Jeremy holds her breasts

"Stop it!" I lunged forward, but Mom’s voice stopped me cold. "Lachlan." Just my name. No anger, no shame—just disappointment. As if *I* was the one embarrassing *her*. Jeremy smirked, squeezing Mom’s tits harder, making her bite her lip. Mom turned to Jeremy, "First he wanted them covered, and now he wants them free. Lachlan's so demanding!"

Her words hit me like a brick. Jeremy laughed, "I bet you wish he were more like me." His fingers tightened around Mom's breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples with deliberate slowness. Mom exhaled shakily, her lashes lowering as her hips rocked forward—just an inch, but enough. Enough to see the damp patch forming on the front of Jeremy’s jeans.

"I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this, Lachlan," Mom murmured, her voice breathy. Her fingers curled into Jeremy’s shirt, not pushing him away, but pulling him closer. "It's just—" She gasped when Jeremy pinched her nipples, hard enough to make her spine arch. "—just fun."

My hands balled into fists. *Fun?* She was letting him grope her in front of me like some cheap whore, and she called it *fun*? Jeremy’s grin widened, his fingers kneading her flesh possessively. "See, Mrs. R gets it," he purred, leaning down to nip at her earlobe. "Unlike your uptight little bitch of a son."