A Game of Lies with My Ex's Uncle

She wanted revenge. He wanted obedience. The lies gave them both.

“This isn’t free, you know.”

Something heavy from inside my dream slammed into me hard enough to snap my eyes wide open. I woke in an unfamiliar room, my head throbbing, confusion pressing in from all sides. After forcing my vision to adjust, the space slowly came into focus—along with a strange man curled under the blanket beside me.

Wait. What?!

Panic surged. I tried to piece together whatever chain of events had landed me in this insane situation. Everything was fog—blurred fragments flashing through my head. Nothing made sense except … oh God. The alcohol. No wonder last night was a complete blackout.

When no answers came, I opted for something more practical. Carefully, I peeled back the rumpled white sheets and slipped free. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until my feet finally touched the cold floor. I rose onto my toes, scanning for wherever my clothes had apparently been flung.

“Trying to sneak out, huh?”

The voice shattered the silence—and nearly stopped my heart. I turned and found him watching me, one brow raised, his head propped on his elbow.

“Trying to seduce me, huh?” The memory flashed without warning. There it was!

Suddenly aware of my situation, I yanked the blanket up to cover my naked body—momentarily forgetting it had been covering his too. My eyes widened at what I’d just exposed, and I quickly turned my back.

“Well, waking up in a strange room tends to make a person a little jumpy,” I muttered, aiming for casual. My voice didn’t quite cooperate.

A low chuckle filled the room.

And just like that, the same voice slid through my memory again.

He laughed softly against my ear. “I don’t usually play around.” Loud music pulsed in the background.

What exactly happened last night?

“Not the smoothest escape plan I’ve ever seen,” he commented behind me. I heard the shift of sheets—then the quiet rustle of him getting dressed.

“Look, I know this sounds cliché, but I don’t remember anything.” I kept my tone even, hoping—for once—he might cooperate instead of making this more embarrassing than it already was.

“Well, I remember us having a very enjoyable night.”

Even with my back to him, I could practically hear the smug smile in his voice.

Right. Cooperation was clearly off the table.

Assuming he was dressed, I turned, fully intending to level him with a warning look. Instead, my focus betrayed me, landing squarely on his still-bare upper body.

My hand skimmed over his stomach while he pressed kisses along my neck. With one smooth motion, he pushed me back onto the bed—

I shook my head sharply, shoving the memory away. My gaze snapped back to his eyes, holding steady so he wouldn’t see the conflict threatening to surface on my face. I tightened the blanket around myself and cleared my throat.

“I really don’t remember anything,” I repeated, because apparently my brain had nothing better to offer.

He sat on the edge of the bed, bracing himself with both hands behind him. “Do you always wake up with strangers in random rooms?” he drawled. “With that impressively classic I-don’t-remember excuse?”

Heat rushed to my face. “No. Not exactly. This is not a usual occurrence for me.”

“Which part?” he pressed. “The waking up with strangers? Or the I-don’t-remember excuse?”

I let out an irritated breath. He grinned, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. God. How old was he? Thirty-five? Forty?! Would it be wildly inappropriate if I just asked?

“So,” he said lightly, “what do you want?”

“What do you want?” he’d whispered last night, warm breath brushing my lips, his fingers sliding down the line of my spine.

“Make me forget,” I’d murmured, already looping my arms around his neck. “Just for a little while.”

And then his hand had moved to the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss so deep and devastating.

I hissed softly now, eyes squeezing shut. This was a mistake. God, last night was definitely a mistake.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

***

CONTENT NOTE & DISCLAIMER

While writing this story, I want to make sure readers understand the context, dynamics, and boundaries within it. Some elements may feel sensitive to certain readers, so here are a few things to keep in mind before you continue:

📌 Explicit sexual content (consensual, adult only)This story contains explicit sexual scenes between consenting adults, including dynamics that may involve elements of power play. However, all interactions are built on clear consent—not coercion.

📌 Age gap relationshipThere is a significant age difference between the main characters. This gap is not just a number—it influences their mindset, communication style, and overall relationship dynamic.

📌 Taboo-adjacent relationshipThe relationship in this story may be considered socially unconventional or morally “gray,” as it involves a connection within the same extended family circle.

📌 Strong languageThe dialogue reflects adult, everyday speech and includes profanity used in emotional moments, conflict, and playful banter.

If any of these elements make you uncomfortable, it’s completely okay to step away.But if you’re here for something a little messy, a little complicated, and full of tension—welcome, and enjoy the ride. 😏

Love, Anne Joyce

The Day Before

Addy: I saw Jeremy hugging a woman at the Hudson Flux. 

It was that text message from my best friend that brought me to one of the city’s most famous hotels. 

I didn’t fully believe her. She could’ve seen it wrong. Mistaken someone else for Jeremy. Manhattan is full of Asian men in tailored coats. It wouldn’t be impossible.

But ten percent of me needed proof that she was wrong.

A quiet unease settled in as I approached the reception desk, where a polished woman greeted me with a warm, professional smile. “Welcome to Hudson Flux. How may I assist you?”

I took a slow breath and arranged my expression—one of my more useful skills. “Hi. A friend and I are planning a surprise for someone who just flew in from China. A small welcome thing. Here, actually. Unfortunately, he’s not answering his phone—classic him.” I added a light laugh. “My friend’s name is Jeremy