Daddy's Stepstalker (Daddy's Little Deviants)

Prologue

Ari

Dressedupinmy mother’s lingerie, clattering around the house in her heels, was definitely not the way I wanted my parents to see me after their night out. Mom’s giggles faded, and my stepdad stared at me with a combination of bewilderment and shock on his face.

My heart pounded in my chest as I glanced from him to Mom, whose features radiated disgust and dislike. She would have looked at me that way anyway, even if I hadn’t been wearing the silk lingerie my stepdad bought her specially for tonight.

Mom took one look at the open bottle of wine and the half-eaten box of expensive chocolate Daddy gave her this Valentine’s Day, and she advanced at me.

“You bitch!” she screeched, her hand raised. Before she could slap me, Daddy pulled me back, out of her reach. Once he had me out of harm’s way, he stood between us, stopping Mom from touching me. The little shit that I was, I held on to the back of his jacket like I was scared of the crazy woman he was trying to protect me from.

“Anne, calm down,” he said. He removed my hand and turned to me. “Help me out here, buddy.” His low and husky voice went straight to my dick.

“What do you need help with, Shaw?” Mom yelled. “He’s a fucking deviant. I told you. Something’s not right with him, but you won’t listen to me. You still keep him around.”

“Anne, get a hold of yourself.”

Daddy’s voice was calm, and I was grateful for it. She acted like I’d wanted them to catch me dressed this way. I didn’t want Daddy to have a reason to believe her venomous words about me. Her solution to fixing any problem was threatening to send me off to live with my biological father, whom I didn’t know from Adam.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whispered.

“Don’t fucking call him that.” Mom took a step forward, but Daddy shifted, blocking her. She peered at me around him, practically foaming at the mouth. “He’s not your Daddy. He’s not your anything, so stop with the sick, twisted nonsense.”

“Anne, get me a glass of water, please,” Daddy asked.

“No." She crossed her arms over her chest. “The minute I get out of this room, it starts all over again. He manipulates you into believing every lie that comes out of his mouth. He can’t be trusted, Shaw.”

“Anne, that’s enough.” Daddy’s voice boomed in the living room, and a delicious shiver ran down my spine. It made me want to be bad, to admit that Mom wasn’t wrong and I was just as wicked as she claimed. Just to have him yell at me like that. I could come so hard by him yelling. But…I couldn’t.

Even though Daddy thought I was a perfect angel, I wasn’t. The evidence was staring him in the face: me clad in the red lingerie he’d bought for Mom to wear when they got home from their dinner. I stood before him, decked out in her finery with her strappy heels on and makeup, and he still denied it.

I could almost see the thought turning in his mind. Sweet little Ari could never do any wrong. I hadn’t decided yet if I ever wanted him to find out how wrong he was.

Maybe that was why I was so into him. Because he saw the best in me, even when everyone else thought differently.

Daddy steered me to a chair and gestured for me to sit. He stopped before me, which brought his crotch on eye level. He was provoking me and he didn’t even notice. For him, it mattered what was going on in my head. He believed there was a reasonable explanation for me wearing Mom’s sexy lingerie.

“Ari,” he said calmly. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on with you? What’s all this about? There’s gotta be an explanation, right?”

Behind him, Mom scoffed, but Daddy didn’t pay her any mind. I liked that more than I should. His whole attention was on me and not her. She’d ignored me so much for all my life that I liked taking his attention away from her.

“I’m sorry.” I let my bottom lip tremble. “I-I just wanted to feel pr-pretty like Mom. I ha-hate my own clothes. Hate that it’s always so masculine. Why can’t I have a bit of girly stuff too? I’m sorry.”

Right on cue, tears spilled down my cheeks. They were mostly fake, but I was upset I wasn’t allowed to wear what I wanted. Mom always made snide remarks about me looking too much like a girl. About me being too pretty for a boy and if I wore girlish clothes, people would mistake me for a girl. How did that even matter?

“It’s okay. Don’t cry,” Daddy said. “You can buy your own.”

“No, he can’t!” Mom screeched. “He’s a boy, Shaw. He needs to act like one.”

Daddy’s hand on my knee tightened. “Anne, I can’t believe you right now. He’s your biological son. You’ll love him regardless.”

“It’s hard to love someone who’d do something like this. He’s sick, and you need to wake up and see it already.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” I met her gaze head on, but inside, I just wanted to giggle at the way she flipped out.

“Oh, save it. You’re so full of shit.”

“Anne!” Daddy jerked to his feet. “We need to talk in private.”