SIN SO SWEET

Lena's POV

Believe me, every time I smell barbecue chicken, my pussy gets wet, and I can't help it.

That's how badly last Thanksgiving fucked me up, I don’t regret it. I got fucked in the most delicious way.

My cousin Peter and I have always had this…thing. We're second cousins, close enough that we grew up together and share the same inside jokes, distant enough that it wasn't noticeable when we vanished together at family events or when we hugged for long.

Everyone always joked we acted more like best friends, than relatives. It was more than that, but no one ever guessed.

He's five years older, dark hair, that quiet aura that makes girls act stupid. It's funny to say, but I have had a crush on him since I was sixteen. It stayed that way until college, we hooked up one night we were drunk at a family reunion. It was quick and messy. We told ourselves that was the last time it happened. Which was a lie. We always found a way, quickie at weddings, “catching up” at his apartment. All those things teenagers do.

The risk made it hotter, followed by months of pretending nothing happened between us.

But this year Thanksgiving, though, we took it on another level, no need to act like we had self-control.

The house was filled with the whole extended family, thirty people in my aunt's big old farm house. Three tables joined together long enough to go across the dining room into the living room.

My little cousins are running about, aunts arguing about recipes, men watching football playing on the screen.

Peter flew in across the country(he had gotten a job), he was looking better than ever, hot in a fitted jeans button-down. The moment he hugged me hello, longer than he should have, moving his hands low on my back. I knew we were fucked(literally). He smiled at me, one that I always fantasied about since I was sixteen.

“I see your boobs got bigger.” He whispered in my ears.

“And you got nastier.” I shot back, fully conscious of my body. Gosh he still hasn't changed.

Dinner started, as usual. We said grace, passing plates, loud conversations, wine flowing. Guess what? We ended up seated across from each other at the near end of the long table.

Knowing the kind of person Peter is, I knew that won't go well for me.

Under the tablecloth, his foot found mine, then his leg slid against mine, sliding up slowly until his calf pressed between my thighs.

I shot a look and mouthed “are you serious?”

He just smirked and slowly sipped his wine, I wouldn't lie. That move was provocative.

Halfway through the main meal, I saw his hands go under the table. Fuck me, what was he trying to do.

My heartbeat increased. Now I regretted wearing a pink skirt and thigh-high leggings on stupid purpose. I felt his fingers brushing my bare knee, higher, higher,