My Stepmom's Boyfriend
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My Stepmom’s Boyfriend
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 figured “why not?” and went for it.
This one’s for you!
Also By Cassandra Dee and Friends
The Forbidden Fun Series
My Mom’s Fiancé
My Mom’s Husband
My Sister’s Husband
My Son’s Girlfriend
My Best Friend’s Dad
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
Daddy In Waiting
My Stepmom’s Boyfriend
Unexpected Daddy
Fake Daddy To Be
The Baddest Bad Boy
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
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
Pregnant by the Billionaire
The His Series
His Captive
His Woman
His Love
His Christmas Gift
Daddy Academy
Daddy Academy
Daddy Academy 2
Daddy Academy 3
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 3
Sneak Peek: Daddy In Waiting
About the Author
About This Book
Caitlin: To say my stepmom and I don’t get along is an understatement. Fiona kicked me out of the house, and I had no place to go in our little town. Fortunately, a handsome man picks me up from the side of the road and makes me an offer that’s utterly scandalous … but also utterly irresistible.
* * *
Travis: Caitlin’s perfect for what I need. She’s all alone in the world, innocent and naïve, with an angelic face and a breathtakingly curvy body. Did I offer her a dirty deal? Yes. Did she take it of her own free will? Yes. The only part we didn’t anticipate? Her stepmother’s evil machinations. But with a baby on the way, it doesn’t matter because now, I’m claiming the curvy girl as my own.
* * *
Hey Readers – We’re back for a tale of hot steam and saucy fun with My Stepmom’s Boyfriend. Caitlin is a bit of a Cinderella after her dad passes and leaves her at the mercy of her evil stepmother. However, Cait is resourceful and feisty, and she gets her revenge on said stepmother in spades. Ooh-la-la! Saddle up for some taboo fun. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always an HEA for my readers. You’ll love it, I promise! Xoxo, Cassie
1
Caitlin
* * *
A loud knock draws me from my sketches.
“Come in,” I say reluctantly, already knowing who’s on the other side.
My stepmother saunters in the room and perches herself behind me, looking over my shoulder at my designs. Her age is beginning to show, but Fiona’s always known how to take care of herself. Her make-up is subtle and her blonde hair is swept into an elegant coif. Unfortunately, her personality is really lacking, especially when it comes to me.
“Why are you bothering with these silly drawings?” she asks, looking down that pointy nose at me. “Do you actually think this is good?” Then, she sweeps her arm carelessly over my desk and the designs float like leaves onto the floor. “There. That’s where those horrific drawings belong.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my cool, even as my heart races.
“Are you here for a reason, Fiona? I’m really busy, actually.”
She sniggers.
“Is that any way to speak to your dear stepmother?”
&n
bsp; I don’t respond because I’m used to Fiona’s nasty attitude. Once she leaves my bedroom, I’ll pick up my sketches and get back to work. After all, I’ve learned not to listen to her feedback. My stepmom may tell me I’m terrible, but that won’t stop me from working towards my fashion design dreams.
“Of course, you’re silent like a deaf-mute. This is so typical, Caitlin. What an ungrateful little brat. I wish your father’s death hadn’t saddled me with the likes of you.”
Fiona continues on her rant, but I tune her out. Instead, I look at her like I’m listening, but my ears hear nothing. My stepmother is pretty, there’s no denying it. She’s tall with a wispy frame, and probably could have been a model back in her younger years. Even with the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, she’s still very attractive with her spun-gold hair.
But really, Fiona’s chances of being in front of a camera are non-existent because of her poor personality. Who wants to work with someone who’s always spewing epithets and being nasty? Moreover, Fiona’s burned every bridge that could have led to a modeling career. She snaps at everyone, right and left, and never seems to be in a good mood. However, now my stepmother has these ideas that she’s going to be a fashion designer; that is, as soon as she saves enough money to quit her job as a bank teller.
I have to give her credit: even though she has a full-time job at Apple Bank, Fiona does design, and even cut and sew sometimes in her free time. The problem is that her stuff isn’t great. Often, the seams are crooked and the sleeves don’t fit right. I’ve seen her trash a few of her creations in frustration because they’re obviously not very good, even to the untrained eye.
But some of the designs turn out okay, and you’d think that at the very least, Fiona would wear her own creations. But that’s not my stepmother’s way. Instead, she spends all her money buying clothes by famous fashion houses like Chanel and Saint Laurent. She loves designer duds, and frankly, the flashier, the better.
Today, she’s wearing Valentino. The dress does nothing for her thin figure and frankly, looks like fabric draped over a twig. Why does she think this puce color looks good, anyways? I swear, if Fiona dressed down a bit, she’d appear a lot more beautiful.
But apparently, my stepmother is clueless. I have no idea how she’ll succeed as a fashion designer when her own clothes are so bad, but hey, it’s not my job to teach her. If she thinks poorly cut garments, hanging threads, and crooked seams are the key, then more power to her.
Meanwhile, my stepmother rips into me again.
“What a fucking ungrateful brat. I’m trying to offer you constructive criticism on your designs and you never listen, Caitlin. You’ll never get anywhere in the design world unless I help you, but you can’t even hear my words. Seriously, you should win an Oscar for your deaf-mute act.”
I manage to keep my expression still.
“No, I’m just thinking,” I say in an even tone. “But I’m really busy right now, Fiona. Can we talk later?”
My stepmom sniggers again.
“You have no talent, so there’s nothing to talk about!” Then, she sweeps out of the room, the door banging shut behind her. My shoulders sag with relief as the tension exits my body, but the truth is that sometimes I worry Fiona is right. What if I actually suck? It’s not like I’ve made huge amounts of progress with my own fashion line, so I’m hardly one to talk.
I’ll die before I ask Fiona for help, though. That’s out of the question.
I glance at the sketches on the ground. They’re good, and I know it. I made them for a blog I run, and I have a few followers. Evidently fashion aficionados are interested in the entire creative process, so they like to see my designs even if they’re only on paper. I’d love to be able to make these dreams real, however. I’d love to have physical goods for women to try on, instead of only seeing my ideas in 2-D.
But then, a voice startles me.
“Are you even listening?”
I blink and look up at Fiona. Oh shit, when did she come back into the room? The woman’s staring down at me with narrowed blue eyes. Crap. I shouldn’t have spaced out because now I’ll have to deal with another lecture.
“You know what, I’m tired of your attitude, Caitlin. Why the fuck did your dad leave you with me? What did I ever do to get stuck with a goddamn ungrateful child like you?”
I try to be polite.
“I’m sorry, Fiona, I’m listening now. And I’m eighteen too, so I’m not a child anymore.”
She purses her blood-red lips tight, a crafty look coming into those narrow eyes.
“You’re right. You are eighteen, aren’t you? That’s the age of majority.”
I nod.
“Yes, I turned eighteen back in May remember?”
Of course, I don’t really expect my stepmother to remember, but Fiona surprises me then. Those skinny hands go onto her hips, and her chin juts out.
“You know what, Caitlin? I want you out of here. You’re old enough.”
I stare at her, confused.
“But this is my room.”
Fiona smirks. “No, I mean out of this house. For good. You’re no longer welcome. You’re young, healthy, able-bodied, and most importantly, you’re of age. You can get a job and move out.”
I gape at her. “No, but, but … you can’t kick me out!”
My stepmom’s sneer grows more evil.
“Oh yes, I can! You’re an adult, Caitlin. I only took you in out of the goodness of my heart after your father died because you were a child and had nowhere else to go. No one wanted you because who would? But you know what? I’m tired of supporting a lazy, broke-ass grown woman. You’re not my problem anymore. Get out of my fucking house.”
My chest tightens. This can’t be happening. Fiona wouldn’t kick me out! I lived here with Daddy before he married Fiona, so technically, this house should be mine too, right? But Fiona got herself put on the deed right before my dad passed. I think she was such a bitch about it that he gave in just to have some peace.
But now, the shit has hit the fan. Fiona wants me out, but where will I go? What will I do? Immediately, I begin to apologize at sixty miles an hour.
“Fiona, I’m sorry. I’ll get a job and help with our financial situation. I know things are tight and that your job as a bank teller doesn’t pay much but ....”
She cuts me off.
“You should’ve offered that long ago. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Beg if you want, but it won’t change anything.”
“Please, Fiona. I have nowhere to go.”
She merely sniffs and studies her nails.
“Caitlin, I wanted to kick you out the day you finished high school but I was generous and let you stick around. But now, my generosity has come to an end. You’ve had some time to figure things out and instead, you sat around this room like a fucking couch potato. Maybe if you’d put your energy into finding a job instead of creating these awful drawings, things would be different.”
I can’t help but stare at the woman standing before me. How could my father have married Fiona? Did he have any idea she’d be like this?
After all, ten years ago, I was an innocent eight-year-old girl who thought this woman was going to change our lives for the better. When my dad first brought her around, I thought it would be exciting to have another woman in our lives. But now, look what’s happened! I’m stuck with a witch, and even worse, the witch is evicting me from my own home. How crazy is that?
“Fiona, just give me a chance,” I beg again. I’m trembling now, and I’m sure she notices the tears in my eyes.
Unfortunately, my stepmom is heartless. She merely shrugs and says, “Your dad would want you to be productive. He wouldn’t want you to be lazy, so actually, I think this is a good kick in the ass for you, Caitlin.”
I stare at her. Her visage is calm, but I can sense the malice beneath her smooth expression. But should I really be surprised? After all, things were bad from practically the start. As soon as the knot was tied, Fiona wanted t
o send me off to boarding school. When Dad wouldn’t let her, she threw a fit and began to give me the cold shoulder. That was bad enough, but then my dad died. He and Fiona hadn’t even been married a year when a drunk driver struck his car head on. He passed away instantly, and the paramedics told us there was no pain. I couldn’t even understand what happened at first. Where was Daddy? When was he coming back?
When Fiona and I got back from the hospital, the house felt empty. Too empty because all of a sudden, it was just me and my stepmother. And even worse, my father deeded the house to my new stepmom, in exchange for her promise to take care of me. So, for the last ten years, I’ve been a guest in my childhood home.
In hindsight, I’m surprised the arrangement has even lasted this long because my father had a decent life insurance policy. Fiona could have used it to send me away to school like she had wanted when Dad was alive. But like a fool, she dumped the money into her design business, and sure enough, the funds disappeared like smoke. Fiona’s been a bank teller ever since, although she still talks like she’s a fashion designer.
Such is life. It’s been a tough ten years, but I’ve gotten used to it. Yes, I’m lonely, but whenever I feel particularly alone, I take out a picture I have of me and Daddy. My father’s smile always makes me smile, although sometimes tears come to my eyes.
“Why are you still sitting there? I told you to get out of my house!” Fiona’s voice screeches and I jump.