Free Mine to Have: A Claimed Story by Jade Sinner Page A

precarious situation; instead, I find myself standing beyond the glass doors on the ornately tiled pool deck.
    “Lacy!” I shout above the music.
    Neither she nor her friend turn toward me, too lost in their own world. Fuck that. This is my world and she’s in it. She’s going to start being a bigger part of it. I was given the job of taking care of her, and now it is time she takes care of me too.
    “Lacy!”
    Suddenly she turns her attention my in direction, removing her sunglasses, as if seeing me clearer will help her hear what I have to say.
    “In my office, now.” I turn toward her friend. “Go home. This party’s over.”
    Lacy’s plump, pink lower lip disappears behind her teeth as she looks toward her friend. Mindy...Cindy...something like that.
    “And turn off that damn music,” I add as I turn back toward the house. Fuck, I sound like an old man, not a twenty-nine almost thirty-year-old.
    The music fades enough that I can hear her friend. “See ya later, Lace. You better find out what your uncle wants.”
    I don’t turn around as I leave the sound of shifting chairs and feminine whispers outside and walk back to my office.
    Each minute I wait my cock grows harder and harder, as if I even thought that was possible.
    Before everything happened, before both of our parents died, I dated all the time. After all, I was the Bishop heir, the honored son born late in life to tycoon Billings Bishop. Women of all ages willingly spread their legs for me.
    That was three years ago. When my fucking world imploded, so did my sex life. It’s difficult to get it up when you suddenly have more responsibility than you can handle. And then once it all evened out, once I got a handle on everything, I saw the women for what they were, sluts after my name and money. That was until Lacy, until I saw her differently.
    No longer is she just my niece, my stepsister’s daughter. Lacy is a woman.
    Her name isn’t Bishop, but it could be. And as for the money, she has that, or will when she gets a few years older.
    The door to my office opens, slowly, very fucking slowly, and my focus zeroes in on my niece.
    Amused, I lean back in my chair and wait. I’m disappointed that she has a large beach towel now wrapped around her body, but that’s all right. I know it won’t be there long. With her sunglasses now on her head, wide orbits of green—turquoise, really, the color of water in the Caribbean—stare back at me.
    “Shut the door,” I say.
    “I-I’m sorry, Uncle Max.”
    Her arms are covered with goose bumps, and I can’t help but wonder if the cause is the air-conditioning or me. I know I can be intimidating in business. It’s what I do, but is Lacy anxious?
    Maybe she should be.
    As pool water drips from her long hair, a small puddle begins to form near her bare feet.
    I nod my head and tilt my eyes toward the floor. “You’re dripping.”
    Lacy pulls the edge of the towel, the part tucked near her boobs, and unwraps her body. It’s like fucking Christmas, and I can’t help but stare as she drops to her knees to dry the floor.

L acy on her knees . It’s every man’s fantasy.
    Fuck that!
    It’s my fantasy. I’ll kill any other man who has fantasies about my niece, rip them apart, limb by limb.
    “Come here,” I demand.
    As Lacy starts to stand, I correct her. “No, Lacy, stay on your knees. Crawl to me.”
    Her cheeks flush as her turquoise eyes look down and then back up, questioning me through her long lashes. She seems to be considering what I’m telling her to do, her mind fighting what we both know is proper and what our bodies crave. I know it isn’t just mine, not just my dick that wants to slide into her warm, wet cunt, because I can smell her desire. Moments earlier, as she turned her ass toward me wiping the floor, I saw the wetness on the crotch of her bathing suit. It isn’t from the pool; if it were, it wouldn’t be a different shade than the rest of her suit. If it were from the pool, her