MY STEP

“What about your desires?” Kayla asked him. “Don’t they matter?”

“Everyone has to look out for their own wants and needs,” Carter said, though from his tone, it was clear he didn’t entirely believe it. “You can’t rely on somebody else to fill that void for you. And your mother knows that. That’s part of the reason why she works. She finds it fulfilling.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be anything like her,” Kayla said, folding her arms.

Carter smiled. “Oh, you could stand to learn a thing or two from your mother,” he told her. “If you were more like her, you’d get anything you wanted.”

Kayla squinted at him, trying to discern his meaning. She got the feeling there was something more to what he’d said about being more like her mom, and the look on his face all but confirmed it. He averted his eyes, cleared his throat, and rested his hand on her knee, obviously embarrassed.

“Well,” she said slowly, looking her stepfather up and down. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I could stand to learn a thing or two from her… if it gets me what I want.”

He shifted again, wetting his lips and shooting a sideways glance at her. “And what do you want, Kayla? Obviously, you don’t want to run the business.”

She sat up on her elbows, thinking. “I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve always been into art—illustration, in particular, but… you always told me that wasn’t a viable career option.”

“Well, not if you aren’t independently wealthy,” Carter said, though his voice now held a certain tone, almost as if he’d intended on saying more, but hadn’t.

Kayla caught on. Or at least, she thought she did. Carter was always encouraging her to take risks when it came to business dealings, and she was pretty sure that was exactly what this exchange with her stepfather was turning out to be.

“But, we are wealthy…” Kayla began, but Carter just laughed softly.

“Sweetheart, there’s a big difference between being wealthy, and being independently wealthy. I’m a slave to my own wealth, working to maintain the empire I’ve built, and one day you will be part of that machine. It is bigger than us. Tens of thousands of people depend on us to keep the balls in the air. One day I will pass you the reins to my company, and you will understand.”

“What if there was an option. I mean, what if I was independently wealthy,” she said, “like, if there was another heir to take over the family business, then I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. Right?”

“I suppose that’s true,” Carter said with a little shrug. He seemed like he was actively trying to seem noncommittal, like there was a great battle raging inside of him that he desperately didn’t want anyone to know about, especially his young stepdaughter. “If you weren’t running the company, you would have the time and the money to pursue your own dreams, but there is one obvious problem here. You’re an only child, and at this point, I’m pretty sure that’s not going to change...”

There was a very awkward silence between them and Carter sized her up. Kayla had a feeling they were fighting much the same war, albeit for entirely different reasons.

If I could give my stepfather a baby, I could be free, she thought, her heart beginning to pound. Free to do whatever I wanted to do. Free to be exactly who I want to be.

But there was so much more to it than that. It wasn’t like she’d be helping him through an adoption or talking to her mother about the possibility of fertility treatments. She’d be taking her mother’s place, in a way—a way that was purely sexual and utterly deviant.

The worst part was that she was actually considering it, and that in some sick way, it sort of turned her on.

What would it be like to commit the unthinkable, the forbidden, the taboo? What would it be like to seduce her stepfather, to carry his child, and to help raise it right under her practically-absent mother’s nose?

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There’s more where that came from! Read “Cherry Pie (Older Man, Younger Woman, First Time, Pregnancy Romance)”. Click here to buy it now, or read it for free with your Kindle Unlimited subscription!

Here’s a little taste of “Cherry Pie”:

I never meant to have sex with him…

I stood there, cum still dripping from my sopping wet pussy onto the cold tile bathroom floor. Tears filled my eyes as I stared into the mirror, my makeup ruined, my perfect hair tousled and mousy.

“Are you ok?”

The deep and silky soft voice drifted through the door. It was my neighbor… I’d known him my whole life and he’d been nothing but a good man to me. Mick was always helping our family out whenever he could… I’d gone and ruined everything. I couldn’t help it. My 22 year old hormones had taken over. He was so lonely; he’d given me so much…

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of Danielle. Nothing,” he said, strength behind his words that I had always found so beautifully sexy.

But there was something to be ashamed of. My hand dipped down to my pussy, a finger drawing a small amount of his seed from my delicate lips, carrying it upward and running it across my tongue. Tasting the mix of our sex sent a shiver down my spine. I turned, taking the broken condom from the counter and dropping it into the toilet, flushing away the evidence of the accident…

Was I going to tell him?

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

I was just supposed to be earning a little extra money. With high school finished and college looming in the fall, I’d taken on every odd job I could to try and pay for it. Nineteen years of my life had gone by with my father pulling his wallet out for everything, but he told me himself that all of that would soon be over. He paid for his education, and he made it clear I was going to pay for mine. “It builds character,” he said so matter-of-factly as I cried about the enormity of it all.

Maybe he was right. It didn’t take long for me to pile up a little savings. As long as I stayed home and didn’t spend too much, I’d have a few thousand dollars to help get me through my first year of college classes…

I’d confided in my neighbor about all of this, and he made me a generous offer. Mick was going to be out of town, and as long as I was willing to house-sit for him, he’d pay me a little bit of money for the trouble. It was easy money. All I had to do was feed his dog twice a day and make sure his plants were watered for a couple of weeks. The best part was, I could stay there the whole time he was gone. I’d been under my father’s roof so long I didn’t know what it would feel like to have that kind of freedom. Sure, I was only next door to the house I’d grown up in, but it was still pretty amazing.

The driveway was empty as I walked up to Mick’s place carrying a small bag of groceries. It would still be a few days until he returned and I’d run out of things to cook, but Mick had left me with a little cash to pay for food and incidentals. I stared up at the big house, its tall columns casting shadows on the front façade. I’d grown up in a beautiful little home, but it was nothing compared to this big old southern plantation. In less than two weeks I’d gotten very used to the opulent space and the beautiful old furniture. It would be weird leaving all of this for my old bedroom – or worse yet, a college dorm and ramen noodles.

But it was lonely…

Mick owned properties all over Georgia, and his company managed their rental and resale. He’d become a success, bu

t his time away from home kept him single all these years. When I was still a child, Mick said he was too busy for a wife. Now that he had everything he could ever really need, I wondered if that would ever change.

I opened the big wooden double doors and stepped inside, my footsteps echoing in the space as I made my way to the kitchen and shoved the grocery bags into the refrigerator. I’d get started on cooking later, for now, I had more important things to attend to. There was one nice thing about having a big house like this all to myself. That meant I’d have plenty of time and privacy… For my secret…

I found the small discs on the first day I was housesitting. I probably shouldn’t have been snooping around, but I really couldn’t help myself. They were minidiscs from an old video camera, hidden away in a box in Mick’s closet.