Romance: Indecent Love

I pulled up the driveway and parked the car, happy to arrive at my front door. It had been a long day at work. I stopped for groceries on the way home. Driving here, all I could think about was putting everything away then pouring a nice glass of wine while I took some time for myself before dinner.
I got out of my car and started emptying the trunk. As I turned toward the house I heard cursing coming from the garage. I headed that way to take the side door. Instead, the noise came from behind the garage. I found my husband's son, Billy, fumbling with the engine of his tractor, again. He turned and saw me with the bags.
"Oh good," Billy stated with a happy sigh. "I'm glad you're here. I could use your help if you don’t mind," he asked, pointing to his tractor.
"Alright, let me get these inside. I still have a couple more in the car. I have to put these away and then I’ll come back out to help. Is that alright?”
“Sure," he agreed, nodding his head. "I'd help carry them in but I'm all greasy from the engine," he stated apologetically.
"It's okay. I got it."
"You might want to change while you're in there," he half shouted in my direction as I turned the corner to enter the house through the kitchen. "This is really filthy. You don’t want mess up your nice clothes."

“Got it,” I yelled back as I continued into the house.
I've been married to Billy's father, Mark, for seven years, after we dated for three years. I've watched Billy grown from a little boy into a nice young man. He was about eleven when Mark and I had met. I never tried to be the 'new mommy' to the boy. He had had a bad enough time dealing with the divorce of his parents without me trying to be another mother. I focused on my relationship with Mark and just took it one thing at a time with Billy.

Over the years Billy and I had formed a relationship that worked for us. I rarely told him what to do from a parental stand point but I would drop hints of warning if I noticed him heading for trouble. The last thing I wanted was for him to piss off his father. Sometimes Billy listened, and sometimes he didn't. These last few years, his teen years, had been a bit touch and go. He'd had his share of girls, drugs, tickets, and just plain bad luck. But none of that was so severe for Mark to send him off packing.
Billy was almost twenty years old now and finally enrolled in college. He'd finally got his act together. I was proud of him. He was starting to take life seriously. To help Billy out, Mark insisted that he stay at home while juggling a job and school so he wouldn't have the burden of bills to worry about just yet. 
So my coming home and being asked to help repair the engine of a tractor wasn't an unusual occurrence. I'd just change into my work clothes and see what I could to do to help. I put the bags on the table, got the rest from my car. I closed the front door on my way back inside the house. I put the groceries away and turned to go to the bedroom to change.  Just then, I heard a stream of cursing from the garage and a loud bang. Darting to the door to the garage, I yelled “Are you okay out there?”

“Yeah,” I heard his muffled response as I headed out to join him and see what was wrong.
"I need you to hold this, though!"
Without hesitation I peered into the engine of the tractor, meeting Billy's gaze from the underside. "You couldn't wait fifteen minutes?"
"I thought I could hold it and get that in there myself. Can you grab that and hold it still for me?" 
Shifting my gaze I saw the 'that' in question. It was swaying back and forth in Billy's hand. I reached in and took hold of the... whatever it was and held it as still as possible. "Why can't they make these things easier to get to when you have to fix them?" I asked rhetorically.
Billy slid out from under the tractor and came around to where I stood. "Cause then you wouldn't have to pay some mechanic to put it up on a lift to fix it for you. It’s a conspiracy." He leaned further into the engine, reaching his hands in beside mine. "Can you move your hand without..."
As soon as he started the question I knew he needed more room. We had been through this before. I shifted my hand around the part. I might not know what it was called, but I'd helped Mark and Billy fix enough engines in tractors, trucks and other machines to anticipate what they needed. 
"Perfect! Hold it just like that."
He stepped closer to me in order to reach in and start to turn the screws to hold it in place. The left side of his body was pressing up against the right half of my back. I could feel the pressure of his hip against my rear. The remnant of his shower gel and shampoo filled my nostrils as he huffed and puffed, still cursing under his breath, to get the damn bolts in.
"Son of a bitch!" he bellowed, and I heard the distinctive sound of a bolt clattering down through the engine to land on softly on the grass beneath the tractor. "You still got that?"
"Yeah," I answered, still not knowing what 'that' was, but it didn't matter. I knew what he was talking about.
He straightened up and crawled under the tractor for the bolt, cursing and muttering the whole time. His fingers crept though the grass, trying to locate it. I couldn't help but smile. 'He is so much like his father,' I thought to myself.
He stood back up and pulled his shirt off in agitation, tossing it off to the side. "I hope this is the right size," he said, looking closely at the screw in his hands. "I'll be very unhappy if the clerk sold me the wrong fucking part." 
I was supposed to be looking at his hands and studying that bolt around in his fingers while he checked the grooves. Somehow though, I saw through that piece of metal to the muscle tone of his tanned chest. It was hard to believe that this was the same scrawny, skinny little boy of a few years ago. He filled out nicely as he grew up, building muscle tone with hard labor, getting a tan while mowing lawns or working the fields.
He looked up at me by only moving his eyes and I met his gaze easily. "Want to give it one more try?" I asked.
He didn't answer me as he raised his head to look me fully in the face. In a split second, his expression changed. It was now guarded and solicitous. 
"What's wrong?" I asked, as he walked around me to try again. This time he avoided contact with me while he reached in to secure the part.
"Nothing," he replied yet his tone suggested otherwise. He seemed tense all of a sudden and I had no idea what had caused it. The change was unexpected and starting to make me uncomfortable.
I remained silent while he scrambled to get the screws in. I didn’t want him to know that the part was starting to get heavy in my fingers. My wrist was cramping from holding it at an odd angle. I kept telling myself, 'he just needs one more minute', willing myself to not let the part slip out of place.
Suddenly he dropped the bolt again. I wasn't so sure it had been accidental this time. He breathed in deeply and placed his hands on the fender of the tractor.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked. "Maybe I can give it a try. This thing is starting to get heavy. We could switch." 
"You have no fucking idea what you do sometimes, do you?" he snapped at me in agitation.
"Excuse me?" I returned indignantly. "I know you're agitated about the tractor but that's no reason to take it out on me! I'm the one trying to help you!"
I expected him to turn away mumbling an apology and crawl under the tractor for the bolt. We would continue as though nothing had happened. That is how it always was when he got wrapped around the axle unnecessarily.
He started to turn his head away but then stopped. His eyes slid to their corners to look at me before he slowly turned his head to face me fully. "No," he stated with conviction. "I'm not letting it slide this time." He moved closer to me, making me tilt my head up just that extra couple of inches to keep eye contact. "I've ignored that look you get sometimes since I turned eighteen.  But I'm not ignoring it anymore."
"Look? What look? What the fuck are you talking about?" I snapped back, agitated by his behavior. "And this thing is getting heavy, Billy. I'm going to drop it if you don't..."
"That look you get whenever I walk in the room without a shirt on," he cut in, ignoring my threat to drop the auto part. "That look you get..." he continued, lowering his voice, his tone, while moving even closer to me.”...when I take off my shirt in front of you."

'No! Oh my God, no!' I thought to myself. Yet I knew full well that my own expression was giving me away, and I couldn't do anything about it. He smiled slyly. He knew.
"Yeah, now you know what look I'm talking about, don't you?"
"Oh my God, Billy, it's not like that. I never thought anything like that concerning you! I love your dad. I swear. I've watched you grow up for crying out loud! You’ve got to believe me.” I was rambling. In attempting to defend myself, I couldn’t stop talking but the sly smile on his face never wavered. Something inside me caved.

"So, I appreciate how you filled out! There! I admit it!" I said with conviction. "That doesn't make me some deviant or something lusting after my husband's son!"
He leaned in closer, dipping his head down close to my face.
"Billy!" I squealed in panic. "What the hell do you think you are doing? I'm going to drop this. Why don’t you just back up and knock this shit off, now!"
He stopped getting closer, but he didn't move back either. Then he smiled. Oh my god, that smile. Billy had the perfect smile that turned all the girls' heads. The perfect white teeth, the perfect lips, and that dimple... good God, that dimple. Add in his vivacious green eyes under unruly sandy brown hair and you could see what made teachers do things that they ended up in jail for.
"You're not going to drop it, Tracy," he said in a soft, quiet voice. "You'll stand there and hold that part till your fingers break. That’s what I’m telling you to do and that's just how you are going to take it. In the meantime, I want to clear this up for you." He leaned closer to talk even softer into my ear. "I don't think you're a deviant and I know you love my dad. That's how I noticed your sly little expression in the first place."
My head was swimming. I got caught doing something that I didn't even realize I was doing!

Billy was too close. His scent, his voice, his... energy was too much. I shook my head in denial. He needed to back away. "Billy, please. Let's just fix the tractor and then we can talk if you still want to."
"I have a better idea. 'I' talk, we get this out of our system and then we finish the tractor."
"Get what out of our system? There's nothing to... William!"
He chuckled at my use of his full name, something I didn't use very often. But when his hand had reached around to cup my ass cheek it came out as natural as though I used it every day.
"Do you remember when I hurt my back in wrestling practice?" he whispered in my ear, his hand never leaving its position on my ass. I waggled my head. "Do you remember those massages you gave me to help it heal?"
"I never touched you in a way I shouldn’t have, Billy! Those massages were purely therapeutic and you know it!"
"That’s where you're wrong, Tracy. I remember there being times when I didn’t think they were so 'therapeutic'." He moved around me to stand at my back and wrapped his arms around me from behind. His hands slipped down my arms from my shoulders to my wrists, which were still holding the part in the engine of the tractor.
"I had a feeling you didn't realize what you did to me. I never said anything because I didn’t want to embarrass you. And your massages were, for the most part, simply therapeutic. Let go, Tracy." 
I let the hunk of metal and plastic slip from fingers. That’s when I noticed it didn't move when I let go. "You had that fixed the whole time," I stated in disbelief.
"You really need to listen to me right now because we're never going to have this conversation again. I remember how great your massages felt. Simply divine. I could lay there for hours with your hands on my back. It felt so good and they eased the pain away. I could feel every muscle from my shoulders to the small of my back relax under your strong and soothing touch.” He shook his head. “How many times did I fall asleep during those massages?"
"Almost always," I answered. "Billy, stop this. Let's go in the house and talk." 
"Not yet, I'm not done." He took my hands from inside the tractor, cupping them in his own. He folded my arms across my chest, enveloping me within his embrace. I could feel him press against my back, holing me in place, pinning me gently between himself and the tractor fender.
"I want you to know about those times that I didn't fall asleep. You see, everything was great as far as I was concerned. Your hands felt nice on my back. The smell of the lotion you used was almost intoxicating, I felt like I was in heaven. I’m sincere about that, in the purest sense of the term. Until that one day when my dad walked into the room. You never stopped moving your hands but I could tell exactly when you looked up at him."
Billy moved his hand from my crossed arm to slither down over my stomach and down to my crotch, pulling me back into him as he pressed forward. "The heat that came from your hands in that instant sent shock waves through me. You touched me different, whether you realized it or not."
"No, I didn't realize I did anything like that to you."
"I got so hard I was certain you could see even though I was on my stomach. You scared me that day." He touched his lips to the side of my neck as he continued. "I wanted to get up and run to my room and lock the door. But it was a good fear. I didn’t want you stop. It felt so good, good in a different way, and I wanted it to last forever."
"Oh God," I squawked, closing my eyes. I let my head fall back to his shoulder, weak under the realization of what he was saying. His hand slipped down into my panties. I couldn’t tell when he had undone the zipper on my dress slacks. A ragged breath escaped my throat when his finger flicked over my clit. Through it all, he held me tight against him with the other arm.  
His voice became a mere whisper. "I want you to think how often I called for him to 'come here'. No reason, I would just tell him something lame but I needed what he did to you when he came in."
"Billy, stop," I breathed. "This isn't right. Stop it, now." My budding desire had yet to overcome my reason.