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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Smart. Because if Lula wasn’t looking at me like a scared bunny, I’d finish what I started.

Still, the confidence she had on stage when she sang is all but gone. Her arms wrapped around her middle as her mother slips over to give my father his own private lap dance, leaving her daughter standing alone like a fucking kitten in the middle of the freeway.

People are looking at her. Patrons and dancers. They’re whispering and laughing and I’ve fucking had it.

They want to look?

I’ll give them something to look at. My dick agrees and there’s no help for him now.

I’m as hard as a titanium rod as I walk over and take my stepsister’s hand and lead her onto the dance floor.

This is going to end badly but I don’t give a shit.

“Come on, Lula, I’m Scotch, your new brother. Fuck all of them. Let’s dance.”

CHAPTER 4

Lula

I have no idea what’s happening as Scotch’s fingers slide between mine, tugging me on the small dance floor in front of the stage where girls in pasties and barely-there thongs teeter and twirl on acrylic heels that have to be an insurance company’s nightmare.

“Wait. What—” I drag my feet, stalling trying to figure out if I’ve been dropped into an episode of the Twilight Zone or if this is really happening.

“No waiting.” His rough hand swoops up my back, claiming my cheek then my neck before it settles in that perfect spot in my lower back sending a cascade of heat and fever over my skin. His other hand grips mine, holding out to the side as we start to sway and grind…

Holy shit, he’s grinding on my hip and his grinder is hard.

He smells like a man should. It’s a scent without definition. Maybe a hint of leather, spun with fresh spicy man soap topped off with a hint of seductive spice. It’s undefinable but perfect and seems to have a direct line to the clenching between my legs.

I almost passed out on stage. It took every ounce of will to not topple over into an embarrassing lump of fear. But, as soon as I raised the microphone, closed my eyes and let the notes of the music flow through me, I disappeared.

I became Lula the star. Lula the triumphant. Lula Fierce.

Then, when the song ended and I opened my eyes, the thick of where I was darkened my momentary dream.

But, a new darkness is lighting me up right now. I’m dancing with my hot as hell stepbrother while everyone is watching, except my mother, thank God.

This is a minefield. He’s my stepbrother and if I get into something here I can’t handle, I risk screwing up this new life my mother seems to believe is her ticket to happy-land.

The bass thumps as Scotch spins me around, his hand on my back pulling me tighter and I feel his heart beating against mine. My feet are in the way, not light and feminine like the acrylic stilettos the other girls are wearing and once again, I feel like a fish on roller skates or whatever that saying is.

“Shhhh.” Scotch hisses in my ear like he hears my thoughts. “Don’t think. Just feel it. Pretend our bodies are one body, just let go and let me take you.”

Is he talking about the dance or…?

The drenched cotton between my legs is proof of my depravity. Scotch is hot as hell, the scruff along his jawline rasping against my temple as he releases his hand from my back for a moment to grab mine and lead it around the back of his neck.

“Just hold on. No one is going to laugh at my sister. Not while I’m around.”

Visions of holding on to him swirl in my mind. I imagine rocking against him as he holds me on his lap, whispering for me to just let go as I moan and he drives what I feel against my hip inside me, owning me, taking me…

“That’s it.” His voice is low and hypnotic in my ear as the thumping music wraps around me. “I feel it. You’re giving in.”

Nothing else exists in this moment except our bodies moving together. The hardness against me and the low growl I feel rumbling from Scotch’s chest.

“Good girl.”

I’m inexperienced, that’s a given, but there’s an effect those two words just had on me I cannot understand and could never have predicted. I’m melting against him, lust pulsing in every cell as I press my aching breasts against the his chest.

Manic lust rages through me. A flood gate has opened and I want to do and say things that before this moment were so foreign, they didn’t even live in my brain.

His hand at the small of my back lowers, it’s not a complete ass grab but it’s close and he shoves his hard thigh between my legs and practically mounts me on top. He’s rocking me back and forth until I see stars.


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