Wanting What’s Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Wanting What’s Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:51 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Wanting What’s Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Step-Kink (Wanting What’s Wrong #11) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:01:51 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Forbidden, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)

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He has the face of my father, but his hands are all his.
Rye McAllister is my dad's twin brother. He took me to my first thrift store, named a bonsai tree after me, and was always there at Sunday brunch.

Now Dad's in rehab, Mom’s a mess, I have the tryout of a lifetime coming up, and Rye's sleeping down the hall as my stand-in father figure.

And I am not okay.

When my friends drag me to a bachelorette weekend, I’m expecting chocolate dildos and too much tequila, not a private kink club for Truth or Dare night. And, because God hates me specifically, guess who’s there? Uncle Rye.

Things go from awkward to holy sh*t when he slaps a collar on my neck and takes all my dares for himself.
So, what do I do? I bolt. Because I’m the good girl that holds the family together by being, well… perfect.
The McAllister Clan is coming apart. But will love be enough to put the pieces back together?

Author's This filthy little bachelorette-gone-wrong features a 6'5" step-uncle with his twin brother's face and an obsession with a sweet, tiny dancer that is 100% off limits. Safe, no cheating, with a hero who tracks her iPhone like a love language. He looks like her dad, but being her Daddy is what he was born for

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Elodie

How am I going to spend two weeks in the same house with the man I can't stop thinking about? A man who, incidentally, looks exactly like my father?

It's just so wrong.

Here I am, scrolling through my phone, looking at pictures of my Uncle Rye, while my mother packs her bag to go visit my father across the country in rehab.

A little bead of sweat trickles down my chest, making me shiver as April sun streams through the kitchen window.

"Rye will be here tonight,” she says as she fidgets with the tag on her Coach bag making sure the logo is clearly visible. “Most people can't tell the difference between him and your father. He'll come and go, just like your dad does. He'll drive the minivan. Just don't let any of the neighbors get too nosy, and don't mention what's going on to anyone. Elodie, are you listening?"

Blood rushes to my face, and I turn my phone face down on the granite island.

“I’m listening,” I say, receiving a doubtful frown in response. “Uncle Rye will be pretending to be Dad. Got it.”

“Perhaps you should call him Dad at all times while he’s here. What do they call it, method acting?”

I nod ignoring the rush of dampness that seeps from my body thinking of sleeping a wall away from my uncle for two weeks. “Got it. I’ll call him Dad.”

I bet Dad fucks like a beast.

All that calm control has to have an outlet right? God, I wonder if he will be jerking off while he’s here? The vision has my feminine parts clenching. My nipples are achy and sensitive and my clit is ten kinds of demanding right now.

Rye could melt most frigid women’s resolve into a steaming puddle of wanton desire with those spooky greenish gold eyes of his and the way he moves through life with a confidence that makes you want to put him between you and all the terrible things in the world. I tell myself it’s just infatuation build on the quiet attention he’s given me since I was five years old.

But, every time I see him, it’s like the air disappears. I want to reach down and rub away the tension he creates between my legs.

I know nothing of men in that way really except what Anna and Jeremy my besties from grade school tell me. But there are things built into our DNA we cannot control. Desire and want. God, so much want.

My mother offers a thin smile and I return one in my practiced, polished perfect daughter manner.

Image is everything to my mother. She won Miss Michigan, after all, and her own mother was first runner-up in the Miss USA pageant, 1952, or whatever year it was.

“No fast food,” she says checking her lipstick in the glassy front of the wall oven. “I mean it, Elodie, don’t let Rye lead you astray. You’re doing so well on this diet, I don’t want to lose our progress. Remember that Sophia said their only doubt about you is that you’ve…filled out a bit more than is normally acceptable for a principal dancer.”

I click my molars together on another forced smile. “Got it. No fast food. I promise.”

She turns to open a cupboard and take yet another count of the diet shakes stacked in there, and I take the opportunity for another peek at my phone.

I tap on my photo files, then another tap to the hidden file I keep.

The latest snapshot of Uncle Rye pops up first from last month's performance of Swan Lake, where he brought me five dozen white roses. The picture is him standing next to me as I struggle to hold up what felt like fifty pounds of floral bliss.

“You have enough Opti-Cal to last two weeks. Weigh in when you first get up after you pee, then again right before bed. The app will log it and I’ll check it while I’m gone. Remember, accountability keeps us honest. God help me, if that man ruins all the work we’ve done—”

"Everything will be okay, Mom. Just take care of Dad."

Two years ago, I put on five pounds during spring break, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. Mom blames Uncle Rye because he insisted that I could share his Chinese take-out when he came to visit, just a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday. He ordered enough for six, and I pigged out but I also took on an extra two hour practice every day because there was no school, so I’m not sure if the five pounds was from the fried rice, or just a little water weight from an overload of msg and sodium.

I’m six pounds lighter than I was then and Mom is happier with things this way.

And honestly? When Mom’s happy, my life is a heck of a lot easier.

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Advertisement Step-Crush (Wanting What’s Wrong #9) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-crush-wanting-whats-wrong-9-read-online-dani-wyatt Fri, 15 Mar 2024 06:57:38 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-crush-wanting-whats-wrong-9-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Taboo Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)

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I should have kept my mouth shut when the FBI showed up at my door.Answering their questions about my billionaire stepfather’s mafia connections has landed me in the trunk of his car.Since he and my mom parted ways, he’s been in the background of my life lurking, but I’ve always known he was there, ya know? That prickly feeling on the back of your neck that tells you someone is watching.But now he wants something else from me.Something more permanent.He says he’s a man of honor, so he makes sure we are married before…well, the real action starts.Turns out, he likes a little fight and a lot of chase. I’m not a girl who goes down easy, but for Ramses Moreno, it turns out I’ll do almost anything.Author’s Get ready for a healthy dose of unhealthy love. And, never fear, there was nothing but a piece of paper between the hero and the former wife. There’s a lot of hot action and almost no plot. So, be warned, this over the top and out of control hero doesn’t take no for an answer. Always safe, no cheating, all the steamy feels and their own kind of HEA.This is the last of the WANTING WHAT’S WRONG series of standalones.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Ramses

With a name like Ramses Maurizio Alexander Moreno, IV, there were two ways I could go.

Become a philosopher or a madman.

I became both.

In that I have a philosophy and I’ve been called crazy more times than I can count.

Then, I met her, and I became something else.

Obsessed.

The A/C inside my car kicks into high gear with the early afternoon Tahoe sun beating down on the black exterior of my Bentley. Sitting in the back seat is proof of my madness. A new high-intensity UV light I bought after burning out the first one on those Yaz fucking pills she takes.

I bake them under the light until they are inert, then swap them for the ones she keeps in her medicine cabinet whenever I come and go from her house unannounced and unnoticed.

But after months of sabotaging her hormones, all that is over. I’ll be throwing that light into the next available dumpster. She’s pushed me to the edge this time and I’m done waiting.

My dick, in its incessantly-needy state, throbs behind my zipper reminding me of how fucking neglected it is.

If it wasn’t for my hand, I might as well cut the fucker off because since Bijou came into my life, no other women had a chance.

But at first she was full-throttle off limits.

I’m a man of singular purpose when I want something. Patience is not my virtue. But for her, I’ve waited. Told myself this once, I could not have what I wanted. She deserved better.

She deserved a life. One with picket fences and minivans. One without the worry of retaliation and a husband who kills like other men mow the lawn. It’s just something that needs doing sometimes.

She would have weekends with the girls, drink too much wine, pretending suburbia was what she wanted. Not a beast of a husband who bangs her ass up against the wall when she gets out of line, shoving my fingers down her throat as she tries to scream like I murdered her family.

A man who soothes her with his cock in her sassy little mouth until she falls asleep with a new attitude.

But my little stepdaughter won’t be getting the minivan and macchiato life because she crossed the fucking line.

She talked to the wrong person. And now it’s time she learned I’m always watching. Always listening. Waiting for the moment when my control snaps and I do the unthinkable.

To her.

With her.

For her.

That moment is now, as I watch her dancing around the house I bought for our family when I married her mother years ago. Bijou was a girl then, and I silently swore to protect her forever. But as the years passed, I promised myself other things.

Things a stepfather shouldn’t promise.

I never touched her mother. Marrying her was a favor I never thought would be called in. But when it was, I answered. Because under all the darkness and violence, I am a man of honor.

I live by a code, even if it is my own.

My all-consuming obsession has brought me here, rubbing my concrete hard erection as I sit behind the wheel of my blacked-out armored Bentley. High-resolution binoculars press into my eye sockets as my heart thunders in my chest, knowing that by the end of the day, she will understand her role from this day forward.

Mine.

I’ve planned everything down to the minute. I haven’t slept in a week. She’d opened her mouth to the wrong person and it was time for her lessons to begin.

I grit my teeth as I shift in my seat, trying to get my balls to stop aching because they’re ready to fucking bust.

Implementing measures for the last year on how to increase your sperm count has its pros and cons.

I switched to boxers.

I chilled my nutsack until it damn near froze off.

I ate fucking clean, whatever the hell that means.

I worked out and took some Eastern medicine supplement that made everything taste like maple syrup. The fucking works.

But now that the time is drawing near for my swimmers to march into her womb and conquer, I wish I’d done more.

I need her bound to me right fucking now.

The pounding obsession with impregnating my stepdaughter pushes me to the edge of reason, blurring my vision and darkening my already-black soul.

I stare at my phone where it sits on the console, her fresh face on the screen as I reach down and flip through the file of her photos.

The first one I ever took occupies the front of my phone screen, taken when she woke up on her eighteenth birthday.

She’s cross-legged on her bed, sporting a wicked bedhead and a Rammstein t-shirt from the concert the night before. It’s been her favorite band since I introduced her to German industrial metal when she was fifteen.

The tickets, backstage passes and the private suite equipped with a full battalion of security from Moreno Consolidated Industries was my gift to her and ten of her closest friends.

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Advertisement Step-Sinner (Wanting What’s Wrong #8) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-sinner-wanting-whats-wrong-8-read-online-dani-wyatt Tue, 27 Feb 2024 19:57:17 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-sinner-wanting-whats-wrong-8-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)

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When she steps off the plane and into my charge, I know she will be the temptation I can't resist.

Years ago, I retreated from the world to run a school for wayward girls. My work has only served to solidify my belief that females are unholy, lying, cheating creatures and my celibacy has never been tested.

Until Kitty arrives. The second our eyes meet, my vows begin to crumble. Dark desires from the past rise inside me, begging for release upon her lush curves and dimpled cheeks. I will mark her as mine and teach her the meaning of devotion.

She will call me Father at first, but before long, she will know me only as Daddy. I will risk everything to make her mine. But, when she finds out who I really am, the vows we made to each other are tested and if it takes moving heaven and earth to get her back...

I will.

Author’s Note: When Kitty’s parents send her away to stay with her stepbrother where he’s the headmaster of a very special church school she has no idea her wild child ways are about to be tamed by the ultimate holy-moly bad boy. It’s forbidden fruit and juicy cherry picking from these dual first timers on an altar of sin you won’t soon forget!

Wanting What’s Wrong Series: Step right up if you want to get down with some "No, no, we can't, it's so wrong." action! Enjoy all books in the series as standalones.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Martin

“I’ll never get used to you wearing that.” Giovanni snaps his tongue over his front teeth, waving at my black robe as I blow at the steam rising from my coffee mug. “Do the robes keep you warm? Because it would freeze the tits off a heretic in here.”

The comforting smell of coffee and the warmth of the mug in my palms doesn’t change that it’s butt ass cold in the mornings in my office at the rectory. The two-hundred-year-old stone walls and floor have a persistent chill. The ancient as fuck heating system hisses and sputters and the woven tapestries on the ten-foot-tall leaded glass windows do nothing to keep the heat in.

I point my index fingers that are wrapped around the mug toward my friend’s blue Brooks Brothers tie. “I’ll never get used to you wearing that. In college, you used to cut off guys ties in the bar telling them they were sheep.”

He scoffs but doesn’t bother to deny it. “Only when I was drunk.”

“That was most of the time.” I draw a sip of the dark liquid between my lips, closing my eyes as it scalds my tongue, burning its way down my throat. Giovanni called last night, letting me know he was passing through on his way to a meeting with some over-paid chemists turned execs at Winthrop PharmCo.

No doubt to sell them a multi-million-dollar package of the new nanopore microscopes his company is producing from an exclusive patent he secured last year.

“Whatever.” He shakes his head. “You may not have enjoyed the company of the ladies in school, but you sure enjoyed the company of Johnnie Walker.”

I swallow, setting my mug down on the walnut surface of my desk where Giovanni pokes at my name placard.

Father Martin Louis, Headmaster.

“Goodbye, Father Martin.” A singsong voice drifts in from the open door as a young woman in a plaid skirt flicks a finger wave my way, drawing Giovanni’s eyes.

She flutters her lashes with a teasing arch of her back.

“Goodbye, Fawn,” I say, my voice flat.

Giovanni watches the doorway as she disappears. “Damn, how do you keep your dick in your pants?”

Truth is, all I feel is relief. Fawn is the last of my charges to leave the dormitory before the renovations begin. I’ll have two to three months without the burden of watching over a flock of black sheep sent here by parents hoping for a miracle.

I raise my eyebrows. “You know why.”

Giovanni was my roommate in freshman year at Regent Overton University where we were both majoring in chemistry by day and mayhem by night. Drinking and fighting, trying to shed the academic nerd cloak that most that take on our scientific interests are forced to wear.

Out of everyone in the world, I’m closest to him but that’s not saying much.

“Besides,” I continue, “most of them would get you a one-way ticket to the sex offender registry. That doesn’t deter most of them, mind you. Last Tuesday, that one showed up for her last assessment session commando. How do I know? Because she sat right where you are now, toes together, knees spread, leaning back showing me what God gave her. Wanted me to give her a five-star review for the final report I was sending to her parents.”

“Damn… Did it work?”

“Did it fuck. I wrote a six-page oratory of her offenses while she was here. No amount of consequences or encouragement moved her. She knows the power of what she has between her legs, at least on most men, and she will undoubtedly continue to use it to her advantage.”

They all try to use what they have to get what they want. But I’m not buying what they are selling.

I reach down and slide open the bottom drawer on the century old carved desk and pull out a bottle of blue label Johnnie, unscrewing the cap before adding a short pour into both our coffee mugs.

“I never did understand when you went in this direction. I mean, damn, stuck here in the middle of Nowheresville, Maine? I’d go stir crazy. Still, your job has its perks. Legal or not.”

“There’s nothing about them that perks me,” I bite back, thinking of all the sneaking lies they try to put past me and my staff. All the tricks and snide remarks they think I don’t know about. The marijuana and booze I’ve confiscated over the years and the occasional boyfriend I throw out the front door after he’s snuck into the dorm.

They offer their fake smiles and fluttering lashes when they are caught. Dropping to their knees, eyes up, hands pressed together, mouths open. Please, Father Martin, I’ll do anything...

Little do they know, I abhor them and no offer of their sexual collateral makes my blood flow hot.

“Your track record with the fairer sex has been fucked, you have every right to be salty. I guess you found your calling.”

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Advertisement Step-Santa (Wanting What’s Wrong #7) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-santa-wanting-whats-wrong-7-read-online-dani-wyatt Mon, 01 Jan 2024 09:40:31 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-santa-wanting-whats-wrong-7-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Mafia, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >47

When an off-limits temptation in a pink tutu shows up at my snowy compound calling me Papa looking for protection, she has no idea what kind of gift I’ve been saving just for her.

Running my billion-dollar underworld business in secret from the icy north has kept me safe and should have done the same for my family. But, when tragedy destroys my step-granddaughter Carina’s world, I become her steward. The one she trusts above all. With her living under my roof, keeping my obsessive desires hidden behind the doors of my workshop becomes impossible. My resolve is breaking. She’s over eighteen but as temping as sugar plums and as innocent as turtle doves. When I don my Santa suit for our annual holiday party, she whispers secret wishes in my ear and what I give her has her bouncing on my lap begging for more. Only, there’s danger lurking behind the twinkling lights and I’ll risk everything to make her mine. And mine she will be. Forever.

Author's Note: He may have white hair and a beard, but this sexy silver fox Santa will be doing more than coming down his step-granddaughter’s chimney this Christmas! He’s spent the last few years raising Carina when the Maestro crime family took her parents from her. The holidays heat up when they get tangled in the tinsel and she figures out just how Santa plans to deliver a very special gift to his favorite good girl.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Gennero

Of all my secrets and sins, there is only one that keeps me up at night.

And it’s dancing in pink leotards under the stage lights while I fist my pulsing erection in the back of the auditorium.

Carina Sophia Margarita Sabaro.

She’s a miracle. And my granddaughter. Step-granddaughter. And she’s eighteen, as though that makes me any less of a sinner.

I make the sign of the cross over my chest with my left hand, because my right one has a chokehold on my dick right now.

There’s no part of my dirty soul does not know these feelings are wrong. She’s been mine to raise for the last three years. She is my charge. I am her steward.

I should not do the things I do. Think the things I think.

Worrying about being on the right side of anything never bothered me before her. My entire life was built on wrong; and in my heart, nothing has ever felt more right than when I watch her dance. Or laugh. Or sew. Or read her smutty books. Or curse like a black-hearted soldier in my underworld army.

With her every fucking breath, my life changes.

High notes of Tchaikovsky spin in the log rafters with the morning sun coming in streaks through the skylights. The music twists around the wrought-iron chandeliers decorated with evergreen and red bows and cascades in luminous echoes throughout the hundred-seat auditorium I built just to watch her dance on stage.

For me.

The music toils along with my conscience as she spins on pointe, dipping her hands to the floor and then sweeping them upward, raising her chest like a thread of silk caught in a summer breeze. When her toe moves up to the sky, my cock does the same. She is an angel incarnate, sent to make me pay for my years of sin and depravity. The one thing in my life I desire more than anything else is untouchable.

Off limits.

The scent of evergreen and cinnamon from the fourteen decorated trees that line the back of the stage does nothing to cover the memory of the vanilla and sugar custom French shampoo I order especially for her that she used this morning in the shower.

I know because I watched her. I smelled her.

On the eve of her eighteenth birthday under the guise of updating her en-suite bathroom as a birthday gift, I had a crew gut the space, re-building it into a shrine of marble and glass along with installing a two-way mirror and a small vent with a fan that feeds me her scent as I watch her in depraved silence behind the glass.

God help me, I cannot stop.

It was a year ago when my desire dug its claws into me and refused to yield any longer. I succumbed at last to the weakness born inside of me by her now womanly curves and budding breasts. The fire-colored highlights in her auburn hair. The way her honey-brown eyes turned sensual and that V between her legs beckoned for my touch.

God, forgive me for the things I’ve done and the things I’ve yet to do.

She’s known me as nothing but Papa since she was six years old and her mother married my son. As in most marriages in my family, it was a business partnership devoid of love.

That emotion does not belong in my world. Nor in the world in which I live.

All those years ago, she stunned me into silence the first time we met with her sniffly nose and defiant golden eyes. She stirred my soul, but not in the way she does now. As a child, my feelings for her were not those of a lusty old man. Children do not interest me in that way. I’ve had the privilege of dismembering and de-balling a few lechers that preyed on the innocent over the years.

I break many laws, but some are sacrosanct.

I knew I would protect my granddaughter and guard her with my life. I would turn the seas red with the blood of anyone who brought a tear to her eye. Nothing had come close to what she spun inside me, not even when my own son was born.

I had ice in my veins.

As it happened, I knew her only for a few short years before I spent a decade behind bars. From there, I made a deal with those who wished me and mine dead. I would retreat to the north, abdicate my throne to my son and disappear into the frozen ether.

And for this, my family would be spared any wrath from rival families that should be directed toward me.

But, truces are fragile and promises are mere words washed away by lust and greed and blood.

Carina spins, her head whipping around as she goes faster, then raises a leg, her knee to her chin ending on a soft plie and my erection stiffens as I work it in the darkness, encircling the greedy length with rough fingers and a depraved mind.

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Advertisement Step-Savage (Wanting What’s Wrong #6) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-savage-wanting-whats-wrong-6-read-online-dani-wyatt Thu, 07 Dec 2023 05:54:59 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-savage-wanting-whats-wrong-6-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Sports, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Believe it or not, being a pregnant twenty-year-old virgin is not as biblical as it sounds.Doing the world’s biggest favor for my rich best friend in exchange for some serious coin was supposed to launch my dream of becoming the next darling of Nashville.Only, it all turned into a giant dumpster fire and while I’m trying to stomp out the flames, my dad calls to let me know he’s back from his cruise. And he’s married.Now, I have a new stepbrother, the star of the Spokane Savages hockey team and the very definition of trouble, with smoldering eyes that make you want to drop your panties and spell out your name on his six pack with your tongue.Before I know it, he’s onto the secret I’ve been hiding under my oversized hoodies and stretch pants and let’s just say, he’s found his new kink. We shouldn’t want each other but when the ice between us starts to melt, I learn exactly how to handle my hockey-star stepbrother’s big stick.Only when I open a mysterious envelope, life gives me one more twist. I either need to run and never look back or go all in and pray for the hat trick of a lifetime.Author’s This icy hunk of a hero gets one look at his sprite of a stepsister and he’s ready to score. He leans in hard to his stalker side with cameras in her house and a tracker under her skin, but what he finds out turns his world upside down. There are some details to sort out, but he can’t keep his hands off the one thing he shouldn’t want. Never fear, it all gets wrapped up with a pretty happily ever after bow and an ending you didn’t see coming.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Nancy

Corn mazes are the worst, aren’t they?

The. Worst.

Who takes a kid to a corn maze and leaves them because it’s a learning experience? My dad, that’s who. He’s a retired Marine, so there’s that. He always said it teaches you how to figure your way out of impossible situations but it doesn’t. Because if it did, I wouldn’t be sitting here six and a half months pregnant without a father in sight.

Still, I’d take being lost in a four-acre corn maze right now over this. A thousand acres.

I’m pretty sure my yearly October corn maze lessons are not what I should be thinking about right now, but it is October and the entry to Killberry, Ruterman and Roth, Attorneys at Law, was decorated with pumpkins and cornstalks—as if anyone walking into a legal office needs to be reminded of the warmth of harvest season.

Taylor meows as tears swell in my best friend Mason’s eyes as he glances at the cat carrier on the floor between us. Mr. Ruterman puts little effort into hiding his eye roll when Mason swipes away a tear.

This will be the last time Mason and Taylor will be together for a long while. Let them have this.

I force indifference onto my face because any other emotion right now feels dangerous.

Ruterman huffs, tapping his pen on the table from his place across from me. The room is roasting and the black hoodie I’m wearing is getting damp with sweat as the attorney starts to talk. “In exchange for Mr. Reid’s full confession and guilty plea in the criminal proceedings, and all assets being split among the plaintiffs in the civil case, no charges will be brought against you, Ms. Rochet. I suggest you sign the deal before the DA changes her mind.”

The pruned-up attorney shoves a stack of papers over the gleaming mahogany conference table while Mason looks at me with eyes so filled with apology, it takes all my will to barricade the sob that threatens to retch from my chest.

“But I didn’t do anything,” I mutter, worrying my hands in my lap below my growing belly bump as the white-haired head of Mason’s defense team smacks his lips, wiggling his index finger in his ear. “I was his personal assistant. I ran errands and took care of his cat. I know nothing about his business. I’d never heard of a Ponzi scheme before all this. I didn’t know anything about…anything.”

I swing my hand over the papers in front of me as Mason sniffs and coughs,

“She’s telling the truth.” Mason starts his voice cracking, “But, don’t change anything.” He lifts his head to look my way. “This is what I want. Give me this, it’s all I have left. You, Taylor and the baby are all I have left.”

Baby.

Not his. Not really. But sort of.

In the span of twenty minutes, I’ve signed the deal and now I have nowhere to go with a baby in my belly and a cat my friend may never see again. My friend will go to jail and he will no longer be a father to the baby he so desperately wanted.

God, how did I end up here?

Through a corn maze, probably.

Mason and I hug and cry like babies. There is nothing left to say. When the meeting ends and it’s time for us to go to different paths, we hug once more.

“Remember me when you’re famous,” he says, laughing through the tears. He’s a monster of a man, but a complete Teddy Bear and I worry about how he will fare in prison.

“I can’t do this,” I tell him, clinging to his arm. He’s my best friend, and he’s making jokes about my silly dreams of being the next darling of Nashville when he’s about to be carted off to the federal pen?

“When I get out, I expect you to be singing to sellout crowds. Big ones.”

I press my knuckles to my temples. “Might be difficult since I don’t like to sing in front of anyone let alone a crowd.”

“Maybe you could turn your back like you do in your videos? Might be the next big thing.”

“Oh yeah, I could be the female Orville Peck.” I try to give it back with a little sass, but this doesn’t feel like the time. “Please tell me this is all some big joke and we can go home and eat pizza?”

“I have to go, Nancy. Promise you’ll take care of yourself and he baby and you’ll come visit me and tell me everything?”

I nod. “Of course. Try to keep me away.”

As his attorney leads him through the frosted glass doors and down the hall to the waiting car that will deliver him to a ten-year sentence in a federal prison, I run to the closest garbage can and throw up.

Vomiting has become a close friend, although it’s lessened in the second trimester which was an epic relief. I stuff the stack of paperwork into my backpack as Leslie, the prune’s secretary—excuse me, administrative assistant—comes through the door looking sympathetic and yet bored. She’s got the world’s best smile-frown I’ve ever seen.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >57

Advertisement Step-Farmer (Wanting What’s Wrong #5) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-farmer-wanting-whats-wrong-5-read-online-dani-wyatt Tue, 08 Aug 2023 17:46:09 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-farmer-wanting-whats-wrong-5-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Novella, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

I’ve been her guardian for a decade. What I am now should send me to hell.

I never thought my solitary life on my farm was lonely. I swore off women long ago, so children were never on my radar. But when the big city attorney showed up in a limousine with Ruby in the backseat, hugging a Louis Vuitton teddy bear, I knew my simple, small-town life would never be the same.

As the years passed, we worked the farm side by side, her life of luxury long forgotten. Her eighteenth birthday has come and gone, and my feelings have turned sinful. Out in the open, she calls me Eli, but alone in her room at night, she calls me Daddy. Her sweet smile and feminine curves call to me in ways I can no longer ignore.

I fear one day she will want that life back. She will spread her wings and try to fly away from here. From me. But when the forbidden fire between us ignites, there’s no turning back. I will do whatever it takes to bind her to me here forever before she finds out the truth.

Whatever. It. Takes.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Ruby

Uncle Eli would not be happy right now.

And more and more, all I want to do is make him happy. In ways I know I shouldn’t.

He’s a quarter mile away in the east dairy barn, the sky a warm pink and orange above the spinning metal cupola as the sun brushes lower in the fluffy clouds above. From my place on the window bench Eli built for me just after I arrived here, to my new life a decade ago, I focus on the burlap-covered bulletin board that’s stuck with photos, ribbons and other tokens of the last ten years.

At the bottom, yellowed newspaper clippings about the disappearance of Reginald Morton, millionaire playboy and businessman, who was lost in the Amazon Rainforest when a treasure hunt turned into tragedy, seem a sad footnote to my life now.

Reginald was my father. What happened to his presumed millions, no one knows for sure, but the newspapers stories and other investigators so much as told us my father’s so called ‘empire’ was really just a house of cards. A shell game. And in the end, there was no money, only debt for which he paid with his life.

Over the years, I stopped caring about finding out the truth. My life here on the farm isn’t limousines and Louboutins, but you can’t plow the field with a limo and you certainly can’t work the farm in Louboutins, but I love my clogs and the 1967 rusty Chevy truck Eli rebuilt for me for my sixteenth birthday.

It’s not Park Avenue but I’d rather have a poor, rural farmer for a dad than a rich, dead playboy.

I press a finger to my lips, urging Marcy to shush as her voice rises.

“I’m eighteen. I can have sex six ways ‘til Sunday and twice on Tuesday with whoever I want!”

She sits crossed-legged on the antique quilt that covers my bed, applying tiny white polka-dots to the tips of her jet-black nails with the head of a pin.

“My parents can’t forbid me from seeing David any more than they can forbid me from having the baby.”

I can feel the heat on my face, part embarrassment and part annoyance on my uncle’s behalf.

It’s not that Eli thinks sex is bad. Or shameful. At least, he’s never said so much. But, I remember he and my dad talking when I was little, before I came here to live. We always spent holidays together and I remember my dad prodding Eli for information on his female conquests. My dad seemed to love to share that sort of thing, but Eli?

Not so much.

I’d usually be hiding around the corner or in a closet, always hanging on every minute and word with my handsome Uncle Eli, who seemed so mysterious and strong with his patched up blue jeans and snap up plaid shirts. When my dad was into the whiskey the conversations would turn less…family friendly and there would be talk of things a little girl shouldn’t hear. Back then my grandfather and grandmother were still around as well, but as farmers do, they were early to bed and early to rise, so they missed out on a lot of the less savory conversations.

Eli was sort of adopted by my grandfather, but they weren’t related. Not by blood, anyway.

Eli’s mom married my grandfather after his first wife, my dad’s mom, passed away. Then Eli’s mother ran off with a traveling salesman and was never heard from again, but my grandfather still cared about his stepson.

I think he would have happily kept Eli around, but when he remarried again his mom’s father Dennis asked to have him to help out on the farm here in Mumford.

Uncle Eli stayed with his own grandfather after that, but my grandpa was his only sort of father figure and he was always just Uncle Eli to me. Grandpa Norman, my father’s father, always made it a point to make Eli feel just like family, step or not. Grandpa was a good man. Worked hard. Had his own farm and went to church holding hands with Grandma Ginny every Sunday until she passed away when I was six.

He gave away extra food from his crops when he could. Never uttered a bad word about anyone as far as I can remember, and as I got older, I sort of wondered how my father fell so far from the tree.

But, those nights when dad was into the drink and pushing Eli to spill about women or sex or whatever, all he would ever say was they were all cheaters and liars and he wanted nothing to do with them. It made me sad, even as a little girl, that he felt that way. But deep inside, shameful as it was, I was happy he didn’t have someone in his life.

A little girl crushing on her tall, dark and handsome uncle was perfectly normal, right?

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

Advertisement Step-Boss (Wanting What’s Wrong #4) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-boss-wanting-whats-wrong-4-read-online-dani-wyatt Sun, 11 Jun 2023 19:42:03 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-boss-wanting-whats-wrong-4-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

I suck at my job, but I love my grumpy boss.

Cade Jamison is CEO of the most powerful talent agency in the country. He’s the poster child for bad-boy-billionaires everywhere with his inked arms and ice-blue eyes that make me stumble and stutter whenever he’s close.

I still live under his roof, and it’s wrong to want him the way I do. To him, I’m just the chubby, awkward obligation that came with a marriage to my mother. Now that I’m nineteen, the commitment he made years ago is ending but if I can land an A-list client, maybe he’ll keep me around.

When my plan goes sideways, he turns downright feral and commits several felonies to protect what’s his. The lines of our former relationship blur as the vortex of forbidden forces burns between us.

Social media videos of the incident explode, so Cade whisks us away to the small town where he grew up. Once there, he demands all of me, including my secrets. But, if I confess what I’ve done, he’ll never forgive me. And, the worst part is...I’m not the only one who knows what I’m hiding. But, it turns out, he’s hiding something too.

Author’s Note: This step-Daddy story will have you melting in the small-town summer sunshine when this obsessed hero takes control. It’s safe, no cheating, with all the over-the-top liquid love you’ve come to expect!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Lennie

Cade Jamison paces like a general ordering his troops into battle.

Only, what I’m imagining, is him pacing in front of me, ordering me down on all fours as he slips his belt from the loops on his perfectly tailored black slacks then…

“This is not a fucking party,” he seethes, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it shakes the room.

And me. Down into the gooiest parts of my core.

He scans the agents lined against the glass block wall with his most annoyed glare. It’s a look I know well. But that doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about every inch of his six foot four frame darkening my bedroom doorway at night. Giving in to the secret passion I imagine he has been harboring but too guilt ridden to act upon.

Or, is that me?

Minus the six feet four inches.

His impeccable black tuxedo contrasts with his unruly deep golden beard and slicked back hair. The colors of his painted body and arms are only visible on his neck and the backs of his hands. But I’ve memorized every swoop and letter of those colors that cover his body.

I’ve watched in awe for years when he’s in the pool at the house, or walking around without a shirt. I have even snuck pictures of him to fuel my lusty fumblings under my sheets in the darkness while clouds of guilt hover above.

In the last few months, as my fear that he’ll ask me to leave has grown, I’ve fought a daily battle against sneaking in the smallest of physical contact with him. A battle I’ve lost every time.

A brush of my arm against his as he helps me unload the dishwasher. Letting my fingers linger on his when he passes me my cup of tea in the morning. Every second, every contact lights me up while simultaneously my self-loathing grows. I want my stepfather.

It consumes my every thought.

“Tonight is not for celebrating.” He glares at them, shaking his head. “It is for finding and fighting for opportunities. Opportunities that only come on nights like these.”

A new agent to my left raises her hand and there’s a collective cringe from the other ten of us lined up against the brick wall of the mega-mansion overlooking the valley with the thumping of music coming from where Usher is performing on the lower deck above the infinity pool.

I don’t know her name. And if she’s going to interrupt my stepfather, I probably never will.

“But—” she starts as the group collectively takes a sharp breath, chins dropping, eyes lowered, looking anywhere but at the train wreck about to happen. “A lot of us worked hard to get our clients here tonight, don’t you think it would be appropriate for us to be able to celebrate with them? A little fun might be good for us.”

“You’re fired.” Cade grunts, staring down at his phone in one hand and pointing to the glass door to his left with the other.

She laughs, looking around at the rest of us like we might do the same.

We won’t.

I wasn’t even there for the ceremony. Cade had me brought right here to the after party because I begged him to. I don’t like crowds and he knows it. He looked at me like I’d grown two heads when I asked to come here, but there’s a reason I wanted to be here and it’s the only thing keeping me from breaking down right now.

Impressing him. It’s all I want. I have to hold it together so I can do what needs to be done.

“If I turn around and you are still here, I’ll make sure no other agency will hire you again. Not even in fucking West Virginia where they peddle pageant girls to trade shows.”

I glace to my right as Davis, Cade’s best friend and partner as well as my mentor, gives her a thin smile and urges her toward the door with a flick of his head. Everyone in this room has a love-hate relationship with my stepfather.

Except me. I’m zero hate and all love.

I won’t say I was immediately in love with him the day my mother introduced us. That was after a Little White Chapel Vegas elopement, and I wasn’t dialed in beforehand. But, the next day, as my mom slept off the bottles of three-hundred-dollar wine from the night before, he made me scrambled eggs and rye toast wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a white t-shirt. He didn’t have his cook make the breakfast, he did it himself. And those were the best scrambled eggs ever made in the history of scrambled eggs.

As I stared all around the palatial opulence of what would be my new home, I knew I was in trouble. In love with my mother’s new husband. And from that moment, the guilt has blinded me and laid next to me in bed every night whispering in my ear what a horrible daughter I am.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

Advertisement Step-Baller (Wanting What’s Wrong #3) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-baller-wanting-whats-wrong-3-read-online-dani-wyatt Mon, 01 May 2023 20:22:11 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-baller-wanting-whats-wrong-3-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Erotic, Novella, Sports, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >40

When Mina remembers I'm her grumpy stepbrother and not her boyfriend...things are gonna get complicated.

The day she stepped into my life with her sad, emerald eyes and a backpack full of Barbies in miniature couture dresses, I knew I would protect her forever. Now she's eighteen, I'm on the cusp of my NFL career, and being her silent protector has turned into something else.

Hard as it's been, I've done the right thing and kept my distance. But when she loses her memory, I do the unthinkable. Not only do I pretend I'm her boyfriend, I insist she calls me Daddy, and shocker, she's all in . My last shred of control snaps when she falls to her knees at my feet, and there's no going back.

What I'm doing could ruin my career and bring down our entire family. Why doesn't that seem to matter? Oh, I know...because I would risk it all for the chance at a happy ending.

With her.

Author's Note: This is off-limits love, swirled with some short-term amnesia and smoking hot Daddy play. If you are down with a hunky football hero letting his obsession flag fly high for his curvy stepsister, then climb aboard! You'll need some cool Gatorade and a confessional when you're done, but it's all in good consensual fun, right? Safe, no cheating, with two first-timers and a happily ever after for the win!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Mina

Finding the exact color of Malachite green in a hidden seam zipper was like riding that perfect wave.

That was a miracle in the little fabric store here in Harbor Shores. When I stepped out into the summer sunshine, with the sound of the seagulls overhead and the scent of the lake breeze in the air, all was right with the world.

Then I skipped right into Cindy Hilton and her entourage.

Buzz. Killed. My perfect mood evaporates like a drop of water on a scorching pan.

Why the zipper matters, I’m not sure, since there’s no way I can get to New York for the design competition next week. But apparently I’m functioning under the delusion there’s some magic solution that will drop out of thin air and make my dreams come true.

Since I was five, I’ve been making clothes. It started with a simple, tied together terrycloth robe made from an old washcloth for my teddy bear Theo. By the time I was six, I was whipping together some high-end runway level creations for my Barbies. The creative obsession rooted deep and I’ve been lost in fantasies of New York Fashion Week ever since.

My personal style is a far cry from my design aesthetic. I’m more preppy Tomboy with a splash of Minnie Mouse, but it’s how I’m comfortable and every girl deserves a little comfort wherever she can find it.

Creating beautiful clothes has been my dream since those first ratty robes, so when I heard about this contest for the best new designer, strictly age 18-21, put on by Marie Claire magazine I couldn’t help myself. With the help of my best friend at Chatsbury, Rosaria Sweeting, whose father is a general or something in the Bahamian military making her practically royalty. She helped me put together a mini collection and I entered, but I never, ever thought I’d earn a spot.

Except, I did.

Now, I have no way to get to the contest next week and no way my mom or Allen would let me go anyway. They have me on a fast track to being a corporate attorney. I’m going to pre-law at University of Michigan, Go Blue, my stepfather’s alma mater, in the fall.

They silently tolerate my stacks of fabric and my little ‘hobby’ sewing room back at our house in Oakland Heights. My parents are fine, don’t get me wrong. I love them and they love me. Allen is hardheaded; he’s tried to toughen me up over the years but my creamy, marshmallow center, in more ways than one, has remained squishy despite his best efforts. As an ex-NFL quarterback himself, I understand that mindset just goes with the territory.

The only thing about the law that suits me, is that I’m an obsessive rule follower. The idea of breaking a rule or, God forbid, getting arrested, sends me into palpitations. I’ve never turned in an assignment late. The lowest grade I’ve ever gotten on a report card is an A minus, in health sciences for heck-sake. Which, I still believe to this day is because the teacher, Mr. Gottfried, had a vendetta against our family because Allen’s team kicked the pants off his home state team in some Super Bowl a zillion years ago.

Who.

Cares.

I got good grades, yes, but I’m not the smartest egg in the carton. It’s more that the idea of disappointing anyone and not doing my best, best, best is feels unforgivable. So I worked my fingers raw and studied harder than humanly possible to be sure my report cards were impeccable.

“Wilhelmina?” Cindy chirps, always using the whole of my name like she’s my grandmother. “I heard your family sold their place. Didn’t think we’d see you this summer. Or Jackson. How is Jackson, by the way? I saw him interviewed on Sport Center yesterday. Is he around?” Her blazing white smile makes me wish I’d opted for my Hello Kitty sunglasses as she scans the area for my stepbrother.

Everyone loves Jackson. Sure, I get it. He is the all-American guy with the edge of a sexy bad boy in a combo so potent, so good looking, if you manage to tear your eyes away, he’s somehow still there. Taunting you from behind your lids like you’ve looked at the sun a second too long.

He’s also a bit of an ass, like his father, to everyone that is not family, which, somehow, makes him more attractive.

“No, he’s not here,” I manage, watching her enthusiasm deflate and hating myself for just existing in her presence—then hating myself more for hating myself. Ugg, it’s such a vicious cycle.

I grip the top of the paper bag in my left hand while tugging on the lace trim of my blouse and shifting my weight from one foot to the next like a six-year-old.

I summon my courage, I need to stop being so cowering. That’s what Jackson always says. He says I am as good as anyone else and I don’t need to live small.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >40

Advertisement Step-Bully (Wanting What’s Wrong #2) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-bully-wanting-whats-wrong-2-read-online-dani-wyatt Mon, 13 Feb 2023 18:42:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-bully-wanting-whats-wrong-2-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt 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)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

You never know who your enemy is, until they are sitting at your dinner table.

Lula Reynolds has her hands full. Between her sick father, their failing scrapyard and an online bully, she’s ready to leave her dream of singing to sold out crowds behind, pack a bag and start a Tiki bar in Bora Bora.

When things couldn’t get worse, her mother blows into town on the arm of a highly skeezy new step-father whose bad-boy son is a level ten jerk. But he’s also got killer eyes and hands that make her body sing.

For Scotch Morrison, crushing the competition with shady deals and black-hat tactics is business 101. So, when his father brings home wife number five, he has no interest in getting attached. Only, his shiny new step-mother comes with baggage in the form of an eighteen year old daughter with curves for days and a take-no-crap attitude who changes everything.

It’s not long before the heat in the step-kitchen boils over, and Scotch decides Lula is more than just a nuisance. She’s his. To have. To hold.

And…to knock-up.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

LULA

I’ve been known to take the full 400mg dosage of Advil sometimes. I’m not proud of it, but desperate times and all that.

Right now, I’m ready to take another dose and it hasn’t even been six hours.

Turning to anti-inflammatories is not my usual coping mechanism, but today is special.

So, so special. I’m meeting my mother’s new husband. At his strip club. One of three he owns.

“Stop staring at your phone,” my mother chirps in that raspy, squeaky urgent tone she gets when she’s trying to impress people and she thinks I’m ruining the vibe. “Mingle. I’ll introduce you to Larry as soon as the time feels right. You and your social media. You singing on TikTok again? For what?”

“It’s for work, mother. I’m posting on Facebook Marketplace for the scrapyard.”

That only makes the sour twist of her lips more intense. “I mean, who cares about a scrapyard on Facebook?” She waves at someone across the room and gives me that nervous half smile she gets when she’s trying to cover something up.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the hundred or more people that have found us because of Facebook. Scrapping’s a big thing on Facebook. Lots of scrappers out there and I want them coming to Z’s Scrap all day long.”

I grew up helping my dad run the business. Z’s Scrap is a third generation venture. It’s ‘Z’s instead of Zdzinski’s since no one seems to be able to spell or pronounce my father’s family name. It’s messy and hard and hot in the summer and freezing in the winter, but it’s his baby. Well, his other baby besides me. And since Mom bailed on him and his blue-collar ambitions, she’s lost her baby status as well. Only problem is, running the yard includes long hours, lots of coffee, stress and junk food and my dad had a heart attack two months ago and I almost lost him.

One quadruple bypass later, he’s on 24/7 oxygen and a crap ton of home health, meds and rehab, but he’s stable, thank God. I’ve had to take the helm at the yard and any ideas of jumping in my beige 1999 Buick and heading to Nashville to be the next Taylor Swift are on permanent hiatus. Instead, I’m working every strategy in my arsenal to try to save what I now know is a business on the downslope of solvency.

Losing the yard would be the death nail for my father. That, and losing me. My singing dreams are secondary to keeping my father alive and that right now includes getting his business back in the black.

Mom makes a raspberry sound. “Well, whatever you’re doing is only encouraging him. He should just sell that place. It was always trashy, barely paid the bills. It’s going to bring you down too. Get out as fast as you can, convince your dad to move on, for goodness’ sake.”

I leave that subject on the sticky floor for now, just grateful my dad is getting stronger and I’m handling things the best I can. My mom can go pound rocks. When she left, I went back and forth for a year or so, but in the end, I think she wanted her space so when I made the decision to be with Dad full time, it went over better than I’d planned. She had one condition, which was she wanted me to change my name to Laurence, which is her maiden name, from my father’s Zdzinski. She always hated his last name and truth was, I sort of wanted the switch.

Not because I didn’t like the name, but if I was going to be a star, well, Lula Zdzinski didn’t really have the same ring to it that Lula Laurence did. So, Dad agreed, wanting my dreams to come true and Mom did the paperwork and as far as the law is concerned, I’m Lula Laurence now.

“Don’t worry, Diedre,” I say. She hates when I use her first name, but right now, I think she’s earned a little rebellion. “I’ll be waiting right here when my new Daddy is ready.” I jab my index finger to the tabletop and release a dramatic exhale, keeping my eyes pinned to my most recent TikTok of me singing Lovestory with my signature slower, sultry style which is already up to 40K views in just a few hours. “There’s no where else I’d rather be than right here.”

“Stop that sarcasm. You know I hate that. It’s trashy.”

I’m not sure my mother’s version of trashy and the world’s version are the same. She taps a crystal-encrusted white fingernail on her matching blazing white teeth. Her white-on-white cheetah print jumpsuit is clinging to her like desperation, but I will say, she’s got the body of Heidi Klum with a high-end boob job.

A boob job she’s still paying off in installments. Zero percent interest though, so, that’s a plus.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

Advertisement Step-Hero (Wanting What’s Wrong #1) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.books2020.com/step-hero-wanting-whats-wrong-1-read-online-dani-wyatt Wed, 26 Oct 2022 19:49:54 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/step-hero-wanting-whats-wrong-1-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >58

When my stepsister waves at me from across the tarmac, I know I’m done waiting.
She’s been mine for years, in a way. Since the day our lives came together and I became her protector. Her guardian. Her rock.
She’s fierce and independent. Strong but soft. Willful but needy.
She deserves more than me—more than a broken soldier with two years of memories fit for nightmares.
When she smiles at me with those plump, pink lips, I can’t ignore my feelings anymore. I want to tie her to the bed as she screams my name. I want to smack that asset of hers, feeling the warmth of her skin on my hand.
I’ll choose if she breathes, what color panties she wears, if I let her wear them at all. I'm following my heart because it’s been broken for too long and she’s the only one that can fix me.
But, I need to protect her against one final enemy. Or else a dark, dangerous secret will steal my light from me forever.

Author’s Note: This homecoming is filled with dirty talk and forbidden fruit. It’s a love story with over-the-knee action and plenty of other hot lessons. This soldier is going to fill his one and only from top to bottom with all the happy endings you could hope for. It’s safe, no cheating, with double V-cards to boot!

Wanting What’s Wrong Series: Step right up if you want to get down with some "No, no, we can't, it's so wrong." action! There are step-siblings, step-fathers, step-uncles all just waiting for you. It's okay, no one will know.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Kat

Welcome to the crossroads of terrified and awe-struck.

I press myself against the floral wallpaper of the hallway, wondering in all these years why I never noticed him leave the bathroom door open before? It’s only a few inches, three at most, but it feels ominous and purposeful.

Shower steam billows out into the darkness as I stare into the reflection in the bathroom mirror, salivating over his rippling muscles. His vivid tattoos. The deep V from his abdomen to his hips.

A God’s body.

My step-brother’s body.

Holy heck-balls.

I should walk away.

I make the sign of the cross over my chest even though I can’t remember the last time I went to church, and we are Baptist. That doesn’t seem to matter, I feel the need to protect myself from impending sin.

I have to walk away, for all that is good and holy. But I can’t. I can’t take my eyes off him. The brain/body/vagina connection here is strong. It’s holding me in its clenching force field. Because I have never wanted anything the way I want him. Right. Now.

I’ve never loved anybody the way I love him, either.

The practical, reasonable parts of me say, I shouldn’t. I can’t.

But my pulsing Polly Pocket down low says, You should. You can.

The clear glass door hides nothing. He is all carved angles, and muscles, and nakedness. His hard masculine body stutters my breath. Looking at him gathers a heavy knot of tension low in my belly and between my legs. He runs his hands over his hair, down his chest, soaping every hard, broad surface, until one hand takes a trip downtown.

I stifle my gasp, squeezing my inner muscles as the flutter in my core threatens to explode.

Oh, Lord, so many sins to be forgiven…why now? Why tonight?

Tomorrow he deploys, so today has been full of heartbreaking lasts.

Our last morning jog. Well, he jogged, I rode my bike. Our last round of mini golf together. Our last trip to the grocery. My last afternoon watching him sketching in the lawn chair out back, wishing I had an ounce of his talent for artwork. Our last dinner, with all his favorites. Mom’s spaghetti and meatballs. Caesar salad. Black forest cake. And a side of mashed potatoes, too. Extra butter.

All through today, my parents have vacillated between crying and bursting with pride. My mom laugh-crying half the time, my dad so choked up he couldn’t speak. As for me, I’ve been in a daze. Because Trent is my rock. Always has been. Always will be.

Unless he doesn’t come home.

I know, in my heart, that is a real possibility. He is an elite long-range sniper for the SEALS. Hugely important, incredibly dangerous. And, as I discovered late last night, scrolling through Reddit, also a very fancy way to say dead man walking.

Today, none of us addressed that. We couldn’t. But it weighed heavily in the small, cheerful kitchen. At the dining room table. Ricocheting around the living room that’s a near copy of the one on that Archie Bunker show. An inescapable cliff of grief on the horizon.

Trent and I stayed up hours after Mom and Dad went to their room, finishing the dishes, trying to hold on to every last moment we have together. A day of lasts.

But tonight, I noticed a first. Tonight he was looking at me, watching me, in a way I’ve never noticed before. I saw it in the reflection of the window above the sink, out of the corner of my eye when I bent over to pick up a dropped fork. But every time I glanced back, his eyes would dart away.

We said goodnight a little before midnight. He opened his arms for a hug and I fell into his embrace. “Love you, Kitty Kat,” he said, like always.

I managed an, “I love you, too,” through a half-strangled sob.

Walking to my room, I focused on the way the rust-colored shag carpet felt under my feet, the way the A/C window unit hissed—anything to distract me from that hard knot in my stomach. I tossed myself face down on my bed, kicking at nothing, tears stinging my eyes, thinking of all that awaited him. So much danger. So much risk.

Had I said all I needed to say, if I never got to see him again?

Not even close.

So I pushed myself up and out of my tantrum, my heart full of things left unsaid. How I’d miss him, and how I’d pray for him every night. How I wouldn’t be the person I am without him, so he better come back safe.

I forced my knuckles against the bedroom door in three soft raps, expecting the familiar, ‘Yah, come in.’ But instead I heard nothing. Except the sound of the water running in the bathroom down the hall.

Turning, that’s when I saw it—the bathroom door, standing open several inches.

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