Little Brats: Taboo A-Z Volume 1: (Forbidden Taboo Erotica) (Little Brats Boxed Sets) (3 page)

“You’re a bad girl,”  he replied hoarsely. 

“The baddest.”  She smirked.  “Do I need a spanking?” 

He hand came down hard against her bottom and she squealed, eyes widening. 

“To bed,”  he insisted. 

“Yes, Daddy.”  She felt his gaze on her the whole way. 

Anna cradled her cell phone, whispering to Lizbeth.  “They’re still fighting.” 

“Still?”  Her friend was chewing something loudly.  “At this rate, they’re gonna divorce by the time you graduate next month and you won’t get any money at all!” 

Anna had told her about her report card deal and the possibility of cashing in.  She was on track to get all As.  Of course, she hadn’t told her about the other, secret deal she’d made with her stepfather. 

“So what are they saying?”  Lizbeth crunched into the phone. 

Creeping to the door, Anna opened it a crack, hearing their voices rising up the stairs.  “Caroline, I’m not an idiot.  You really expect me to believe this guy on Facebook you decided to meet for drinks without telling me is ‘just a old friend?” 

“I don’t care what you believe!”  Anna’s mother snapped.  “It’s the truth.  If you can’t trust me, that’s your problem!” 

There was more, but Anna shut the door again, relaying the new information to Lizbeth. 

“Damn.  Your mom’s cheating? Why in the hell would she cheat on Drew? He’s so fucking
hawt
!” 

Anna didn’t tell her just how much she happened to agree with her.  “Hey, someone’s coming upstairs, I gotta run.” 

She heard their door open and close at the end of the hall.  Downstairs, a car pulled out of the driveway.  Anna peeked out the window and discovered her mother’s car gone.  Opening her bedroom door, she listened, but didn’t hear anything. 

“Hello?”  she called hesitantly, taking cautious steps toward their room and then knocking quietly.  “Is anyone home?” 

The door opened and there was Drew, his mouth set in a grim line.  She looked past him and saw a suitcase sitting open on the bed.  It was stuffed haphazardly with his clothes.  Her head was filled with a similar vision of her father, ten years earlier, packing a different suitcase. 

“What are you doing?”  she whispered, wide-eyed. 

“Leaving.”  He turned around, stalking back into the room, and began pulling his clothes out of dresser drawers. 

Anna sat on the edge of the bed, watching him shove his stuff into the suitcase.  He couldn’t leave.  He just couldn’t.  What was she going to do without him?

“Don’t go.”  She heard the tremble in her voice, but she couldn’t help it.  “Please.  Don’t leave me.” 

Drew stopped in the middle of zipping his suitcase, his expression softening as he looked at her.  “Oh sweetheart… I’m not leaving you.  I’m leaving your mother.” 

“But you’re leaving.”  Anna felt tears welling. 

“I’m sorry.”  Drew sat on the bed beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  “It’s just… it’s not working out between me and your mom.” 

Anna turned to face him, putting her arms around his neck, and he hugged her, kissing the top of her head.  When she lifted her face to his, their mouths were very close.  She could smell alcohol on his breath. 

“Take me with you,”  she breathed.  “Please.” 

“Oh Anna…”  He sighed, shaking his head.  She knew what his answer was going to be, but she knew too she could change his mind.  She was sure of it. 

She closed the gap between them, touching her lips to his.  He stiffened, starting to pull away, but she clung too tightly, climbing into his lap like she had that night on the sofa.  They hadn’t talked about it since, but it was always there, a secret between them, every time he saw her changing in her room (she left the door open when they were the only ones home) and then there was the time she caught him jerking off in the bathroom.  He’d called her name when he came, opening his eyes to see her standing there in the doorway with her hand stuck down her panties. 
It should have happened then
, she thought.  It should have happened that first night on the couch.  But somehow he had resisted.  They both had. 

But not now.  Not anymore. 

“Anna, no!”  Drew panted as she fumbled with his zipper, reaching in to unleash his cock.  It was as hard as she’d imagined, and she was on it before he could say another word, sucking and licking, hungry for him.  His hand moved in her hair, trying to push her away at first, but it was no use.  Her mouth was fastened over him, taking as much of him as she could. 

“I want it so much,”  she whispered, unzipping her own jeans one-handed and shoving her hand into them.  Her pussy was sopping wet.  “Oh God, please, Drew.  Please.” 

She looked up at him, begging with her eyes, her mouth, her hand stroking his cock, and still saw the hesitation on his face.  Anna stood, determined, sliding her jeans down over her hips and stepping out of them, peeling her t-shirt off.  She was in just a bra and panties now and the greedy look in her stepfather’s eyes was more than encouraging. 

“Touch me.”  She lifted his hand, pressing it to her breast over her bra.  Drew groaned, rubbing his thumb over her hard nipple through the material.  She shivered, moaning softly, her hand slipping under the elastic of her panties so she could play with herself.  “Oh God yes… that’s so good.  You make my pussy so wet.” 

He moaned again at her words, closing his eyes, shaking his head, but his body was betraying him, his hands traveling down her ribcage, her hips, pulling her into his lap.  She straddled him happily, rocking against his cock, just like she had that night on the sofa, and Drew kissed her, drawing her tongue into his mouth, sucking gently as he kicked off his jeans and boxers. 

“Oh Anna, sweetheart,”  he whispered, looking down to see her pussy exposed, panties aside, the entrance just inches from the head of his dick.  “I can’t.  We can’t.  Ohhh fuck.” 

“Yes,”  she insisted, pushing him back on the bed.  The suitcase was beside them, packed and ready to go.  “Yes, we can.  Fuck me, Drew.” 

He looked up at her sitting on top of him, her hand moving the head of his cock through her slit, coming dangerously close to her hole.  Her pussy spasmed, as if it could draw him into her. 

“You know you want it.”  She slapped the head of his dick against her pussy.  “You want to fuck my wet little cunt.” 

“Anna!”  he cried, shaking his head, but she knew her words were getting to him. 

“Yes, Daddy,”  she murmured, hearing him make a sound that was almost a sob.  “You want to fuck your little girl’s wet pussy, don’t you?” 

“Ohhhh fuck.”  His hands tightened on her hips, face twisted into a grimace.  “Ohhhh yes.  Yes! I want your cunt! Put it in, Anna! Put it in!” 

Triumphant, she did, sliding down onto his cock in one long, fluid motion.  They both cried out at the sensation, and Anna leaned over to kiss him, slanting her mouth across his in a desperate kiss. 

“I’m going to fuck you, little girl,”  he murmured, his hips already rolling under hers.  “I’m going to fuck you so fucking good.” 

She moaned as he bucked her up, rolling her onto the bed and driving into her.  Anna gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, as he fucked her hard and deep, giving her all the pent up lust they’d been holding back for months—for years. 

“Ohhh yes, Daddy!”  She fucked him back, as hard as she could.  “Do it hard! I love it hard like that! Oh yesss!” 

He grunted and thrust, grinding his pelvis into hers.  “Oh Anna, your fucking pussy is so good.  I’m gonna come! I’m gonna come, sweetheart.  Ahhhh God!” 

“Yes!”  She arched her back, hands fisted in his hair, feeling her own orgasm just seconds behind.  “Oh Daddy, make me come all over your big fucking cock!” 

That did it for both of them, and Drew shuddered and slammed into her one last time, sending her over the edge of darkness into light, the world exploding around them both.  She felt every pulse as he filled her, every sweet wave of his cum, and her spasming pussy welcomed it all. 

“Oh Anna.”  He kissed her cheek, her mouth, her chin, her neck.  “Oh fuck.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,”  she murmured, stroking his hair, still dizzy, her ears ringing.  “Just take me with you.” 

He lifted his head, looking down at her with soft eyes.  “Oh God, girlie.  If we did that… I don’t even want to think what might happen.” 

“Anything.”  She smiled, kissing his cheek.  “We could be… oh Drew, we could be everything to each other.  We could run off and be together and… and find some happy.” 

Drew chuckled.  “Find some happy?” 

“That’s what Lizbeth says.  She says if you’re not getting it where you’re at, you should go find yourself some happy.”  Anna wanted this, wanted him, more than she ever could have said.  Now that she was faced with losing him, she knew it more than she ever had before.  She just didn’t know if he felt the same way about her. 

He has to.  He just has to. 

He looked at her for a long time, not saying anything and she felt herself trembling, hoping beyond hope. 

“I love you, Anna.” 

She blinked back tears.  “I love you too, Drew.” 

“What was I thinking?”  He lowered his head to her neck and she felt him give a little sob and her heart lurched in her chest, hope fading.  And then he said something she could have only dreamed of hearing.  “I couldn’t leave you, girlie.  I could never leave you.” 

“So you’ll take me with you?”  she asked, breathless. 

He groaned, sounding like a man in pain.  “Yes.  Fuck it.  Yes, yes, yes.  Pack your bags, sweetheart.  Let’s go find ourselves some happy.”

Tomboy Becca has always been the girl who caught frogs, made mud pies and climbed trees.  She’s never cared for or even paid attention to boys much, unless they were tossing a ball in her direction, but when a new girl shows in up at her school during her senior year, all that changes. 

How does the new girl get so much attention just for wearing skimpy clothes? Becca discovers she does want the boys to notice her after all, and decides to find out how to make that happen. 

And what better place to start her experiment than at home?

Because the person she wants to notice her the most just happens to be her stepfather.

She was dreaming about him.

She knew it was awful.  Twisted.  Perverted.  Even sick.  It was so very wrong, on so many levels.  But she couldn’t control her unconscious, could she? And maybe that was the scariest thing of all. 

In her dream, he touched her.  Her mother was there for once, sitting in the living room on her laptop, smoking Pall Malls and swearing under her breath.  She and Duncan were at the kitchen table, in full view, sorting slate from quartz from limestone from slag.

“Look, a Petoskey stone!”  In her dream, she held it up, amazed.  They were a rare find—both a rock and a fossil, the result of millions of years of glacial grinding and found only in Northern Michigan—and Duncan was just as thrilled as she was. 

“Wow!”  He admired her find, his eyes behind his glasses bright with excitement.  And that’s when she felt his hand on her knee under the table.  The sensation was unmistakable, his palm warm, rubbing gently. 

She swallowed and her dream-eyes met his.  He’d never looked at her that way.  She’d seen him admire other women like that, including her mother, at least way back when they were first married.  And the other day, he’d been shocked into commenting about the new girl, who liked to wear short-short skirts and shirts that didn’t quite cover her navel.  But he’d never turned to Becca with that look of lust in his eyes before. 

His hand moved ever so slowly up her thigh, massaging.  In her dream, she was wearing jean cut-offs, like she always did as much of the year she could get away with, and by the time his hand reached the seam of her shorts, she was so wet she was almost ready to come.  And all the while, they both pretended nothing was going on, nothing at all.  But she was imagining how hard his cock must be, and her pussy ached for release.

In her sleep, she whimpered, and she heard him say her name, a whisper so her mother wouldn’t hear, his mouth close to her ear, and then she was coming, her orgasm a shameful, shuddering relief. 

“Becca…” 

She awoke slowly, still trembling with her climax, her own hand scissored between her thighs under the covers, feeling Duncan’s presence beside her, his weight settled on the edge of her bed.  Twisting toward him, she whimpered, unsure if she was awake or still dreaming until he spoke again.

“Becca, it’s time.  Are you ready?”

“Mmm,”  was all the answer she could manage, still too breathless to speak.  Waking to find her stepfather in her bed after that dream was too surreal for words. 

“Come on, sleepyhead.”  He brushed the hair away from her face in the dim light, and she saw through her window, just over his shoulder, that it was still dark.  “The catfish are jumpin’.”

“Comin’,”  she mumbled, flushing at her choice of words, glad for the darkness.  “I’ll meet you in the truck.” 

She got dressed in the dark, being quiet out of habit, even though her mother wasn’t home.  She’d left on another business trip last week, after being back for just three days, this time to some place in Europe.  She’d called last night for her weekly check-in, informing them both that she wouldn’t be in the United States again for another month.  The plant she was setting up in Italy was going to take longer than they expected. 

Of course, Becca was used to her being gone.  Her mother hired nannies to stay with her when Becca was little, but now she had Duncan.  And Becca and Duncan had fallen into their own routine over the past two years, one more the norm than the times when her mother was actually home.  She wondered sometimes if Duncan knew what he’d been signing up for when he married one of the most successful businesswomen in the country, but he didn’t seem to mind.  He was busy enough with his own business, building websites and developing Apps. 

Duncan had the truck running and the heater on—there was a little nip in the air—and their poles and tackle boxes were in the back.  The drive to the lake was quiet and quick.  Becca shivered and Duncan turned the heater up even more, but she wasn’t cold.  It was an involuntary response.  Her body just did things around him, without consulting her. 

He parked and they moved like synchronized dancers, they’d done this so often, putting their poles and tackle into the boat, pushing it away from the dock, and hopping in barefoot, their shoes already in the boat.  He grabbed one oar, she grabbed the other, and they began to row.  The water was still and calm, like dusky, smoked glass. 

They maneuvered the boat together into the current and Duncan slowly let down the anchor before they began baiting their hooks and tossing their lines.  They each had two poles—double the chance for a whitefish dinner that night.  She glanced over at him, wondering just how to ask him what she’d been so preoccupied with for the past week. 

“You’re quiet this morning,”  he remarked, as if reading her mind.  He was still piercing his hook with one the night crawlers they kept in a cooler at their feet. 

She anchored her pole, snapping it in place.  “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

She sat back in the boat, cross-legged and put her chin in her hand.  “You know the new girl I pointed out to you?”

Duncan snorted, tossing out his line.  “You didn’t have to point her out.  I imagine she gets a lot of attention.” 

“You can say that again.”  Becca sighed.  “All the boys are after her.”

“I bet they are.”

“Is that really all a girl has to do to get a boy’s attention?”  Becca asked.  “Wear short skirts and tight shirts?”

Duncan sighed, snapping his own rod and reel into place.  “I suppose most boys would notice a girl like that.”

“You
sure did,”  Becca snapped, realizing how that sounded the moment it came out of her mouth. 

“Well… I’m only human.”  Her stepfather smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose.  He was very handsome, even with the John-Lennon-like spectacles that made him look a little too studious, with wavy dark hair and the most interesting gray eyes.  They reminded her of the lake— reflective, expansive, wide-open and deep.  “But just because they notice her, doesn’t mean they really like her or respect her.”

Becca laughed.  “I don’t think girls like Jessica want respect.”

“That’s probably true,”  her stepfather agreed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of gum.  It was always the same—Dentyne Cinnamon Ice—and sometimes she dreamed about the smell of it.  He offered her a piece, just like always, and she took it, tucking the wrapper into her pocket and the gum in her mouth.

“I wish boys looked at me that way,”  she said, watching the line of orange growing along the horizon as the taste of cinnamon exploded in her mouth. 

Duncan frowned and shook his head, snapping his gum.  “No you don’t.”

“Yes I do,”  she insisted, remembering how Jessica had flounced through the halls, her long tanned legs looking even longer in impossibly high heels, her skirt so short it barely covered the curve of her ass.  Her t-shirt was white with some logo on the front, but she’d been braless underneath, her dark nipples clearly visible.  Even the principal, who had given her a warning about her attire, but who hadn’t sent her home, had stared unabashedly at the way her nipples poked against her shirt.  “Just once I’d like to turn heads like that.”

“You’re a beautiful girl, Becca.”  Duncan reached over, putting a hand on her knee, and she immediately flashed back to her dream, feeling her body fill with heat.  “You don’t need any of that to get boys to notice you.”

“If you say so.”  She bit her lip, feeling his hand moving, oh God, just like in her dream, kneading her flesh, ever so slowly. 
Yes, yes, yes,
she thought, bowing her head and closing her eyes in anticipation, letting her dark hair cover her flushed cheeks.  She couldn’t believe this was really happening, finally, finally…

And then he withdrew his hand, clearing his throat and fiddling with his rod and reel.  “Any guy who’s attracted to the Becca I know—the girl who likes baiting hooks and stalking deer and sailing—is going to like you for who you are.  And who you are is pretty amazing.”

She sighed.  “If you say so.”

“Trust me.”  He patted her knee, but his hand didn’t linger this time.  “Besides, if you ever leave my house looking like that Jessica girl, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

He gave her a dark look.  “I’ll spank your ass until you can’t sit down.”

“You got a bite.”  She gulped, nodding toward his fishing pole—the line had gone taut. 

Duncan reached for his rod and Becca watched, dejected.  She really didn’t care about all the silly boys in school.  Most of them didn’t interest her at all.  The truth was, the one guy she really longed to have notice her that way was reeling in their first catch of the morning, and she didn’t know if he would ever look at her that way. 

But she desperately wanted him to.