Taboo The Collection (11 page)

“Mmmm yeah!” he growled, rolling his hips, grinding into her pussy. “Come on my cock! Come all over my cock, baby girl!”

And they came together, the both of them, sweaty and shuddering and crying out as one, the thick, pulsing eruptions from his cock spilling heat deep into her, warming her like nothing else could. She wrapped herself completely around him, gasping against his neck as her pussy spasmed around his length, each wet, electric throb asking for more, more, more.

When it was over, he cradled her in his arms, kissing her cheek and nose and mouth, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was. She flushed and squirmed under his praise, wanting so much to believe him, so afraid it would all disappear if she opened her eyes.

“I have to tell you something,” she whispered, feeling his lips brush her temple.

He stilled, waiting. When she didn’t speak, he asked, “Is it about your mother?”

Tina nodded, looking at him for the first time since they’d come together—her stepfather, the man she’d loved forever.

“If it’s about Vegas, I already know.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You weren’t the only one packing a bag tonight.”

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled. “Want to run away together?”

“Did you really think I was going to leave without you, beautiful girl?”

“I’m not—” She began to protest but he kissed her quiet, convincing her with his touch, his breath, his body, that she was—his beautiful girl.

Anna (Daddy’s Favorites)

For Anna, there was nothing like a comfortable, well-read, dog-eared book in her hands. She curled up at the end of the sofa, the TV on but forgotten, her feet tucked under an afghan, and lost herself in another world. She could do this for hours, and often did, only moving when her body reminded her of its needs. And even then, she would take her book to the bathroom, or if her stomach growled, she’d pour some cereal and continue reading, spoon in one hand, book in the other. Nothing could break the spell of a well-loved story playing out in her imagination.

“Anna!”

Well, almost nothing.

“What?” Anna yelled back at the ceiling, rolling her eyes and reaching for the remote so she could mute the television.

“Did you borrow my pearl earrings?” Her mother’s voice floated down the stairs.

Anna turned her attention back to her book, not answering. She hadn’t borrowed them, hadn’t even seen them since the last time her mother wore them, some time in the fall. But of course, her mother wouldn’t believe her, no matter what she said, so it was better not to say anything at all.

“Never mind!” her mother called down. “I found them!”

Anna sighed, hearing footsteps on the stairs. Her mother and stepfather were going to a Christmas party at her stepfather’s office. She couldn’t wait for them to leave. She had half her book left to read, microwave popcorn waiting on the counter, and the number to Little Caesars memorized. She was set.

“Hey girlie.” Her stepfather’s voice interrupted her and she looked at him, pushing her glasses up her nose so she could see him better. Her BFF, Lizbeth, was always going on and on about how
freaking hawt
her stepfather was—and she wasn’t wrong. Andrew Ross was a fine specimen of a man, tall and lean, dark hair and bright blue eyes. He always wore a suit to work, although on the weekends he put on jeans and cooked pancakes in his bare feet and the sight of him standing at the stove sometimes made her stomach do slow, sensuous flips.

“Hey.” She returned his greeting, watching him pour a drink at the bar separating the living room and the kitchen. “Starting early?”

“Gotta keep myself occupied while your mother finishes up.” He grimaced as he swallowed the amber-colored liquid.

Anna snorted, turning to her book again. “You could be drunk by then.”

“Whatcha reading, girlie?” Drew inquired, coming over to the couch and sitting beside her, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Even though he’d technically been her stepfather for five years, she only called him “Dad” when her mother was around, and he was fine with that. He said he didn’t mind her calling him by his first name, and so when they were alone, she often did.

“Pride and Prejudice.” It was one of her all-time favorites. She shifted on the sofa, feeling his hand move under the blanket, squeezing her foot. It was a sweet, familiar gesture. There was nothing sexual about it really, but she felt her heart rate increase.

“Didn’t you read that one already?” Drew tugged her bare foot out from under the covers, resting it in his lap, massaging gently.

“Several times.” She was turned toward him now and she poked her other foot out from under the blanket so he could give it equal attention.

“Bookworm,” he teased, switching to her other foot. Lifting it, he inspected her pink-painted toenails. “Cute. Like little bits of candy.”

“Thanks.” Anna settled back against the arm of the sofa, sighing softly as he massaged the sole of her foot. The other was resting in his lap. “It’s called Aphrodite’s Pink Nightie.”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I guess it has to be someone’s job to make up nail polish flavors.”

“It’s colors not flavors.” She shifted on the sofa, her book forgotten, watching him inspect her toes.

“I know,” he agreed. He was enthralled, and she shivered at the way his hand moved up to her calf a little. “But they look good enough to eat.”

“Omnomnom.” She wiggled the foot still sitting in his lap, trying to make it seem casual, stretching and fake-yawning and she did so, and discovered something delightful—Drew had an erection. A very large erection.

He gasped, dropping her other foot. “Anna!”

“What?” She smirked. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

“I think I hear your mother.” Drew stood, going again to the bar to pour himself another drink. Anna curled back up with her book, but she left her toes uncovered.

“Ugh. Reading again?” Her mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hair pulled up, pearls at her throat. “It had better be a school book.”

“At least she’s reading.” Drew poured himself another shot.

Anna’s mother scoffed. “Did you see her grades? I don’t know how she’s going to graduate. And I’m not paying for summer school!”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Obviously you don’t think so.”

Anna rolled her eyes, waiting for what was coming next, and she knew, of course, it was coming. Her mother wouldn’t let an opportunity slip by. She turned to Anna, wagging a finger at her like she was still eight years old.

“What would it take for you to take it seriously? Should I call your father? Oh, wait, I can’t—he’s in Brazil with the whore!”

Anna stiffened, her eyes blazing. “Leave Daddy alone.”

“Why should I?” her mother snapped. “That’s where he left us—alone!”

“Okay, girls, let’s dial it back a bit.” Drew picked up his mother’s coat—it was black mink, her mother didn’t have any qualms about buying real anything—helping her into it. “Besides, I have an idea.”

They both glowered at him. “What?”

“Well, when I was a kid, my parents used to pay me for my grades,” he confessed, shrugging his own coat on.

Anna’s mother snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh please!”

“Hey, don’t dismiss it. It actually works. Think about it—as adults, we have jobs, and the reason we do them is because there’s a paycheck at the end of the week, right?”

“School isn’t a job…” Anna’s mother reminded him with a sniff, pulling on her gloves.

“Sure feels like it,” Anna grumbled.

Drew smiled at her. “It kind of is, when you think about it. So why shouldn’t she be rewarded if she does well?”

“Can she be penalized if she doesn’t do well?”

Anna rolled her eyes. Of course her mother would think of something like that.

“I suppose…” Drew replied.

“Fine. If you don’t make good grades, I take your car,” her mother snapped.

Anna sat straight up, eyes wide. “What?”

Drew held out his hand in a halting gesture. “But if she does do well—say she’ll get $100 for every A, $50 for every B and $25 for every C.”

“But if you fail a class—just one class—” Anna’s mother wagged her finger again.

“I won’t.” Anna was already doing the math. She had six classes, and if she could manage an A in all of them, that meant six-hundred dollars!

“So it’s a deal?” Drew raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“It’s a deal,” she agreed.

“Shake on it.” He took a step toward the couch, holding out his hand, and Anna took it, remembering his hands on her feet, the way he admired her painted toes. And his erection. Her gaze dropped to his trousers and then she looked back up at him, feeling a flush on her cheeks. Her face felt hot too and she wondered if she looked the same.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Anna’s mother called from the doorway. “You be good!”

Drew joined his wife, remarking, “I’m sure she’ll just read all night.”

“Not too late. We have family pictures in the morning!” Those were the last words Anna’s mother said before following her husband out the door.

Ugh. We don’t have a family.

Anna grabbed her book, opening it to the dog-eared page she’d left off at, but she couldn’t concentrate. She was thinking about the new deal she’d just made with her stepfather. School had never been that important to her, she had to admit. But six-hundred dollars! Now that was what she called an incentive, especially since her mother loved to spend money on herself, but was tight with it the rest of the time. It was almost a new year, she reminded herself. She could make a resolution and stick to it. She was sure she could.

* * * *

“You’re up late.” Anna was on her way to the kitchen for a late night snack when she found her stepfather stretched out on the couch, the TV on but muted.

Drew glanced back at her. “Can’t sleep.”

“She’s asleep?” Anna wandered over to the sofa, looking down at him wearing just a pair of jeans, bare feet propped up on the arm of the couch.

He snorted. “Passed out is more like it.”

She saw the way his gaze moved over her. The pink baby doll nightie she was wearing didn’t conceal very much. She’d overheard him arguing with her mother just a few weeks ago about what she “flounced around the house” wearing. He said it bothered him, that she should be more modest. But she knew the truth—he liked it. She caught him watching her all the time.

Her mother had scoffed at his protest, but her mother was blind. She seemed to think that Drew was still her young, handsome personal assistant—which is how they’d met in the first place—not her husband. She ordered him around, picked his clothes, told him who to see, who not to see. Her mother didn’t acknowledge Drew now owned his own business, that he was no longer her subservient, but her equal. It made Anna sick.

“Drew, I’ve been thinking about your proposition.” Anna played with the hem of her nightie, seeing his gaze move there, over the creamy, pale skin of her thighs. He’d been drinking. She could smell it. But of course, he’d started before they even left for the party.

“What proposition?” He cleared his throat, sitting up on the sofa.

“You know, cash for grades?”

“Oh, that.” He looked relieved and rubbed his eyes, yawning. “Yeah, what about it?”

“What if I don’t want cash? What if I want something else instead?”

He frowned. “Like what?”

“I’ve seen you looking at me.”

His eyes widened. “Anna…”

“You want to see more don’t you… Daddy?”

She never called him Daddy unless her mother was around. The word in her mouth made what she was about to do seem even more taboo. Anna grabbed the edge of her nightie and pulled it slowly over her head. Drew sat, transfixed, as she cupped her breasts, pushing them up and together in her bra. The hungry look in his eyes made her even bolder and she edged closer to him on the couch, her skirt riding up her thighs, until she was practically sitting in his lap.

“Do you like what you see so far?” Anna thumbed her nipples, shivering. They were hard, tenting the pink fabric of her bra. He didn’t answer her, but he didn’t have to. She
saw Drew looking at her hands moving over her breasts, slowly pulling down her bra, letting it play peek-a-boo with her nipples. “Do you want to touch me?”

Anna turned on the sofa, sliding her leg over both of his, straddling him. Drew groaned softly, not touching her, but not stopping her either. He looked up past the swell of her breasts, her nipples appearing just above the lace edge of her bra, meeting her eyes, and his expression was beyond words. There was something wild and desperate in that look she wanted to reach.

She leaned in close so her lips brushed his ear. “I think about you when I touch myself.”

His breath caught and his hands went to her hips. She thought he would push her off, reprimand her, but instead he pulled her gently against his pelvis so she could feel the length of his cock through his jeans. He was very hard and Anna’s pussy lips parted around the outline of his shaft, even through her panties, as if she could suck him into her.

“Do you think about me, Daddy?” She wiggled in his lap, shifting back and forth, side to side, rubbing the aching bud of her clit against the seam of his jeans. “When you’re with my mother, are you wishing it was my little pussy you were fucking?”

She knew it was true; it had to be. But she wanted—needed—to hear him say it. Drew’s hands moved over her hips, around to her ass, cupping her behind through her sheer, matching pink panties and pulling her in tight. He groaned, finding himself face to face with the swell of her breasts, spilling completely over her pink bra cups now.