His Stepson Wears Lace

by Kelex

  “Eventually, men disappoint. It always happens… so, I’ve been saving up for the moment I need to get out.”

  His mother didn’t work. She lived off Anson’s income and squirreled some of it away for the day she planned to leave him. Jereme cringed at the thought. “Is that fair to Anson?”

  “I am sick and tired of the grumbling I get from you when I call you lately. It’s your father’s work, isn’t it? He’s using this distance to try and shove a wedge between us. I bet he’s been filling your head with stories about me. Lies, all of it. That snake in the grass. I knew it was a mistake letting him help with your school. He’d want something in return. He always did. Did I ever tell you about the time he…”

  Jereme moved the phone away from his ear. While his father seemed to have no problem following the ‘don’t talk shit about mom’ rule, his mother refused to follow the same rule about his dad. He could hear her babbling away… and the minute he didn’t, he moved the cell back to his ear.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  “Mm-hmmm,” he murmured. “Terrible.”

  His mother clicked her teeth, and it was then he knew he’d crossed the line.

  “You’re just like him. That man is a waste of oxygen and so are you.”

  Click.

  Jereme sighed as he pulled the phone away from his ear. He gazed at the screen for a moment before the call disappeared. Tossing the phone to his made bed, he shook his head, knowing he’d have to bow at her feet and beg forgiveness or things would progressively get worse—until she exploded. He needed to try to prevent that from happening.

  His mother was all he had.

  No… that’s not true anymore. He had his father. But their relationship felt more like two strangers trying to force closeness. His mother… she’d been there for him. For the most part.

  He slid off the bed and pulled out his overnight bag. After tossing a few things inside, he gave his tiny room a last glance before heading out into the hallway. It was a Friday afternoon, so the place was buzzing with excitement for the weekend to come.

  Parties to be had. Fucking to do.

  And here he was, running home to his mommy to beg her not to be mad at him.

  For fuck’s sake. I need to find a way to break free from her.

  * * * *

  “Well, I’ll be… you are here.”

  Anson Parker, Esq. lifted his stare to at his father’s voice. Howard Parker III stood in the open doorway, leaning on the frame and looking annoyed. Anson closed the file on his desk and tossed it on top of a stack on the corner. He had no time for whatever games his father was playing. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t be here?”

  “I got a call from the bank. Apparently, they’re under the impression that you’re gravely ill.”

  Anson sat back, frowning. “What?”

  His father entered another step and closed his office door with a heavy click. He turned… a smile playing at his lips… and it was then that Anson knew whatever was about to come out of the man’s mouth, it had something to do with Gloria.

  “That harpy of a wife you’ve got called them with some sob story about you being deathly ill, in the hospital, and in need of emergency medical care—just before she attempted to remove some funds from your individual account. Luckily, the bank manager and I play golf every other Friday. He called me, concerned. I let him know you were just fine… but I needed to walk down here and check to be sure. Maybe you’d gotten hit by a bus during lunch.”

  Anson felt rage rushing into him—but he bit his tongue, waiting for the I told you so that he knew was coming.

  “How much longer are you going to keep this farce of a marriage going, Anson?” His father took a seat across from him and grinned. “Are you going to wait until she’s picked your carcass clean?”

  “I’ll take care of my wife.”

  “Oh,” his father said, looking much too happy. “You’re doing a splendid job of that, now aren’t you?”

  Anson glared. He hated having to admit his father was right. It was a flaw in his character, one that was proving ruinous.

  “I knew the minute you came back from Vegas with a wife… and not just a wife, but a wife and her kid… I knew you’d made the mistake of a lifetime. I mean… you’ve made some loo-loos over the years, but this one? Damn, Anson. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

  Anson sighed.

  “Why you didn’t get it annulled then and there, I don’t know.” His father tilted his head. “Were you just that drunk… or is her cunt lined with gold?”

  “Get out,” he barked at his old man. “I have work to do.”

  “My name’s on the building. I’ll go where I damned well please.”

  Anson rose. “Fine. I’ll leave.” He stalked toward his office door and exited into the hallway, hearing his father laughing raucously as he strode toward the elevator. He hit the Down button, walked inside as soon as the doors opened, and watched as they closed—thankfully making that cringe-inducing laughter die out.

  He rested his head on the back of the elevator car. When he’d met Gloria in Vegas, it had been a whirlwind three-day weekend. She’d been a dream. The perfect woman. Gorgeous. Smart. Funny. She’d been everything he thought he wanted in a woman.

  In a drunken haze, he’d married her… and awoken stunned.

  But he’d had the happiest few days of his life… after a bitter break-up with the ‘right’ type of girl. The kind his father had wanted him to marry—the same boring WASP type his brother, Howard IV, had. Howie looked utterly tortured whenever she and their three point five kids were anywhere near. Anson hadn’t wanted that… a loveless marriage based on what they could bring to a marriage. He’d wanted fire. Passion. Excitement.

  Gloria had given him all those things. Plus she was the wrong kind of woman… the kind to piss off his father and send the message Anson wasn’t doing the expected. He was going to follow his own path… and be his own man.

  Only the joke had been on him.

  Twenty-nine-year-old Gloria had actually been forty-three and ten years his senior.

  And she had an eighteen-year-old kid that—surprise—moved in with them.

  At first, he’d been too infatuated to care. She was stunningly beautiful. Amazing in bed. Smart… Funny… Charismatic…

  She’d been a tornado, and he’d gotten sucked in.

  The charisma had begun to slowly fade soon after he put a ring on her finger.

  Fortunately, Jereme hadn’t come with the same drama as Gloria. He’d been quiet. Kept to himself. Appeared to do well in school, worked a part-time job, and had soon moved on to college, leaving them not long after he’d wed the boy’s mother.

  Leaving them alone.

  And allowing the fireworks.

  Gloria had gotten even worse after Jereme had left. Maybe the kid had kept her calmer.

  Damn, I could use a little calm right now.

  Anson exited the elevator just as his cell rang. After fishing it out, he eyed the screen and grimaced… Gloria. As if he needed another headache. He quickly exited the building… then answered. “Hello?”

  “I need you to transfer another thousand into my account.”

  For fuck’s sake. He worked to keep his voice even. “I just transferred you money three days ago.”

  “I’ve already spent that. I need more.”

  Anson frowned. He’d never met anyone who could piss money away like his wife could. “I transferred you two-thousand. Where did that go in three days?”

  “I had… bills to pay.”

  “What bills? I pay for everything!” Anson was reaching his limit. “Why did the bank call me?”

  “I have no idea,” she answered, but from her tone, he sensed the lie.

  “Seems I’m in the hospital and my dear devoted wife needed to get her fingers into my personal account to pay for emergency care. Sound familiar?”

  “Oh, babe… it sounds like someone was trying to steal your money. Pretending
to be your wife. I would never do that… you know that, right?”

  He took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on his temper. How he’d ended up where he was, he had no idea.

  “Well, Gloria? What is it you need more money for? Huh? Are you in trouble?”

  “I have responsibilities to take care of, Anson.”

  A non-answer. “I can’t imagine what those are.”

  “Well, perhaps if you came home on occasion and we talked, you’d understand a little more about your wife. All you do is work!”

  “You seem to enjoy the fruits of my hard labor.” He sighed and pinched his nose. “Honestly… I’m starting to wonder why we’re even married. Maybe it’s time.”

  Gloria’s tone immediately changed. “Babeeee, don’t be like that. Why don’t you come home a little early and we can have a little fun? Like old times. I’ve got the handcuffs and paddles all ready. I’ll even let you tie me up and fuck my ass tonight—right after you spank me for being such a bad girl. I know you love that.”

  A tiny sliver of need raced through him, and he hated himself for it. Sex always seemed to be her answer for every problem. At first, it had been fun—letting her use her feminine wiles to end a minor argument. She was one hell of a little seductress. But in time, the arguments had grown more heated, and the wiles had withered away.

  She coaxed him a little more. “A little one-on-one time. Alone. Naked. Remind ourselves why we’re together. Remind you just how good I can be for you. I’ll beg you, baby. Beg you to spank me harder and harder.”

  Anson closed his eyes, hating how much he wanted to spend a wicked night indulging some of his baser instincts. It was so easy to fall into that trap. She knew what he liked and seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did. But sex couldn’t be the sum total of a healthy relationship, he reminded himself—but it wasn’t sinking in. Sadly, his body was already entranced by her siren call.

  He fought off the need, no matter how alluring the thought of a real good fuck was. “You can’t use sex to fix all ills.”

  “No… you need to be here, Anson. That’s how you fix our ills. Instead of working late every damned night, you come home to your wife and you spend time with her. You make love to her. You have fun with her. Will you? No. Dammit, Anson. Why do I even bother?”

  Click.

  Anson lowered the phone before sitting on one of the benches outside.

  He knew he worked too much, but fuck, he had to just in order to keep up with her spending. The more accounts he got in, the more cases he won, the more he earned. The problem was, the more he earned, the more she spent. It was a vicious cycle.

  Maybe he did need to go home, face her, and have it out. He couldn’t claim to be perfect and not to have a role in the downfall of their marriage. Sure it had started off chaotically, but he’d really wanted to make it work.

  Just so his father could eat those words.

  He scrubbed his face, knowing it had been over for months… but he still felt the need for one last attempt before throwing up his hands and giving up.

  But there was no way he was going home until his desk was cleared. Once he’d sat for a few more minutes to clear his head, he headed up to his office to get his work life in order before heading home and trying to salvage his personal life.

  One more try… or else.

  Chapter Two

  Jereme pushed the heavy front door open before pulling his key from the lock. “Hello?”

  His voice echoed through the huge home. Jereme had wondered why his mother had been so keen for Anson to buy such a big place. After he left, it was just the two of them. The house was a McMansion filled with nothing. No love. No family. Nothing.

  After locking up behind him, Jereme crossed the granite-tiled foyer, passing the huge dining room and office, and on to the huge kitchen-slash-great room space. “Mom? I’m home!”

  Home? That house had never really felt like home. It had been a stopping point until he could leave for college. He moved back to the foyer and headed up the stairs. “Mom?”

  After dropping his bag off in his bedroom, he went to his mother and Anson’s bedroom door. He knocked a few times… “Mom?”

  No answer.

  He pushed the door ajar slightly and peeked inside. As he took a few steps in, he could smell the scent of her perfume… mixed with a more masculine scent. Jereme paused, inhaling it. He crossed the room and stopped before Anson’s dresser. Reaching for the bottle of cologne, he thought about the man who wore it.

  Anson.

  Jereme felt a little shame at the thrill of being in his stepfather’s space. His stepfather was an incredibly handsome man. Intelligent. Seemed kinder than the ones who’d come before. He brought the bottle of cologne to his nose and inhaled again. A slight sigh whispered from his lips. After spraying a bit on his neck, he put the bottle down and surveyed the other items on the dresser.

  Cufflinks. A few tie clips. A picture of Anson with his mother in happier times. His stare lingered on Anson’s handsome face before he trailed a fingertip over his stepfather’s strong jaw. Anson didn’t deserve the devastation that came at his mother’s hands, but he hadn’t been in any place to stop the forward momentum that was Hurricane Gloria.

  Pulling open a drawer, he smiled to see Anson was a briefs man, not boxers. He’d seen how fit and toned Anson was after his many morning runs… how would his stepfather look in only a pair of briefs?

  Or nothing at all?

  A thrill raced up Jereme’s spine at the thought.

  He closed the drawer and turned, seeing a piece of paper lying on the bed. Curious, he walked a little closer. A note, in his mother’s hand. Jereme knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but he couldn’t help himself. Lifting the note, he read over it…

  Anson –

  I wish you could be the man I need, but these last few months have shown me I will never be the most important thing in your life. I won’t come second to anyone or anything — least of all your work. You’ve proven time and time again where your priorities lie. I’m leaving you, Anson. I’ve found someone who puts me first.

  I’ll collect the rest of my things after I get settled.

  Gloria

  Jereme read over the note again, shocked… yet not shocked. Of course she’d had another man in the ready, waiting in the wings. He’d already guessed that…

  But where did that leave him? Jereme had been ready to drop everything and move home… to take care of her.

  Or did I just need an excuse to leave?

  He wasn’t ready to consider those thoughts. After lowering the note back to the bed, he walked over to his mother’s closet, wondering how much she’d left behind. When he’d been younger, he’d often dressed in her clothes when she wasn’t home, loving the feel of the soft, silky fabrics against his skin. It had been years since he’d invaded her closet… and he was excited to see she’d left behind most of her clothes. Jereme started looking through her dresses, his heart beating a little faster.

  He took a silk gown down and rubbed the material against his cheek. Turning to the floor-length mirror, he put the gown in front of him and imagined himself wearing it. A smile played over his face as he spied his reflection. Heat spread through his body at the thought of wearing it.

  Jereme scanned the wall of shoes, purses, scarves… and realized her closet was as big as his dorm room. Maybe bigger. Anson spoiled her. Rotten.

  What am I saying? She was rotten well before Anson met her.

  When Jereme got to her lingerie dresser, he felt himself stirring. He trailed his fingers over the satins, lace, and silks inside the first two drawers. He remembered borrowing some of those, too—many years before. And how his mother had once caught him… dragged him in front of his previous stepfather, who’d beaten his ass until it was raw… and then she’d berated him for years afterwards. She still did on occasion.

  He’d been too ashamed to dress up again. Jereme kept those thoughts inside his fantasies, deep where no one else cou
ld find them.

  A gift box rested inside the last drawer. Curious, he lifted it out and saw a card attached.

  Something beautiful for my something beautiful.

  A gift from Anson. Jereme felt an instant pang of jealousy and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Anson would ever buy him beautiful things. He trailed a finger over the masculine script on the card before he lifted the lid. Inside, was a stunning set of lingerie. When he lifted the black bustier out of the box, he saw the tag still hanging on it. Inside the box were matching panties, garters, and silk stockings.

  Never worn.

  A gift forgotten.

  A thought began to spiral in his mind.

  Mom’s gone. She said Anson works late every night… until ten at least. He gazed at his phone. It was only six. He had time to try it on and no one would be the wiser.

  Fear slammed into him. The last time he’d cross-dressed, he’d been caught. Yet seeing those pieces, ignored and left behind—he needed to feel them against his skin. After quickly peeling off his clothes, he pulled on the panties first.

  The silk glided over his skin as he drew them up his legs. He wished he had time for a bath where he could shave and truly feel the softness against his bare flesh, but it would have to do. Once on, he looked at himself in the mirror. They didn’t fit all too well over his burgeoning cock, but the feel still brought a shiver up his spine. He ran a hand over his hardening shaft. It pressed painfully against the silky material, the head already beading pre-cum and wetting the fabric.

  It was then that he knew he’d take the panties… maybe all of the outfit. She wanted the money his father had sent, so he might as well get something out of the bargain. Fortunately, he was slim like his mother and they wore about the same size. The pieces would likely be a hair tight, but it would work well enough for his fantasies.

  He added the garters next and then slowly began sliding the silk hose up his legs. He sat on the small ottoman situated in the middle of the closet and drew the transparent black stockings up his pale legs and hooked them into the garter ties. Once done, he ran his hand over the surface of his thighs and on down to his calves, the sensation enough to bring a moan to his lips.