Craving My Boyfriend's Uncle

Craving My Boyfriend's Uncle

Lecia Wipere · Completed · 210.0k Words

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Introduction

My boyfriend locked me out.
A killer had a knife to my throat.
He watched through the glass and did nothing.

The man who kicked the door down?
His uncle.
The one my boyfriend said was "dangerous."
He was right.

That night, I slept in the uncle's bed.
Wrapped in his arms.
Safe for the first time in two years.

My ex is begging me to come back.
His uncle just pressed a gun into my palm and said:
"Next time anyone touches you, you know what to do."

I should be scared.
I should run.
But when I look at him… I don't want to be saved. I want to be his.

This is a full-length steamy forbidden romance. No cheating. HEA guaranteed.

Chapter 1

Stephanie Johnson's POV

"Stephanie, what's going on with you today? This is the fourth mistake you've made!"

In the training hall, I zoned out and missed a beat. Deborah Garcia called me out immediately.

She walked up to me with her arms crossed, her eyes cold and sharp. "You're the captain. When you're off, the whole team suffers. The championship is three weeks away. If you keep this up, I'll bench you."

I raised my hand to wipe the sweat from my neck. Before I could say anything, I heard a mocking laugh from behind me.

"She hasn't had her head in the game lately." Vice-captain Lily Martin wiped her neck with a towel, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Haven't you guys noticed? Lorenzo hasn't been around to watch practice. Didn't he used to camp out by the door every day?"

I bit my lip hard and said nothing, but my body was already trembling.

Lorenzo Smith is my boyfriend. We've been having problems lately, and I can barely focus on anything, let alone training.

"Speaking of Lorenzo..." Another cheerleader jumped in. "I saw him with Jessica at the coffee shop yesterday. Right, Jessica?"

She looked up at the girl on the far right of the group.

Jessica Wilson was slowly pulling her hair into a high ponytail. Her eyes slid toward me, and a challenging smile curved at the corner of her mouth.

Jessica and I have been at each other's throats since freshman year. We fought our way up from backup cheerleaders to competing for captain, and I won.

Everyone knew she resented it. Everyone could see she'd been circling Lorenzo like a shark ever since.

"Alright, everyone shut it! Are you here to train or gossip?" Deborah cut through the chatter. "Back to work."

The training hall fell silent.

I stood there, sweat still dripping down my face, but my back felt like ice.

When training finally ended, I headed to the sink area to wash my face.

I cranked the faucet on full blast, bent down, and splashed cold water over my face. The shock of it cleared my head, if only for a moment.

"Stephanie, are you okay?"

I turned around. My friend Emily Thomas stood behind me, worry written all over her face.

"I'm fine." I forced a smile.

"Don't lie to me. Everyone's talking. It's because of Lorenzo, isn't it?" She held my gaze, refusing to look away.

I sighed and kept my voice low. "Yesterday was my birthday. Lorenzo didn't show up."

Emily's eyes widened. "Didn't he explain?"

I stared at the wall across from us, trying to keep my voice steady. "He said some freshman on his team got sick and he took her to the hospital. But more than one person saw him with Jessica at the coffee shop."

"So he lied to you?" Her voice turned sharp with anger.

I shook my head, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "It doesn't matter anymore. I just want to focus on practice and forget about everything else."

She squeezed my shoulder gently. "You're right. You worked too hard for that captain spot to let this mess with your head."

She stayed and talked with me for a while, and I felt a little steadier.

During afternoon practice, I barely made any mistakes. Even Deborah's expression softened.

Training ended at four. I was heading back to the dorm when a long shadow fell across my path.

Lorenzo was leaning against a sycamore tree, one leg bent with his foot propped against the trunk, twirling his car keys. His hair was windblown and messy, and his dark gray hoodie made his shoulders look even broader.

The moment he spotted me, he straightened up, shoved the keys in his pocket, and walked toward me.

"Stephanie." He called my name.

I didn't stop. I walked faster. I didn't want to deal with him right now.

"Stephanie! Wait!" He caught up quickly and grabbed my wrist.

"What?" I tried to pull away, but he's a football player with serious strength. My wrist didn't budge.

"Just listen to me." His voice was tight with urgency. "About Jessica—I already told you. I took her to the hospital, and on the way back we stopped for coffee. If you don't believe me, I'll show you my phone. All the messages are right there."

He pulled out his phone and held it in front of my face.

I scanned the screen quickly. It matched his story. My doubts eased, just a little.

"Fine. I didn't say I didn't believe you." I pushed the phone back toward him.

"Babe, I knew you'd understand!" His face relaxed instantly, and he pulled something from his hoodie pocket and pressed it into my palm.

It was a small blue velvet box.

He flipped it open with one hand. Inside was a delicate necklace with a tiny sapphire pendant that gleamed like a frozen teardrop.

"Didn't you say you lost your necklace last week? This is to replace it." His tone was soft, almost pleading.

He lifted the necklace from the box, stepped behind me, gently brushed the loose strands of hair away from my neck, and fastened the clasp.

"Looks perfect on you." He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that clean, boyish way.

Seeing that smile, I couldn't help but smile back. The anger from earlier melted away almost completely.

"Are you free tomorrow?" I asked.

He hesitated for just a second, then nodded quickly. "Yeah! Yeah, what's up?"

"Come with me to morning practice." I took a few steps forward, then turned back. "Six o'clock. Don't be late."

"You got it, my queen." He raised three fingers in a mock salute, his expression dead serious.

He finally made me laugh. The corner of my mouth lifted, and he leaned in quickly to kiss my forehead before stepping back, hands shoved in his pockets, grinning like a kid who'd just gotten away with stealing cookies.

I touched the necklace at my throat, a small smile lingering on my face.

I still loved Lorenzo. And loving him meant I had to choose to trust him.

Early the next morning, I stood by the iron fence at the track entrance, right on time.

The morning air was sharp and thin. I started my warm-up stretches.

Six o'clock came and went. Lorenzo didn't show. Ten more minutes passed. Still nothing.

Just as I was about to give up, I heard laughter behind me.

I turned around. Lorenzo was standing on the other side of the track, wearing a dark blue athletic shirt with a white towel draped over his shoulder. His hair was damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower.

Standing next to him were Jessica and a few other girls. Jessica wore a pink tank top and white shorts, her long hair loose over her shoulders, one hand resting casually on Lorenzo's arm. They looked comfortable. Too comfortable.

When she saw me, Jessica spoke first, her laugh cold and cutting. "Hey, Lorenzo, your little puppy's here looking for you."

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