TOO HOT TO BE STEPDADDY

NAUGHTY LITTLE GAMES

Tiana

My mouth went bone dry. My eyes went wide.

Oh s**t… busted.

The words hit me like a physical slap, but my mouth moved faster than my brain ever could.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, head snapping up, eyes wide and bright with fake outrage. I put my hand over my chest like I was genuinely offended, leaning back in my chair to put some distance between us. "First of all, rude. Second of all, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I was asleep last night. I barely remember getting into the house, let alone whatever weird fantasy you seem to have made up in your head. Slut? Really? That’s a pretty big word for something that didn’t even happen."

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, doing my absolute best impression of an innocent girl wrongly accused. Inside? My heart was pounding. I really act like that? Did I really say all those things? Please tell me he’s exaggerating.

Anthonio just stood there, towering over me, looking down with that unreadable, stone-cold expression. He didn’t look impressed. He didn’t look fooled. If anything, his eyes darkened further, watching me squirm.

"Tiana, darling!"

The cheerful voice cut through the tension like a knife. Eva walked into the dining room, radiant and perfectly put together in a soft yellow dress, holding a tablet and chattering away before she even sat down. She didn’t notice the heavy, charged atmosphere sitting between Anthonio and me, or the way Anthonio’s gaze was pinned to my face, heavy with secrets.

"Good morning, my loves! Isn’t it just a beautiful day?" She beamed, sliding into her chair at the other end, opening her tablet and scrolling happily. "I was up early finalizing everything for the Charity Luncheon next week. Anthonio, you have to come. Everyone will be there. The mayor, the whole board, all the society ladies. It’s going to be the event of the season, and I simply cannot go without my handsome husband by my side."

She kept talking about tables, seating arrangements, flower colors, guest lists…filling the silence with her bright, meaningless chatter. She was completely oblivious to the fact that just hours ago, her daughter had been straddling her husband’s lap in the hallway, or that her husband had used her daughter’s body as an excuse to get hard right in front of her.

I nodded and smiled at all the right times, making small sounds of agreement, my eyes darting everywhere except toward Anthonio. Every time I felt his gaze on me, and I felt it constantly. I wanted to slide under the table and hide. I reached for my glass of orange juice, just to have something to do with my hands, took a sip, and almost choked.

"And Tiana, you simply must come too!" Eva said, turning her bright smile toward me. "It would be so good for you to get out and socialize properly. Meet some nice people. Maybe even a nice young man. You spend far too much time cooped up in your room, dear."

"Oh, I don't know..." I laughed nervously, wiping my mouth with a napkin I definitely didn't need. "I’m not really the… charity luncheon type. You know how I am. Too quiet. Too boring."

"Quiet?" Anthonio spoke for the first time since she walked in. His voice was calm, smooth, perfectly polite, but his eyes locked onto mine across the table, gleaming with dark, wicked knowledge. "Boring? I wouldn’t say that, Eva. Your daughter is… far from boring. She’s full of surprises. You never know what she’s going to do, or say, next."

My blood ran cold. I froze, the glass halfway back to the table. He was doing it again. Talking in code. Reminding me. Letting me know he remembered every single detail while my mother sat right there smiling.

"See?" Eva laughed, completely missing the danger. "Even Anthonio agrees you’re interesting! You’re coming, and that’s final. It’ll be fun, I promise."

I just nodded weakly, setting the glass down carefully. I couldn’t wait to get away from him and those eyes that stripped me naked every time he looked at me.

By midday, I had successfully hidden in my room for three hours, pretending to be busy on my laptop. The memory of last night. The way he looked at me this morning. It was all stuck in my head, looping over and over like a dirty movie I couldn’t turn off.

I needed a distraction. Or maybe… I needed to see him again. Just a peek. Just to confirm that everything I remembered was real and not just some drunk, dirty fantasy my brain made up.

I slipped out of my room and down the hallway toward the private gym. It was at the back of the house, soundproofed, huge, filled with equipment that probably cost more than most people’s cars. The door was slightly ajar, and soft sounds of movement and heavy breathing drifted out.

I stopped right at the edge of the doorframe, pressing my back against the wall, and peeked in through the gap.

Oh.

My.

God.

He was there. Shirtless.

Gone were the suits, the crisp shirts, the buttons, the ties. He was wearing only dark grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt, no shoes, nothing else. His back was to me, hands gripping the pull-up bar high above him, and he was moving—smoothly.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Every single movement pulled his body tight, flexing every single muscle he had, and God he had so many. The suits didn’t just hide a good body—they hid everything. They hid the defined lines of his arms, veins popping slightly, biceps and triceps carved out of stone.

He was perfect, strong, dangerous and breathtaking. And he was completely focused, eyes straight ahead, completely unaware I was standing just feet away, practically drooling.

My mouth went dry instantly. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. I leaned my shoulder against the wall, eyes glued to his body, remembering exactly how those shoulders felt under my hands, exactly how hard his chest was when I pressed against it.

My hand moved before I even thought about it. I reached down, slipping my hand inside the waistband of my shorts and panties, touching myself instantly, finding myself already wet and aching just from looking at him. A soft gasp escaped my lips, barely audible.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. This is your stepfather. Your mother’s husband.

But my brain was foggy, drowning in lust and adrenaline and that dangerous thrill of doing something forbidden. I pulled my phone out with my other hand, unlocking it, opening the OnlyFans app. I knew exactly what I was doing. This was my job.

I hit record.

I leaned my head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, camera pointed vaguely toward the open door where he was working out, but mostly focused on me. On my hand moving faster under my clothes, on the way my lips parted, on the way my chest rose and fell with heavy, rapid breaths. I stroked myself slow and deep, imagining it was his hand instead of mine. Imagining those big, rough fingers inside me instead of my own. Imagining him watching me, knowing exactly what I was doing.

It felt incredible. I was completely lost in it, moaning soft and quiet, hips moving slightly against my own hand, completely forgetting where I was, completely forgetting everything except the pleasure building fast and hard inside me.

I didn’t hear the movement inside the room. I didn’t hear him drop from the bar. I didn’t hear the footsteps.

I only realized something was wrong when the light shifted. When the shadow fell over me.

My eyes flew open.

He was standing right there.

Right in front of me. Bare chest heaving slightly, sweat dripping down his chest and over the hard ridges of his abs. He was looking down at me, eyes locked straight onto my hand…still buried deep inside my shorts, still moving, fingers soaked and glistening with my own juices.

I froze. My hand stopped instantly. The phone was still recording, held limply in my other hand, pointed uselessly at the floor. My mouth fell open, no sound coming out. My heart raced so fast thought I might pass out right there against the wall.

I yanked my hand out fast, trying to hide it behind my back, trying to pull my shorts up, trying to look anywhere but at his face. It was too late. He had seen everything. He had seen exactly what I was doing.

He didn’t move back. He leaned closer, towering over me, invading every inch of my space, his scent…sweat, musk, pure male, filling my lungs and making my knees weak. His eyes dropped to my hand, now pressed flat against the wall behind me, before dragging slowly back up to my face.

His voice was low, filled with desire and amusement and that dark, dominant edge that made my legs turn to jelly.

"You're more naughty than I thought."