My Filthy Stepbrother – Forbidden Fantasies Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
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"Take off, Amber. I'll deal with Wesley," I tell her. I get on the store's loudspeaker to make an announcement. "Good afternoon, shoppers. It's unfortunate that I have to request that all shoppers please come to the front of the store and checkout. Flannigan's will be closing in the next half hour. Thank you."

This is what Wesley gets for walking out. I'm not a cashier, and I have no intention of learning how to do the job. I work beside Amber as she walks me through her close-out process, drops the money in the safe, and follows her to the front doors, where I lock me and Cody inside.

"Dakota," I call out. She doesn't answer.

It takes me a while to find her in the women's accessories section where she's trying on sunglasses. By the time I reach her, I can see why she didn't reply. Her earbuds block everything out, including my footsteps. She yelps and clutches her chest when I tap her on the shoulder.

"Fuck, Dean. You scared the crap out of me," she says, pulling a pod out and dropping it in her pocket. It only takes me a minute to drag my eyes up and down her body. A form-fitting dress with a cardigan gives an appearance of professionalism, but my eyes only seem to focus on the bottom hem. It stops in the middle of her thigh, milky white, soft, and tempting me to taste her.

"The store's closing early," I tell her.

Cody takes a minute to look around. "What about talking to the owner? It took me forever to figure this outfit out. Just professional enough to be taken seriously."

"Yeah, about that." I take a breath and level with her. "Wesley just stormed out of here. He's not looking for anyone right now. Unless you have a way to make this store some money over the next six months."

She laughs. "I have plenty of ideas, but I'm going to need some more information. I guess I should head home."

Cody unintentionally puts the sunglasses in her purse and turns to leave the store. I stop her with a smile spreading across my face. "Where do you think you're going?"

She giggles. "Dean, I literally just told you. I'm going home."

"The glasses?"

"What glasses?"

"The ones you didn't pay for. I know you didn't pay for them because Amber, the only cashier, just left. You need to come with me, Miss Austin."

"You're not serious." She laughs again, pulling the glasses out of her purse and sitting them on the counter.

I can't stop myself. The fantasy playing out in my head will never have an opportunity like this. Shaking my head and squinting my eyes, I pause to give her a moment, wondering if she'll figure out what I have in mind.

"I'm deadly serious, Cody. The store's closed up early. No one else is here, and I want to be sure you're not hiding anything before we leave."

She can barely contain the grin spreading across her face. "You're really going to do this. I haven't been accused of shoplifting since I was a teenager. Fine, Officer Dawson. Lead the way."

5

DAKOTA

The emptiness of the department store is shocking, to say the least. Even more shocking are the lengths Dean is going through to enforce his position as the security guard for the store. There are circular racks of clothes crowding the aisles as we walk from one section of the store to another.

Every step has me glancing over my shoulder at Dean. The strength of his hand on my lower back nudging me toward the back room sends tingles down my spine. Anticipation grips me by the throat as I imagine him doing the same. The walls of my pussy clench, moisten at the idea of it, wondering what's about to happen between us.

"You know, Dean, I don't have anything else in my bag from this store. I didn't even mean to put the glasses inside."

We stop in front of a door with a sign telling everyone in front of this door that behind it is a place for staff only. Dean's hand never leaves my back, and he reaches around to turn the knob and let me inside.

I'm not sure what to expect when I step over the threshold into the employee area, but the office is small. Ten feet by ten feet of a matte gray mess. There are cork boards on one wall with several pages pinned to it, and an array of six monitors plays various angles of the department store. Along another are a few shelves with random items that probably belong on display.

"Are you going to say anything, Dean?" I ask him when he slowly pulls my bag off my shoulder to sit it on the surprisingly clean desk.

There isn't a stapler or coffee mug that hints at Dean working from this space. Nothing is personal except the space he's closing between us. The quietness of his power fills every ounce of emptiness around us.


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