Their Little Girl

Their Little Girl

L.J. Anderson

Published by Mayhem Erotica

Copyright © 2012 by L.J. Anderson

Edited by Lynda Martin

Cover Art by L.J. Anderson

Amazon Kindle Edition

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Warning : This story contains scenes of an explicit, erotic nature and is intended for adults, 18+ Story includes menage parings M/F/M involving consensual sex between step relations. Characters portrayed are 18 or older.

The last six months of my life had been difficult to say the least.

Since it was my senior year of high school, I’d been working my ass off trying to pass all my tests just so I could keep my grade point average up in hopes of landing a scholarship.

Unlike most teenage girls, I didn’t date or hang out with girlfriends. I hadn’t even been to a high school party or dance, and prom was the furthest thing from my mind.

Much to my displeasure, I wasn’t one of those brainy kids either, the ones that always seemed to know all the answers. Grades didn’t come easy. I had to work hard for them studying non-stop if I even wanted to be considered for those coveted college scholarships. I wasn’t under any delusions about my chances, either. If I didn’t get one, I’d end up having to spend the next several months working at the local fast food chain or the mall just to save up enough money for a semester’s worth of classes.

Our family wasn’t destitute or anything, but I knew Mark, my stepdad, just hadn’t planned on paying the tuition of a second child after sending my stepbrother David off to university just three years earlier.

The flake that she was, my mother hadn’t planned for my education at all.

To be honest, I would have been highly surprised if she gave a damn whether I graduated high school much less attended college.

For a while, I’d been thinking that it felt like she no longer cared about me or our family, and she ended up proving my theory true when she abandoned us to run off with some rich old man a mere three months into my senior year.

I didn’t think I’d ever understand how a mother could just run away from her family like that, but then maybe I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was when my own mother left. She gave no excuse, no reassurance that she loved me or wanted me to leave with her.

I’d always known my mother was a selfish person, but the depths of her greed seemed to know no bounds. My desperate attempt to elicit an explanation, to find out what we’d done wrong to make her want to leave was met with irritation and anger. She wanted me out of her way, and out of her life as quickly as possible, but I needed more than that.

When I asked what I was supposed to do without her, she walked out the door telling me Mark would look after me – at least until I turned eighteen.

Then what?

Did she really expect me to fend for myself? How did she know he would continue to look after me? She didn’t, really. She assumed Mark would because he’d watched over his adopted stepson, David, after his first wife died, but those circumstances were completely different.

When Mark came home that night and wondered why I was sitting on the porch bawling my eyes out, I had to tell him what happened.

It actually took several minutes before I could even get the words out, but when I did, he was so hurt and angry with Mom I feared he might kick me out just to rid himself of the constant reminder of what he’d lost.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to resent my presence, but how long would that last? How long until he got tired of me and forced my mother to take me back? And if he did, what if she refused to take me again? Would I be forced to live in foster care till I was legally declared an adult?

The thought of living with strangers terrified me beyond words.

Once the divorce papers were signed, there would be nothing to stop him from sending me away, and when that day came, I would have to find a way to take care of myself.

Too scared to broach the subject, I kept quiet, avoiding him whenever possible, thanking my lucky stars he never brought it up. I assumed since he was already supporting David, he really had no reason to keep me around. Because I was older when they got married, Mark never adopted me, so legally, unlike my mother, he didn’t have any obligation or responsibility for my well-being.

My mind raced for days trying to figure out a way to convince him that I wouldn’t be a burden, that I could be useful around the house, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of him.

Not knowing what else to do, I finally broke down one day and began begging him, telling him I’d do anything if he’d just let me stay...

“Honestly, Erica? Do you really think so little of me?” my stepfather asked as I sobbed hysterically, sounding completely affronted by my desperate pleas for him not to send me to my mother.

“I wasn’t... I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just – I couldn’t imagine you wanting me to stay after the way my mother treated you,” I cried, hoping he wouldn’t be upset.

His eyes raked over me a moment before he held out his arms, ready to wrap me in his strong embrace. Without hesitation, I melted into his touch, basking in the warmth of human contact, feeling loved and cherished – something that I’d been missing for so long.

“Of course you can stay, sweetie. You didn’t even have to ask,” he whispered, his velvet voice making my skin prickle with awareness as he pulled me closer.

I could hardly remember the last time someone had touched me much less hugged me.

“I needed that,” I replied, my rough voice teetering somewhere between a laugh and sob.

Once I’d managed to step a few feet back, my gaze traveled up to his face, searching for some indication that he realized the gravity of what he’d just given me, the weight that had been lifted from my tiny frame. When my eyes met his, I was taken aback at what I saw – a strange glint in his stormy grey eyes, a darkness I’d never noticed before.

Leaning in, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his gaze beckoning me inexplicably closer.

What is this?

“I think I needed it too,” he said finally, his expression reverting to normal, breaking the peculiar connection. The speed in which things shifted only managed to make me wonder if my mind had just been playing tricks on me.

Emotions were high, so he was probably just upset,
I reasoned.

Not wanting him to sense my sudden unease, my lips formed a false smile as I tried to find a way to snap out of the trance I seemed to be under. “Th-thank you,” I stuttered slightly, unsure of what had happened.

“No need to thank me, Erica. That’s what Daddies are for.” His tone was teasing, but I felt his finger pressing firmly against my chin, urging me to look up at him, giving me no choice but to meet his dark grey eyes.

In the past, Mark had been more of a friend than a father figure. Growing up without my birth father hadn’t exactly made me an expert on what it meant to have a dad or what one was supposed to act like. But
this
... the way he was looking at me, the way it felt when he hugged me... it didn’t feel fatherly, and yet the thought of calling him
Daddy
excited me in ways I didn’t understand.

And I liked it. A lot.

“You’re the best Daddy a girl could ask for,” I told him shyly, testing the new name on my tongue. I didn’t even pretend to deny how right it felt, especially when his eyes darkened again in response. The shift between us somehow became palpable, like I could reach out and touch the delicious, crackling tension and hold it my hand.

...

As time passed, I made sure to do all the housework and cooking. I even made sure to have all of
Daddy’s
work shirts pressed to perfection. Just knowing I could keep him happy was really important to me, because I never wanted to be a burden to anyone, least of all to a man who had been so generous and caring to me.

Sometimes I’d catch him watching me, though – whenever I walked in the room, his eyes would change like before, glinting darkly, becoming almost possessive.

It was as if he wanted something from me – but what?

There were days when I thought I was beginning to understand the looks that passed between us, the strange draw I couldn’t explain. My body’s reactions to those looks seemed to change – fluttering and excitement morphed into a deep ache, an ember of desire burning in my tummy making my nipples tighten and pucker in response to his unwavering gaze, as he watched me without inhibition, staring at me, his eyes circling me like a hungry predator.

I’d never felt so exposed in my life. It was like he somehow knew what was happening to me, like he’d intentionally planned to arouse me until my panties became wet and sticky.

He was playing with me, intentionally eliciting feelings I barely understood, just because he knew he could, and there wasn’t a thing I could do stop him.

And, if I was truly being honest, I wasn’t sure I would have if I could. He’d awakened something inside me, though, making me feel more alive than ever before.

Judging from the intensity of my body’s response, I never would have imagined another man could ever make me feel the way Daddy did. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone else to fill me with so much desire, at least not until I found one of David’s dirty movies a few months ago.

...

At the time, school was closed because it had been snowing all week. I was about to die of boredom, so I went into my stepbrother’s room to borrow his DVD player.

Since I knew David wasn’t due to be home from school for a few weeks, I didn’t see the harm in using it, but when I opened the tray to put in my own disk, there was already one inside. It wasn’t labeled or anything, so I had no idea what I’d find.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been getting into his business, but curiosity got the better of me. It didn’t help that I’d had a bit of a schoolgirl crush on my stepbrother for a long time. It was mostly innocent in the past, and for the most part, my feelings were purely superficial.

David was gorgeous, of course – tall and lean, his muscles tight and defined – like a swimmer, but not just any swimmer... an
extremely sexy
and
well-built
swimmer. His hair was short and dark, and his eyes were as blue as the ocean and just as deep.

My stepbrother kept to himself mostly, reading, strumming his guitar, and studying, but he also had a thing for fast cars and breaking curfew, which drove Mark crazy sometimes.

He drove
me
crazy too.

I wasn’t sure if his appeal had anything to do with those deep baby blues, or if it was his bad boy, devil-may-care attitude, there was just something about David that drew me in like a magnet.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one with a thing for my stepbrother.

During his senior year, I actually became very popular with several sophomore and junior girls who thought it would be a good idea to pretend to be my friends in an effort to get in his pants. They didn’t hang around long because David was smart enough to see through their games when I didn’t.

Maybe it was silly and naive, but I would have given anything to be with him. There were just too many obstacles standing in the way, and they all seemed so insurmountable.

If there was ever a chance of getting past the whole
stepbrother thing
, then I’d have to deal with the fact that, not only was he a few years older, but he was also way more experienced than I’d ever hope to be.