Step-Bully (Wanting What’s Wrong #2) Read Online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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This is so wrong. He’s family and I barely know him. The contrast of those two things not lost on me but neither of them seem to dampen the desire that’s thundering between my legs and drumming in my chest.

“Where are we going?” I manage through the lump lodged in my throat.

“You’ll see, just up here.” He slows the truck, taking a left onto a little dirt strip that looks like it doesn’t belong on this urban side of town. My tits bounce on the rough road and I catch Scotch admiring the view even in the low light inside the truck cab.

“Your tits make my mouth water.”

I feel the heat rise on my cheeks. “That so?” I look down, inspecting myself. “They are pretty nice. Real too. That seems to be a novelty tonight.”

A low chuckle leaves his throat. “True enough, little girl.” The closed in trees along the road open up and across a long stretch of grass in a stunning lake. Not like a great lake, but not a pond either. The slice of silver crescent moon flickers on the glass surface as Scotch pulls the truck right down to the edge and turns off the engine.

“What is this?”

“My own private Idaho,” he says, clicking his tongue as he hops out of the truck, coming around to open my door, helping me down then reaching inside to grab the champagne.

The spring night air is hinting summer is right around the corner. There’s crickets chirping and the traffic sound from the road has disappeared.

“Oh, just, I don’t drink.” I lick my lips, expecting him to be disappointed but instead he nods and tosses the bottle over his head into the woods. “I don’t have, like, a drinking problem. I just… I hate the taste.”

“I don’t drink either. At least not alcohol, but I do have a few other choices.”

He opens the back door of the truck, reaching up and in and coming back out with four smallish bottles in his hands.

“Take your pick. Pomegranate is my favorite.”

“Is that Morrow’s Juice?” I step forward, grabbing one of the square glass bottles staring at the label. “I love this stuff. It’s like seven dollars a bottle.”

“It’s damn good. All I drink besides water.” He trails his eye down until they are locked on my crotch. “Until you.”

“What?” I ask, stepping forward, this whole night making me feel like something inside me has cracked open and I don’t care anymore. “Are you insinuating you’d like to drink from somewhere else?”

Scotch’s hand darts out and his fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me forward. “You being a tease, little sister?”

“Just asking a question. You avoiding the answer?” I challenge, this push-pull power play heady and tense but so fucking hot. He shakes his head, standing steady, pulling me by the hair closer, tracing the backs of his fingers down my sternum as my skin prickles and a shiver makes me close my eyes for a second.

“Nope. I just don’t like being questioned. I like my actions to speak for me.”

“Man of action. I like that.” I lick my lips as he releases my hair, only to reach out and take a handful of my breast like a melon he just bought at the market.

I hiss an inhale as he squeezes, his eyes on mine, that smirky little smile curving his stupid sexy lips and that hair dangling on his forehead.

“You ever had action before, little girl? Daddy thinks you’re a pure little snowflake.”

Daddy has the same effect on me as good girl did and my knees turn to jello.

The crickets are drowned out by the thumping of my heart as his hand works my breast and his dark eyes narrow.

“I’m going to drink from that little honey pot of yours, sister. No one has to know. You won’t tell, will you?”

He steps forward, his body against mine as the last of my breath leaves my lungs.

“I won’t tell.” It’s my voice but I’m not sure it’s me saying it. “I promise.”

Scotch explodes forward, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me down on the cool grass, already tugging at the waist of my pants as I work the button and zipper.

There’s fire in his brown eyes, desperation and danger and I have no idea who I am right now, but for the first time in my life, I’m not thinking of anyone but me.

“Son of a bitch, you’re a temptation I never expected, Lula.”

I push my hips up as he strips my pants down my legs, then fight to get my boots off like there’s a bomb about to go off any second.

“I’m a virgin,” I announce, as if he didn’t know, but I want it out there.

“I’m only going to taste that sweet cherry tonight. Probably turn that ass over for a nice spanking too just because I want to. But breeding that little honey hole of yours is going to wait for another time. Daddy will make it special, little girl. But right now, I can smell your heat. That slick baby maker of yours is going to drip all over my face, isn’t it?”


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