Q.B. Tyler

“Fuck off, Jaxon,” Kate snarls. “You wish Carter paid you the time of day. Anyone with eyes can see he’s practically tripping over his dick to be with Stassi.”

Soft. Smooth. Rich.

I imagined it was what my father would sound like, if I had one.

The third, and perhaps the most pertinent time, he spoke to me. He told me he liked my pink overalls that I begged my mother not to make me wear. He gave me a grin, baring all his teeth and I almost melted. My heart slammed against my little ribcage and I couldn’t help but feel like I was floating.

The beautiful man noticed me.

Maybe he’d love me one day.

Maybe he’d kiss me like they do at the end of the movies.

But I was wrong.

So, fucking wrong.

Because although I saw him first and told myself at the young age of ten that I was madly in love with this beautiful man, said beautiful man fell in love with someone else.

My mother.

I was ten years old when I fell in love.

Two years later, I fell in hate.

Things are different now, a voice speaks from somewhere within.

I lower my head, shameful for feeling the way I do when soft fingers find my cheek. His knuckles trail down my face and the same hand moves my hair behind my ear. Tingles are left in its wake and instinctively I bite my bottom lip. When I look up his eyes are soft and I see the smile in them as they trace my features. “I’m here for you, however you need me, Stassi.” His voice is barely above a

and a part of me, a very depraved part wonders if he’s speaking quietly on purpose. As if he’s worried someone will hear him and take his words out of context. How else would I need him except for in a father figure type way? Is he offering something else?
Stop it, Stassi. We’ve talked about this

I swallow hard, pushing the wicked thoughts back into that box labeled Daddy issues

I swallow hard, pushing the wicked thoughts back into that box labeled Daddy issues. It isn’t often that the carnal thoughts about my stepfather float through my mind, but every once in a while they spring up, setting my insides on fire and the space between my legs slick with desire. I’ve forced those thoughts out of my head and replaced them with what I believed to be hate. I told myself that I don’t like my stepfather. That he is overbearing and irritating, but really, he’s just overprotective and the only reason he irritates me is because I can’t have him.

I’m going for just an innocent display of affection but it feels like anything but the second my lips touched his cheek. They tingle as my skin brushes against the stubble sitting along his hard jawline. His skin smells like he’d just washed his face before we left and the clean scent makes my insides practically melt. A part of me wants to taste that same skin, let my tongue dart out and feel the sharp bristles of his beard.
Shit.
I pull back quickly as if I’ve been burned, and the fiery redness in his cheeks makes me wonder if maybe I had. He’s still facing the road, and I’m not sure what it means that he won’t look at me, but I’m sure it’s all in my head.

He answers on the first ring. “Stass? You okay? You’ve only been there like an hour.” The concern in his voice warms me all over and I genuinely smile for the first time since I got to Carter’s house. I don’t realize I haven’t said anything when he speaks again. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
Baby? That’s…new.
“Will you just…come get me?”
“I’m on my way.”