a sharp cry escaping my lips. Before I could hit the floor, Sebastian's arms wrapped around my waist pulling me to rest against his chest. Without a word, he scooped me up, his arms hooking under my knees and back as if I weighed nothing at all and raced upstairs.

He didn't head for the guest room. He walked straight into his master suite.

He laid me on the expansive bed and disappeared, returning moments later with a pack of ice.

Slowly, he knelt between my legs on the floor, his large, calloused hands surprisingly gentle as he pressed the ice to my swelling ankle. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me that I hated.

"Did he hurt you, Summer?" he asked, looking up. His gaze was intense, searching. "Tell me the truth."

"It's just... a misunderstanding," I lied, my voice small.

The last thing I wanted was his shoulder to cry on and it was not ironical to report a son to his father.

Darius and Sebastian were never on such good terms, just maintained relationships for pack purposes but that didn't mean her secret was safe with him. That didn't mean he didn't do his fatherly duties, because if it weren't that he had definitely f****d her by now.

She had always noticed the desire in his eyes even now but he'd always held back just like her.

"Is someone who makes you cry like this worth fixing?" His eyes held an unfamiliar ache and softness.

No. It didn't.

Darius wasn't worth it but I loved him. I loved him.

Seeing he wouldn't be getting a response anytime soon, he stood up and walked into the bathroom.

I sat there, the silence of the room amplifying the images in my head. No matter how hard I stopped myself, I could still imagine them tangled in bed and him thrusting into my sister— Beatrice.

“Is someone who makes you cry like this worth fixing?" Sebastian’s question rang in my head.

Suddenly, anger consumed me, outrunning the sadness.

I didn't want to know the temptation that drove them together, I also had to fight my own temptations to remain faithful.

So why can't he? Why can't her?

If he could throw our life away for a cheap thrill, why was I sitting here playing the grieving wife?

I wanted to burn it all down.

I wanted to forget I ever loved him.

If he could cheat and give way to his fantasy, I could do the f*****g same!

The bathroom door suddenly pushed open, snapping me out of my thought and Sebastian emerged, shrouded in steam.

He was wearing nothing but a grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His chest was broad, mapped with muscle and light hair, water droplets trailing down the center of his stomach and disappearing into the fabric. He looked like a god carved from obsidian.

I swallowed hard, the heat pooling in my stomach intensifying but this time I didn't push it down.

I stood up, ignoring the throbbing in my ankle and limped toward him until I was inches away.

His gaze locked on mine, his hot, frantic breath fanning my face. It was obvious he was feeling the heat as much as I was.

Slowly, I raised my hand and slowly began running my finger down his chest.

"Summer," he warned, grabbing my hand off him. "You're drunk. Stop now, before I lose control." His voice was a low vibration.

"Make me forget," I whispered, looking up at him with eyes clouded by pain and gin. "Please. Just make me forget."

His eyes scanned mine as if waiting to confirm what I was asking. Before he could bail out, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

He stood frozen for a while letting me savor his lips and finally he pushed me away. “Do you know what you're asking for? Look at me! You might regret this!"

A small smile kept onto my lips watching him trying to convince himself he didn't want me. He didn't want this.

My hand clasped his cheek as I drew closer. "I won't regret it” with that I slammed my lips on it and this time he didn't push me away.

He let out a sound that was half-groan, half-growl as he reciprocated— hard.

His hands slammed into my waist, pulling me flush against him as he reclaimed the kiss with a terrifying hunger. He backed me into the wall, his mouth devouring mine, his tongue demanding entry.

He was so rough, but the thrill of it sent me over the edge. I wanted more and he didn't intend to make me wait.

He yanked my dress upward, the fabric bunching around my waist before he pulled it over my head and tossed it aside. My bra followed.

I fumbled with the drawstring of his sweatpants, desperate to feel him, desperate for the friction to drown out the memory of the hotel room. I wanted him deep in me now!

Soon, we were both bared to the air.

He hoisted me up, my legs wrapping instinctively around his thick waist excitedly.

He didn't go to the bed.

He pinned me against the cold plaster of the wall, his hands catching my wrists and pinning them above my head.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice raw.

I looked. His eyes were dark with a possessive fire that made my soul tremble.

"Say my name."

"Sebastian," I gasped.

He arched his back and drove into me—hard and deep.

A sharp cry tore from my throat as he began thrusting into me, my legs buckling. His pace increasing at every thrust.

My legs tightened around his waist. He was wretching me but still I wanted more. I'd never been f****d like that. I used to think Darius was a monster in bed but now I knew I was capping.

Every thrust felt like he was marking me, stripping away the name of his son and replacing it with his own.

I buried my face in his neck, biting his shoulder as the pleasure became a violent, beautiful ache.

He moved faster, his muscles corded and straining, his breath coming in ragged hitches. I was spinning, falling, the world narrowing down to the sensation of him filling me, breaking me, and putting me back together.

"Sebastian!" I screamed, feeling my ecstasy building.

He finally freed my hands and immediately, I draped it around his neck clinging for dear life as he ransacked into me.

I shivered as my release shattered through me, cascading down my legs, a release that left me sobbing against his chest.

He groaned, his body shuddering as he released deep inside me, holding me so tight I thought he might crack my ribs.

Slowly our breathing stabled and I just clung on to him not believing i actually f****d my father-in-law.

Slowly, he carried me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of the violence we’d just shared.

My eyes were heavy already, the exhaustion finally catching up to me and within twenty minutes, I was already drifting to sleep.

As I drifted, I felt him lean over me. His lips brushed my temple, and his voice was a ghost of a whisper in the dark.

"I’m sorry, little bird. But this was the only way I could lure you into my arms."