My Stepmom's Boyfriend (Forbidden Fun)

But I don’t say any of this because suddenly, there are steps sounding outside the front door and I jump up.

“I think I hear him! I’ll talk to you after the meeting, okay?”

“Perfect. Go get ‘em, girl!”

With that, I make sure my outfit looks presentable again before rushing over to open the door. But instead of my handsome man, it’s someone totally unexpected standing on the doorstep: my stepmother, Fiona.

What the hell is she doing here? We haven’t spoken in months, ever since she kicked me to the curb. Why is she here now? And how in the world did she find me?

My heart races as I gape at my stepmother. She looks better than ever. Her hair is a subtle shade ash blonde, which must have been done at an expensive salon. Her make-up is neutral and mostly matte, without looking garish. Is that the result of a professional beauty consultant as well?

But it’s her clothes that have me stepping back in shock. The dress she has on is a lovely, blush shade of pink, and costs two thousand dollars. I know because I tried it on at Chantecaille, the boutique Travis took me to. In fact, it was still on the rack last week when we went. So why is Fiona wearing it now, and where did she get the money to buy it?

But despite all this, Fiona isn’t surprised to see me. Her mauve lips turn up in a sinister smile.

“Hello, Caitlin. Aren’t you going to hug your mommy?”

She steps towards me and I scurry back into the safety of the house. I’m not sure what she’s doing here, but it feels like a trap. I won’t fall for it.

My ex-stepmother barks out a vicious laugh as she steps into the foyer, her high heels clacking on the marble.

“I see you’re just as ridiculous as ever. Why did I think you might change in the months you were away? Parents always expect too much from their children.”

“I’m not your child,” I say in a trembling voice.

Fiona waves her hand carelessly in the air, her manicure a subtle French pink.

“Whatever. You’ll always be a child to me.”

I straighten my spine and force myself to look into those chilling blue eyes.

“What are you doing here, Fiona?”

My stepmother grins maliciously. “You don’t know?”

My heart is racing. “Know what?”

“Well, this is where my boyfriend lives. You know, Travis Simpson? I could swear you know him, seeing that you’re here,” she says pointedly.

My jaw drops open and I stare at her in shock.

“Your what?” I ask.

“Oh yes,” Fiona says casually while examining her nails. “My boyfriend, Travis. Surely, you’ve heard of him. You’ve been keeping him sexually satisfied while I was unavailable, right?”

It takes everything in me to keep from staggering. This can’t be true.

“You’re lying. How do you even know Travis?”

She tilts her head back and lets out a brittle laugh.

“We met months ago at an event his company put on. It was love at first sight, if I do say so myself.”

I have to inhale sharply to keep from passing out. I do remember Fiona getting herself invited to a swanky party about a month before she kicked me out. She came back that evening mooning over some hot billionaire she talked to at the party. But that couldn’t have been Travis. No way.

“We’re celebrating nearly six months together now,” Fiona quips. “Why, is this a surprise to you? You don’t really think it was a coincidence that he found you after you ran away from home?”

“Ran away? You kicked me out!”

Fiona waves me off. “Details, details. It doesn’t matter. I knew you’d make your way to the rich part of town eventually, so I asked Travis to watch out for you, and he did exactly as he was told. Of course, our deal was a little unconventional. You see, I needed to work on my business, Press Clothing, but with you in my hair all the time, I couldn’t. I asked Travis to take you in for a while so that I could focus, and he agreed.”

I stare at her.

“No.”

“Oh yes!” she titters merrily. “And I know you’ve been sleeping with him because why wouldn’t you? You’re a little slut, so it’s only to be expected! But darling, it doesn’t matter to me at all. Sure, it’s a little perverted because we’re mother and daughter, but some guys like to get that itch scratched. I told Travis just this once, and then never again.”

I sink against the wall, going limp. Fiona’s allegations are utterly horrific, but her story makes sense too. I always thought Fate brought Travis and me together, but let’s be real: how often does a handsome Prince Charming show up, and sweep you into his arms to live in a castle?

“Oh yes,” hums Fiona merrily, “This arrangement has worked out perfectly. Travis got to have his fun with a little slut, but now, I’m back in business. Press Clothing is taking off, and your time here is done, honey. Didn’t he tell you? It was always an arrangement.”