Claimed by My Stepson The Secret on the Highway

CLICK!

The moment the car door closed, I knew I was in trouble.

My husband, Edward had crammed the passenger seat and the trunk full of things: folding chairs, an ice chest, snacks, and those abnormally heavy black suitcases.

There was absolutely no room left in the passenger seat.

In the backseat, all that remained was a narrow gap down the middle.

"Sit on Ryan's lap," he said calmly yet commandingly. "It's not safe out there. We should leave together."

Ryan leaned back in the seat with his long legs casually stretched out, his cold gaze sweeping through the rearview mirror.

At eighteen, he was already half a head taller than Edward, with shoulders broad enough to block half the car window.

I'd been married into the family for three years and knew vaguely that his father wasn't in an ordinary line of business, but I'd never dared to ask too many questions.

As for Ryan, he was always silent and obedient yet gave off a sense of danger that seeped into your very bones.

I had no choice but to sit down.

My skirt was very short.

To stay cool, I wore a light-colored cotton skirt with only a thin pair of white panties underneath.

The moment I sat down, my thigh pressed directly against the rough fabric of his jeans.

Hot.

Hard.

His muscles were taut in an almost inhuman way, like a beast ready to pounce at any moment.

Edward started the engine.

The car pulled smoothly onto the road.

He glanced at the rearview mirror occasionally, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

BUZZ!

His phone vibrated.

He answered it in a very low voice, saying, "Everything's in the car. Don't follow too closely."

My heart sank.

About twenty minutes later, Ryan's breathing gradually evened out.

His head tilted slightly to one side, and his eyelashes cast a faint shadow beneath his eyelids.

I sighed in relief.

However, his body was too hot.

Through his jeans, the heat seeped through the fabric and made the insides of my thighs tingle.

Due to the road conditions, he shifted slightly now and then.

With every movement, I could feel his thighs more distinctly against my hips—firm, scorching hot, and radiating a unique young man's strength that hadn't yet fully settled.

I tried to sit as straight as possible with my hands on my knees, as if to maintain a shred of dignity.

But the space was too cramped.

The slightest pressure caused me to sink deeper.

The hem of my skirt was crumpled beneath me, and the fabric brushed gently against my skin with every bump.

I began to feel restless.

Not because of the heat nor because I was tired.

It was because I suddenly realized that I was sitting on the lap of a young man—my stepson.

In the rearview mirror, Edward's profile appeared calm and focused.

Occasionally, he would glance back at the backseat, then return his gaze to the road ahead.

Forced to remain in this position, time stretched endlessly before me.

Ryan's breathing was light but clearly audible.

Warm breath occasionally brushed against the back of my neck, carrying a faint, inhuman, metallic-sweet scent.

My heartbeat quickened instinctively.

I wanted to shift away slightly, but each attempt made my balance shakier, pressing me down deeper.

I bit my lower lip and forced myself to look out the window.

The scenery on either side of the highway rushed by.

The sun was still high in the sky, and heat waves rose from the asphalt.

Yet, the air inside the car grew heavier and heavier—so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

Ryan was still asleep.

I already regretted not insisting on sitting in the small space between the luggage.

Even worse, I could feel my underwear starting to get wet.