Page 2 of His Precious Secret

“Christ…” I mutter under my breath as I take her in.

Perfection.

Every single fucking inch of her is perfection. From the mess of dirty blond curls spilling down across her bare shoulders, to the perky, bra-less tits that bounce as she grabs a bag from the car, to the perfect ass I catch only a brief glimpse of as she bends over.

Yoga pants. No panties. A little hint of camel toe.

Fuck.

I gave it all up for Brandi—all the best pussy in the world that I could have had. A girl like this could have been in my bed tonight. I could have had my aching cock buried deep inside her with my lips around her perky little nipples as she screamed my name into my ear.

But fuck it. I’m single now, right?

“You know, delivery drivers usually don’t park their cars.” I grin. “They leave them running while they bring the food in.”

The girl blinks a couple times as though she doesn’t understand what I’m saying. As she shifts her weight, her unbelievable rack jiggles, causing my cock to pulse between my legs.

“I—I’m sorry? Deliveries?”

“Uber Eats, right? Or Door Dash? Which one are you?”

“I’m neither…” she says slowly. There’s a tone in her voice as though I just said something so stupid she can’t even process it. “I’m Taylor. I’m your stepdaughter.”

Oh. Fuck.

2

Taylor

The tension in the air has me ready to fall over. Where the hell is my mom and please tell me this isn’t who I think it is!

The man standing before me is drop-dead gorgeous, like a rugged prince who stepped out of a men’s magazine. His hair, almost black, once swept back, hangs loosely, framing his intense blue eyes that seem to hold me with an unknown power.

His skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that reveals the cuts and striations in his chiseled muscles. Arms of a gladiator. As he breathes, his thick chest rises and falls, calling attention to his broad shoulders. His pants are filthy but expensive, and the designer tank-top he’s wearing clings to his muscled chest like a second layer of skin.

I’d bet he’s six-foot-something and in his thirties.

He’s here at my mom’s house, so unless I’ve completely lost my mind, the man standing before me is my stepfather.

“I’m Taylor,” I say. “I’m your stepdaughter.”

Yeah. This is bad.

Don’t blame me, okay? But a flash of a total porn scenario blips through my head as I stare at him. It’s not even a conscious thing; it’s not like I try to imagine him on top of me, pinning me down on the bed, doing what he wants with me.

I just…do.

Can you control your cravings when you see a perfectly delicious ice-cream sundae? No? Then you know how I feel looking at Rick.

Rick. My mom’s husband.

Oh, God. I don’t know whether I’m completely turned on or about to be sick.

“Oh,” Rick says simply. “I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow.”

“I got upgraded to an earlier flight. Thought I’d come and surprise Mom. She is here, isn’t she?”

Rick nods. “She is. But not for long. I’m kicking her out tomorrow.”

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