II: What Game Shall I Play?

MY STEPSON’S HARD DRIVE IS FULL OF HIS XXX TAPES, EPISODE 2: WHAT GAME SHALL I PLAY?

SASHA

Hogan’s driver came ten minutes after we were finished, and they drove to the airport. I shivered in the morning breeze. Autumn was fast approaching, and the air felt damp.

I went back inside. Rubbing my palm over my neck, I pushed the door open and walked across the large red footmat. My heart lurched in my chest.

Kaleb was barely inside. He was practically blocking my way, his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“Where did he keep it?” Kaleb asked me. There was no trace of a smile on his face. I tried to see past the wheels turning behind his dark eyes. What were his thoughts? What had he seen?

He looked a lot like his father, just younger and angrier.

“Good morning, Kaleb,” I said, slipping past him through the narrow space between his body and the door.

“Where did he keep my drive?”

“Go follow him, you might still catch him,” I said, walking toward the kitchen.

There was some leftover rice from dinner last night. I pretended my only worry was food and what to eat.

“There is no way he would take it with him.”

“I do not know where he kept your drives. If you want them, go after the person who took them, okay? I need to figure out breakfast for both of us.”

“I never asked you to cook for me,” Kaleb said. He marched inside, stopping right at the kitchen entrance. “If you want to help, give me the keys to your bedroom so I can find the drives myself.”

I blinked, patting the pocket of my robe. The key was safe there, and I did not think Kaleb would dare try to take it.

He was furious, but he was also scared and careful. Just like me, he needed his father’s money.

He did not have to call me mum or respect me, but if he touched me or turned violent, his father would deal with him.

There were lines he could not cross. We all had them, one or two rules we lived by. But the thing about forbidden lines is that deep down, we all want to cross them. Some actually do, while others only dream about it in their fantasies.

“You will not find them, and my privacy is non-negotiable,” I said to the angry teenager.

“So he did not keep them in there?” Kaleb asked, losing his patience.

I did not even blink. “Whatever,” I replied smoothly. I grabbed a bag of vegetables from the top of the fridge and reached around the counter for the cooking oil. With deliberate slowness, I bent forward to retrieve it, letting the silky fabric of my robe hug every curve of my body.

Kaleb made a low, rough sound deep in his throat, half a growl and half a hiss. “Jesus. I just want my drives. You always act as if you care. If you really do, help me find them. I only need one or two, and the old man will never notice a few are missing. He is old and forgetful. That is the only reason you are even with him.”

“And why was your mother with him?” I challenged him, stepping closer.

“Hey! Do not talk about my mother,” Kaleb snapped, pointing an accusing finger at my face.

I chuckled, enjoying the way I could get under his skin. “I want to help you, but I want to think about it first,” I told him.

Across the room, his chest was heaving with hot, angry breaths.

His nostrils flared, and his eyes turned dark and steely. He smiled constantly in pictures on his social media profiles. To the world, he was just a happy, adventurous kid. But at home, he was nothing more than a ball of raw fury.

Angry, angry, angry. It was about time I figured out how to use that burning anger for my own pleasure. The boy was going to do what I wanted, and I was going to ensure it.

“What do you want?” Kaleb demanded. “Do you want a share of my inheritance? More money? Or do you just want my acceptance?”

A sudden rush of heat splashed across my chest as I laughed out loud. He watched me cautiously now, unsure of my game.

“Why do you want those drives so badly?” I asked him instead, finally throwing him a piece of the puzzle.

He stared at me, his face impassive. I could see the heavy struggle inside him. He wanted to beg, but his pride held him back.

“Work. My whole life is on them. Privacy is non-negotiable,” Kaleb spat my own words right back at me. “Do you understand, stepmama?” he added with a sharp edge of mockery.

I turned away from him slowly. “Your father and I like to play some very kinky games, Kaleb. I do not want you snooping around our bedroom. I am sure you understand that. You are not a kid.”

I opened the freezer. Kaleb stood at my right side, watching me intently. I saw him from the corner of my eye.

“I love the weather lately. Do you love autumn, Christmas, anything? Anything at all except yourself?” I held the freezer door open. Instead of taking anything out, I slowly loosened the belt of my robe, letting it part slightly to expose my heated skin to the cold draft. “I had better leave this open. I used to do that all the time when I was a kid—”

“Can we skip this part?” he groaned.

“I will get you your hard drives, but not today. Go to class, come back later, and they will be yours.”

Kaleb began to complain like a stubborn child. “If you are going to give them to me later, what difference does it make now? Just give them to me already. You know where they are.”

“I need time to look for them. I am not entirely sure where he hid them, and besides, I want to do it on my terms. Whether it makes a difference to you or not, I do not care, Kaleb.”

“Tonight, then.”

“Tonight,” I whispered, fanning my flushed face with my hand. I brushed a stray lock of hair away from my damp neck, my skin burning with a slick, heavy heat.

Kaleb’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to my exposed skin before snapping back to my eyes. “Fine. No problem. I will expect them in my bedroom the moment I get back from class.”

He turned and walked away after that, heavy footsteps stomping with lingering frustration, while I stayed behind to finish making a breakfast he would eat like a ravenous teenager.

I wanted to get him out of the house as soon as possible.

I knew I had waited a long time for this, but my anticipation was already peaking, impossible to contain any longer. I could barely wait to see what would happen after.