"Alex... I want you as a man."
He froze, eyes widening, voice catching in his throat. "But… you're my mom… I mean… I… we… this—it's… impossible."
He fumbled for words, trying to reason with her, to make sense of the impossible emotions crashing between them.
Linda held his gaze, heart pounding, a hint of defiance in her voice. "Am I… really?"
Her hand still resting over his racing heart. "You're not my son, Alex. You're not blood. You're a man... a powerful, kind, devastatingly attractive man... who became part of our family because we chose each other."
The distinction hit Alex like lightning. Not son. Not family by blood. A man.
"But… we can't… we shouldn't…" he murmured, his voice tight, as if the words themselves were a struggle against everything he'd been taught to feel.
Linda held his gaze, unwavering. "I tried to fight it," she whispered, leaning closer until he could smell her perfume, feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
