บททั้งหมดของ IN MY STEPSON’S BED: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 46

For the first time in a long while, I felt… happy. Or maybe at peace. I was in the Hamptons, in one of our summer homes, surrounded by my family. At least, that’s what they were to me now—family.Family didn’t have to mean blood; it was about the connections, the people who cared for you. Even though last night with Noah had left a trace of that familiar low mood, I couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through my chest, an overwhelming sense of happiness enveloping me.Was this how all pregnant women felt? Did they usually experience this quiet joy, this sense of calm radiating through their bodies? For me, that was exactly what I felt. Happy. Surrounded by people who loved me, even if Richard didn’t.Beneath the rush of happiness, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to what Noah had said about Richard. Was he really starting to develop feelings for me? How could that be, when we barely spent any time together? Before summer, all he ever seemed to do was work. Most of our conversation

NOAH Two weeks in that house felt like pure torture—everything I hated rolled into one. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed like her friend was always hovering, always trying to talk to me, and it was exhausting because I had zero interest. The worst part, though, was seeing Dianne every single day and still not getting her to myself.Most nights after dinners or outings, by the time we got back she’d be drained, and the last thing I wanted was to push her when she was already exhausted. So, I’d let her be, leave her to rest, and hold myself back.But tonight was different. Tonight, I was certain she was mine. I could see it in the way she looked at me across the restaurant table, those eyes she only gave me when she wanted me. That slow, lingering gaze, the subtle smirk tugging at her lips… it was seductive, deliberate, and impossible to miss. My thoughts were interrupted yet again by Samantha—for the third time. She and my dad had been bickering since we left the restaurant, and t

I blinked, a hint of surprise flashing through me, and for some reason my dress was still clutched to my hand, covering my bare chest. I looked at him closely and intently. I could tell him to leave right now, in a stern voice, and he would. I could let all the anger I’d been holding spill out, anger at the way he’d been purposely, I assumed, flirting with that woman. But I didn’t. Seeing him this furious already felt like my payback. I studied his expression, the sharp lines of anger mixed with something else, something hungrier, both fighting for dominance yet balanced in equal measure. His hair fell carelessly across his forehead, his shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal his chest. He looked maddeningly hot, even standing there on the edge of exploding. “Can't you knock?” “I’ve been holding it in for days! Trying to deal with your hormones, trying to put up with this summer house bullshit, trying to act like I give a damn since you suddenly lost interest, and this is what