I swallowed hard and turned around, almost falling. There was an unexplainable weakness and warmth in my legs as I turned to face the man. It had been a long time since I had felt sexually turned on just by someone's presence. I had never felt that. Without physical touch, I had never felt horny. I had not even really been touched in a sexual way before that made me feel horny. I was simply uncomfortable with most of it. 

Suddenly I remembered Marcus and my heart clenched painfully. Then there was a sudden form of guilt that Marcus had never made me feel sexually aroused as much as this strange man had. Maybe he had noticed that and that was what-

"Hey," he whispered sensually, cutting off my train of thought. He was wearing a black dress shirt that was unbuttoned all the way down. His chest was ripped with packs of abs that disappeared dangerously into the low-waist jeans he was wearing. "You're staring." He breathed in a ragged manner. He seemed to move a bit closer to me and his hands leaned on the counter behind me, trapping me. I watched as his muscles moved with every slight movement of his body. It was appealing in the most unholy manner. Something about them made me want to trace those muscles with my fingers.

I looked up, finally seeing the face of the man who had grabbed the cereal for me. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen with the most chiseled jawline. His eyes were a dark enchanting stormy gray colour with flecks of blue and green in them. A muscle in his jaw ticked slightly and then he gave me a small smile. He had a dimple on one side of his face which added icing to the cake. 

How could anyone be so perfect?

This man was a literal Greek god. He did not look like a real human being but rather like a carefully sculpted work of art. His skin was well-tanned as well; the definition of sunkissed male beauty. 

"Are you done staring?" He asked, searching my eyes with his grey ones. There was a slight smirk on his face. I sucked in a sharp and hasty breath trying to move backward but I was trapped by the kitchen counter and his muscular tattooed arms. His smirk turned into a lopsided grin. This man seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. 

Swallowing hard, I finally mustered the courage to speak after finding my voice. "Excuse me."

He took a step backwards, slowly removing his hands from the countertop and watched me as I walked towards the island with the box of cereal. My legs wobbled with each step I took, and I almost fell as I sat on a stool. I avoided his eyes but I could feel his piercing gaze on my back. His eyes seemed to be following me.

"You forgot to get a bowl," he smiled when I finally looked up at him. "Are you going to eat cereal straight from the box?" His eyebrows were raised comically as he spoke. 

 Opening another cupboard, he grabbed a bowl and spoon for me, then opened the fridge and got some milk. "Warm or cold milk? Which do you prefer for your cereal."

"Cold," I swallowed. My brain was foggy.

"Weird," he muttered walking over to me. From behind me, he dropped the bowl in front of me and poured some milk into the bowl. Then he grabbed the cereal box from my shaky hands and poured it for me. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," I whispered shakily. 

"You have a nice back," he commented. His fingers touched them briefly and then briskly, he walked to the opposite end of the island and took a seat. "I'm Glen."

"Addison ," I replied. 

"Addison Rodriguez?" He asked. 

Nodding, I took the first bite of my cereal. 

"You have a powerful name Addison Rodriguez. It's beautiful."

"Thank you." I was feeling shy in his presence and was very cautious of every bite of the meal I took. 

"Sorry, there's nothing better for you to eat. The chef is on leave and the pantry has not been stocked. The house is pretty new."

"It's okay really," I muttered.

"I'll cook you a proper meal tomorrow morning."

"Oh, no you don't have to."

"I will," he winked. "So who are you?"

"Addison ," I repeated. 

"That's your name, not who you are."

"Um..." I was unsure of how to reply to him. "I'm Leslie 's friend."

"So the best friend huh?" He had a grin. "She is always on a phone call with you even when you two aren't talking but doing stuff."

"Yeah." I took another bite of the cereal. 

"I'm her stepfather," he said. "Or stepfather-to-be."

I could not control myself from spitting out the food from my mouth. "What?" I spluttered. I thought Leslie  had been exaggerating about her mother's fiance. 

He grinned and cut a piece of kitchen paper and began to wipe the table. I stood up hastily to grab it from him since it was my fault the island was a mess.

As our hands touched, I could feel a crackle of electricity pass between us. Slowly, he turned his head to face me. My eyes melted into his. To say the least, I was starstruck. 

I removed my hands slowly from his and he let the paper towel drop on the table. He cut another bit while staring at me. Then with intentionality in his eyes, he held my face with his left hand and used his right hand to wipe my lips with the paper towel. Afterwards, he threw it in a bin, his hands still holding my face.

The proximity between us was too close for comfort. Our noses were almost rubbing and our lips were only a few inches from each other's. Instinctively, I bit my lip slowly. His thumb brushed my lips, pulling them away from my teeth. I could swear his dipped lower.

"I see that you have met my husband," a voice said, interrupting the moment.

I jumped back in fear and gasped, turning around to face Heather, Leslie 's mom. Surprisingly, Glen maintained a composed aura. He stepped back gently and smiled, "Yes, we met a few minutes ago."

I watched as he walked over to her with a smile on his face. He caressed her face gently and planted a soft kiss on her lips which made her smile. For some reason, rage built up within me as I watched the romantic gesture. 

"I'd say Addison is a lot like Leslie ," he gestured towards the island. "They are both clumsy."

"Really?" Heather raised her brows. "I like to think they are polar opposites."

"I'll clean up the mess and be off to bed," I smiled tightly at both of them. I filled a bowl with water from the sink and used a napkin to wipe off the surface. 

"Oh don't worry about it," Glenwalked over to me. He carefully pulled the napkin out of my hands. I shot him a glare but his smile remained intact. "I'll ask a maid to-"

"I'm already almost done," I said with gritted teeth, snatching the napkin away from his hand. I finished wiping off the island as quickly as I could and cleared up, unnerved by the scrutiny of Heather and her husband-to-be. 

"Goodnight Addison," he called out as I stormed out of the kitchen.

"Is it me, or does she seem off?" Heather's voice faded away as I moved further away. 

Rage was burning through my core. I felt stupid and used for some reason I could not fathom. I stomped up the stairs and to the closest bathroom I could find. 

All men were the same. Glen's behaviour made me think of Marcus. He had no ounce of remorse on his face and I wondered if he was the same with other women. And why had Leslie's mother not reacted negatively? Was it something he did often that she chose to ignore? Or had it not been obvious to her? 

Thinking of him as a cheat made him repulsive but something about the way he had moved away from me so effortlessly and gone to kiss her like nothing was amiss was also a turn-on. Who knew something as forbidden as that could make me feel this way?

Was it because it was him? Why hadn't Marcus made me feel this way?

Was it because he had cheated on me and not cheated with me on another person?

"Okay, Addison  you're just in denial," I whispered to myself adjusting my hair in the mirror. I gasped as I realized my mascara had run down my face and I looked like a hobo due to the tears I had cried earlier on. "Fuck!" I gasped, turning on the faucet. I washed my face rapidly till I got rid of all the stains. Then I tried wrapping my hair in a bun but it failed because I didn't have a scrunchie.

"Sure, I'll get it tomorrow." Glen's voice pierced through the air followed by the sound of a door clicking shut. "I'll be back late at night though."

His voice made the throbbing sensation return to the space between my legs. I could feel myself dripping like a leaking tap. "Fuck," I muttered. "Addison , you're in so much denial."

Inhaling, I raised my dress a little higher and slid my hands up my thighs. I allowed my fingers to roam about slowly, my heart beating against my chest rapidly as though I was doing something forbidden. 

Maybe it was forbidden because I was thinking about my best friend's stepdad. Imagining it was his muscular arms roaming beneath my dress. I could feel his presence and his smell intoxicated me some more. Something about that gave me the confidence to move my hands deeper. 

"Bloody hell!" I gasped, pulling my fingers out and adjusting my dress. I swallowed hard and shifted on my foot. "You should knock," I told him, finally realizing the reason why I had suddenly perceived his scent and felt his presence. That part had not been a part of my imagination. I could feel my face burning in embarrassment as he stared at me.

"I did not expect anyone to use this bathroom," he said coolly. He was wearing only pyjama trousers and his arms were folded across his chest as he stood in the doorway. "There's a bathroom in Leslie 's room." He said like I was the one trespassing. 

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, wanting to know if he actually saw me. 

"Long enough."

"Okay," I squeaked, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me. At this moment, I could die of shame. "Excuse me."

Instead of moving away from the door, he took a step further in. His hands grabbed my waist gently and with ease, he placed me on the countertop. His left hand rested on my knee comfortably and it began to slide up in a painfully pleasurable way till they were only inches away from my panties. He squeezed gently. "Where did you stop?" 

"T-t-this sh-shouldn't be happening," I stammered. 

"Did you finish yourself off?" He asked, squeezing my thigh again and moving closer to me. The heat between my legs intensified and I quivered slightly. "Or you want me to help you?" 

His voice has dropped to a seductive murmur.

"I don't need help," I choked. It was a lie and I knew he could tell. I wanted him so badly but this was wrong. He was the fiancé of my best friend's mother. "This is wrong."

"Wrong, but it is what you want." His hands slid my underwear aside. "You are awfully wet."

The moan came out before I could stop it and my legs clenched together. I rolled my eyes backwards in pleasure and closed them.

"No one has ever made you feel this way?" He asked. "What about that little boyfriend of yours you and Leslie  are always talking about?" 

"Get lost," I hissed, slapping his hands away.