Rika had recently moved in with her stepbrother's family, insisting it was just temporary while she "figured things out." But deep down, Rika relished the thrill of stirring up trouble in the most tantalizing ways. She played the role of the seductive step-aunt with effortless grace, her presence lingering like an intoxicating perfume. Conversations stretched longer than necessary, her body language deliberate—a brush of fingers here, a sultry glance there—each interaction laced with just enough mischief to leave an imprint. And when she caught someone staring? That knowing smile of hers was both an invitation and a challenge.

It was especially fun teasing her step-nephew. He was young but carried himself with confidence, his sharp eyes and strong presence making it clear he wasn't easily shaken every time she walked into the room wearing nothing but a loose-fitting robe. She'd lean against the kitchen counter in the mornings, sipping her coffee, knowing full well that the way she crossed her legs was enough to send his eyes darting anywhere but at her.

"You're so tense all the time," she cooed one evening, settling next to him on the couch, a little too close. "You should learn to relax."

Her hand rested lightly on his thigh, fingers just barely grazing the fabric of his shorts. He met her gaze with a smirk, unbothered, his confidence making her own teasing feel like a challenge. "Poor thing," she murmured, tilting her head to the side. "I wonder if you truly know how to handle a woman, or if you're just playing along?"

She wasn't just teasing for the fun of it—well, mostly. There was something intoxicating about the way he held his ground, his unwavering gaze filled with something unreadable yet undeniably compelling. How much more would it take? How many more lingering touches, whispered words, and playful glances before he finally cracked? She knew she shouldn't push too far. But where was the fun in stopping before the game had truly begun?