My Filthy Father In Law
A Forbidden Romance
Cassandra Dee
Copyright © 2020 by Cassandra Dee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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To all the girls who’ve had crushes on the MOST inappropriate of men.
This one’s for you!
Also By Cassandra Dee and Friends
The Forbidden Fun Series
My Sister’s Husband
My Mom’s Husband
My Best Friend’s Dad
My Son’s Girlfriend
My Mom’s Fiancé
My Neighbor’s Husband
My Best Friend’s Husband
My Brother’s Teammates
My Fiancé’s Twin Brothers
The Neighbor Next Door
My Dad’s College Friends
My Bully’s Dad
My Sister’s Boyfriend
The Billionaire’s Pet
The Soldier Next Door
My Boss’s Father
The Frat Boys Next Door
My Dad’s Business Partner
My Boss’s Husband
My Bestie’s Dad
Pregnant By 2 Men
My Filthy Father In Law
The Falling Series
Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend
Falling for My Boyfriend’s Dad
Falling for My Son’s Best Friend
Falling for My Beautiful Ward
Falling for My Enemy
The Double Series
Double Dare
Double Exposure
Double Love
Double Desire
Double Trouble
Double Candy Canes
The Dirty Series
The Dirty Hotel King
My Friend’s Dirty Uncle
My Dirty Professor
The Dirty Headmaster
Sold to Him
His Filthy Game
The Dirty Set-Up
My Bestie’s Dad
The Billionaires Club
Sold at the Auction
Serving Him
Buy Me
Virgin for Sale
Anonymous Encounters
The #BABYCRAZY Series
#BABYMACHINE
#BABYMAKER
#BABYFEVER
#BABYCRAZY
In Love with Menage
All the Best Men
Their Secret
It’s a Deal
Just One Night
Just One Night, Vol 1
Just One Night, Vol 2
Just One Night, Vol 3
Just One Night, Vol 4
The Manning Brothers
Just One More
Just One Inch
Just Two Much
Just The Tip
The Dial-A-Date Series
The President My Lover
Client No. 6
Bad Cop
Reverse Harem
Seven Brothers of Sin
Six Ways to Sin
Three Rockstars of Sin
Shared
Shared, Vol. 1
Shared, Vol. 2
Shared, Vol. 3
Shared, Vol. 4
The Claiming Her Series
Claiming Her In The Ring
Claiming Her In The Pool
Claiming Her At The Bar
Claiming Her As A Daddy
Claiming Her In the Forest
The Boss Series
My Boyfriend’s Boss
Pregnant by My Boss
Pregnant by the CEO
The His Series
His Captive
His Woman
His Love
His Christmas Gift
Daddy Academy
Daddy Academy
Daddy Academy 2
Standalones
Don’t Fall For Me
Tie Me Up Daddy
Paying My Boyfriend’s Debt
Beg Me
Prison Fling
Cocky AF
Iron Soldier
Buck Me Cowboy
Small Town Secrets
The President and the Starlet
His Baby
Buying a Bride
The Billionaire’s Kitten
Closer
Loving the Babysitter
Daddy’s Rich Enemy
Daddy’s Pretty Baby
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Daddy Academy 2
Sneak Peek: My Dad’s Business Partner
About the Author
About This Book
Temptation has never tasted so sweet.
* * *
Holly:
* * *
After my husband passed away, I was bereft. Despair weighed heavily on my shoulders, and time seemed to grind to a halt.
But then he came: Cave.
My father in law.
The one man in the world who’s totally off limits.
But one ecstatic night of passion has consequences, and now I’m expecting his baby.
* * *
Cave:
* * *
I should have stayed away.
But Holly needed me, so I came back.
What I didn’t expect was for the grieving widow to be curvy, gorgeous, and altogether irresistible.
The sassy girl says it’s wrong but what she doesn’t realize is that once I put my baby in her belly, she won’t have a choice.
Holly will be mine for keeps.
* * *
Hey Readers - This book is so taboo and hot that your palms will be scorched by the time you’re done. Holly and Cave break all the rules, but it’s worth it because of the child they’ve conceived together. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers. You’ll love the story, I promise! Xoxo, Cassie
1
Holly
* * *
This house has felt empty for the last two years.
Even though Lenny is long gone, I still feel a sharp sting of doubt whenever I enter his office in our home. I stand in the doorway and can practically see him sitting at his oak desk, piles of papers nearly up to his head. He barely looks up at me as the red pen in his hand dances across the paper, eagerly trying to make sales as a salesperson for a local computer parts company. I smile wanly at the memory, a tear almost drops from my eye, and a shiver almost snakes its way down my spine.
Almost.
Truth be told, missing Lenny comes in waves. Our relationship was born out of mutuality, a common love for basic interests that blossomed into a friendship. He was my best friend throughout college, my partner in crime, and my wingman at parties. It was a comfortable relationship filled with laughter and love, stolen glances and slight brushes of skin. I always thought nothing of Lenny until he kissed me one winter night.
Snowed in on the Colorado State campus, it seemed like we were the only two people in the entire world. Everyone had flown home for the holidays earl
y upon hearing about the massive snowstorm that was nailing the surrounding area. I remember the bitter chill freezing the tips of my fingers and toes and my painful nose, red and swollen as the wind brutally beat us. Holding hot cups of coffee in our hands didn’t help warm us as we hoped it would and I can still hear our laughter echoing loudly down the empty street, as leafless, snow-covered trees loomed over us.
“Holly,” Lenny had said. “Look up.”
I obeyed him and tilted my chin, peering into the night sky as the snow fell fast and hard around us. The nightly darkness was illuminated by white flecks, but even without the snow, the crisp December night still would have been breathtaking. The tree branches hung lower than usual with the weight of winter, and they formed an archway over us, shielding us from the steady fall of gentle snowflakes. It was like I was standing in the middle of a fairy tale wonderland.
I glanced back at Lenny. My breath was visible as we stood in silence, a thick cloud of fog emerging from between my lips after every exhale. He stared at me with a sudden urgency, a sudden desire in his eyes that I had never seen before. It nearly unnerved me, and shook me to my core. I almost took a step back as he moved forward, but then I held my ground.
He said, “There’s beauty in darkness, don’t you think?”
I nodded my head. “There’s beauty in everything.”
He cast me a lop-sided grin. “There’s beauty in you, Holly.”
I gave him an odd look and took a sip of my coffee, letting the hot liquid burn down my throat. “You really think so?”
Another step was taken toward me. And another. And another. Then, Lenny was inches from my lips, the tips of his shoes touching mine, his hand grazing my cheek delicately like I was a precious flower.
“I know so,” he whispered against my lips and kissed me.
The brush of his lips brought me…
Well, not a lot.
I was expecting fireworks to shoot into the night sky and explode the second his mouth skimmed mine. I was expecting butterflies to start bouncing around in my stomach and my heart to start hammering in my chest. I was expecting my insides to turn into mush, for my sex to start yearning for him the moment he kissed me.
Unfortunately, it just felt okay. A little awkward, even.
Ah, memories. I shake my head, moving away from Lenny’s old office and shutting the door quietly. My footsteps cause the floorboards to creak loudly as I walk down the hall. I pass my reading room and smile to myself, glancing at the wall of books that I cherish and adore. I enter the living room and collapse on the bean bag chair my parents got us as a present when we first bought this house. It was Lenny’s favorite thing in the world.
Looking back on that snowy night, I don’t know why I didn’t stop the kiss. I don’t know why I agreed to date him. I don’t know why I married him after college, come to think of it. I loved Lenny, but I wasn’t in love with him. He was my rock, my best friend, and my entire world. I didn’t look at him in a sexual way, and because of that, we never made love, even after we got married. It’s crazy, right? Most people who have sexless marriages says that it only becomes that way after kids, or after thirty years together. But that’s how Lenny and I started.
Yes, we did do other stuff, but there was never any urgency. It was just passionate kisses and maybe some awkward fumbling beneath the covers. Lenny just wasn’t the person who made my heart throb whenever I looked at him, or the man who made me ache with need. Unfortunately, I only realized that toward the end of his life.
Now, the only things that remain untouched in this house are his office and his favorite bean bag chair. Everything else that was Lenny’s has pretty much been phased out of the house in accordance with my grieving process. It began slowly, starting with some of his clothes and books, and then ended with his wedding ring. I threw the silver band into the river he drowned in, the river that consumed him. The river that killed him.
I remember the call like it was yesterday.
I remember feeling my heart drop to my stomach, swelling with grief and disbelief.
I remember falling to my knees, my screams deafening and my fists punching the floorboards of this very house.
Lenny’s death hit me like a swift punch to the gut, painful and quick. My mind still wanders to that phone call at random times, the words river and drowning and accident repeating themselves over and over again in my head. It’s been two years since I received the phone call that changed my life, the one that took my best friend away from me.
Two years. How quickly time passes. A man jogging along the trail beside the river saw my husband’s floating, lifeless body drifting aimlessly with the water. Lenny was pale, his fingertips black and blue from the bitterly cold water, and he was face down. The man called the police and they in turn called me to identify his body at the morgue a few hours later. I drove there by myself, my hands shaking uncontrollably with tears blurring my vision. I prayed the entire trip to the morgue, promising God that I would be a better wife to Lenny. I promised I would try to love him the way he loves me, if God would spare his life, just this once.
But I knew as soon as I saw his pale, still face that there was nothing that was going to bring him back to life. His brown hair was matted to his skull, flat and lifeless. His chocolate brown eyes were closed, the deathly vacancy in his stare hidden from me. It was single-handedly the worst moment of my life.
The police told me it was an accident; that he’d been walking along the bridge above the river and leaned over the edge. His foot slipped from beneath him and he fell, drowning in the cold water almost instantly. I remember feeling a sense of dread and doubt in the center of my chest when I heard those words because I suspected they weren’t true.
I don’t believe that Lenny’s death was an accident. Rather, I think it was a suicide.
As his wife, I knew just how badly he struggled with depression. While we were in college, there were days when he refused to go to class because a sadness pervaded his essence, taking over his soul and swallowing him whole. He would lay in bed and reject food, drink, and any efforts to cheer him up. I eventually convinced him to attend therapy and he was put on medication as part of his fight to survive.
Things were okay for a long while. Enough so that he was able to graduate, and we were able to get married. But I knew the demon had come back recently. Lenny’s job as a salesman was incredibly stressful because he wasn’t really good at it, and was often reprimanded for his poor performance. I noticed he stopped taking his medication and when I confronted him about it, it was like a third world war broke out in the house. He was furious and incredulous that I was accusing him of such a thing and claimed that I was trying to control him. After countless attempts, I backed down.
There was nothing I could do to convince him to take better care of himself, and that had consequences.
Riddled with guilt and shame, I decide it’s time for me to head to bed and curl up with my favorite book and a nice cup of hot chocolate. I retreat to the bedroom that was once ours. Every trace of Lenny has been removed and replaced with an aspect of me and my personality. The only thing that is his in this room is a framed picture of him and his parents on his nightstand.
Unbidden, my eyes slide over the photo to rest on my father-in-law, Cave. My father-in-law looks nothing like Lenny, who was slim with thin arms and legs. By contrast, Cave is built, with wide shoulders and heavy, brawny arms. It’s not that Lenny was ugly – in fact, my husband was handsome, in a very mild, gentle kind of way. But his dad is different. Cave’s rough-hewn features are gorgeous, with a high forehead, Roman nose, and square chin. Although I’ve only met him a handful of times since I married his son, I’ve always secretly admired his looks.
But what am I thinking? This is my father in law. Or ex-father in law. Is that even a thing? Ruefully, I tear my eyes away and strip to my tee shirt and thin underwear, jumping into the center of the bed and pulling the sheets over my almost nude body. I grab a book from the nightstand on
my side of the bed and crack it open, expecting to delve into a different universe for a while.
But that doesn’t happen.
Instead, I find my eyes drifting to the photo of Lenny and his parents again, lingering over Cave’s ruggedly handsome face and imagining him on top of me, his hands exploring my body…
Oh god, this is so wrong, but before I can stop myself, my hands are underneath the blanket, peeling off my moist panties and tossing them off the bed. I close my eyes and imagine that it’s Cave hovering over me, his smile white and his shoulders bronzed and broad. He’s gently easing himself into me before thrusting with passion and need. He kisses my breasts, sucking and licking each one of my nipples and making me arch my back with pleasure.
My fingers work effortlessly, rubbing and probing my core until I feel a familiar tingle deep within me. My toes curl and I let out a short scream of “Cave!” before exhaling in relief, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as pleasure rakes through my form. I curl on my side after the ecstasy subsides and lie there, limp and drained.
Oh god, that was so wrong. After all, Cave Pierce is my husband’s dad. Who does that? And yet, lying here as pleasure ebbs over my frame, I can’t help myself. I’m attracted to my gorgeous father in law, and I just want more.
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