All Chapters of Steamy Sessions: A Rosy Forbidden Collection: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

~LaurenMy relationship with my mother was basically non-existent, she shipped me off to Spain for high school and didn't even bother to attend either of my graduations.I could say her dying should be a pass but was it really? Whenever I reached out to her she found new ways to shut me down.When I heard she was married I thought he was the reason she never paid any attention to me but after seeing him with another woman yesterday I am beginning to rethink that thought.“Stepdad.” The word rolls off my tongue smoothly, he was nothing like I expected. When I thought of a stepfather, I thought of an old man with streaks of grey locks or who looked like the fathers of some of the girls at the dorm.But from the looks of it my mother liked them young, Troy looks like he's in his mid-thirties and just stepped out of a magazine.He didn't like me though, it showed from the moment I stepped into the condo and his black eyes landed on mine. The playful smile he had for the woman in his arms

~Alisson “Come on, babe,” Ron said, tugging me toward the dining room like I was about to meet a celebrity and not his notoriously hot father. Brent was already at the head of the table, sipping something neat from a crystal tumbler. When he looked up and saw us, his lips curled into something between a smile and a smirk. “Allison.” His voice echoed deeply in the room. It was never calm but commanding like in a “be a good girl and get on your knees” deep. I felt it in my thighs. I smiled and stepped forward, keeping my dress from riding up too high. “Happy birthday, Mr. Connor.” He stood to shake my hand, no hug, thank God and I caught the way his gaze flicked over me just once. Like he could undress me with his eyes and still keep perfect posture. Brent was almost forty, yeah. But goddamn, he wore it with poise. His silver-streaked hair was combed back with just enough mess to make it look intentional and that short beard of his? I could only imagine it dripping with

Brent~Alisson lets out a panicked cry as my hand unclamp her neck, “Yess,” she whispers softly, “please fuck my naughty cunt. Please.”I always knew Ron was a screw up but I didn’t expect him to cheat on this walking temptation.I search her face for a hint of conflict but there’s nothing there, just lust.“Would you like to see how wet I am already?” Her hands dropped to the hem of her gown and my resolve shattered.I looked around the house, realizing that I had brought her to one of the private rooms in the house.It was basically another house section but just for me, the slightly shut door made a smile spread fast across my face.She wanted to be caught, not just by Ron but everyone downstairs dancing and celebrating. She wanted to be tagged a fucking slut. My fucking slut.I drop down on the couch closest to the door, spreading my legs apart so my hard on can be visible.“Take off your shoes.”She immediately obeys without wasting a beat, and walks over to me but I halt her.“

Alisson~No. No. No. He can’t see me like this, or maybe he can? That's what I wanted right? For him to see me with his father? Why then am I hiding under the duvet? Brent notices my pale face and guards what's left of my dignity.“I always knew you liked her but I didn't think you'd fuck her.” Brent doesn't say anything, and I feel stupid for thinking he'd ever choose me over his son.Ron paces like an animal, running a hand through his hair before turning on his father with wild burning eyes.“Jesus Christ, Dad. You couldn't keep your dick in for one night?” Brent’s eyes didn't leave mine, searching for a reaction from me but I was frozen still. I was under the covers leaking from his cum while his son yelled at both of us.Ron notices the care in his father's gaze and the mark he left under my collarbone.“Oh my God,” Ron mutters, stepping back like he's about to throw up. “You’re not even sorry, are you?”“Sorry? I wasn't the one who had his girlfriend's best friend on her knee

Alisson~A year of working through it, of self-loathing, of trying to stay on my feet without stumbling. I hate that it took this long, I hate that I couldn't be strong enough to heal from it quicker.Despite the wall I put up, Brent took his time with me and my heart aches from how much I miss him.He's sent messages every month, he's called and left voicemails being a god sent saint.My hands hover over the call button but I hesitate, what if he's moved on and he doesn't want me anymore? I settle with texting instead.Me: I might die of a cold soon.His response is almost immediate.Brent: I was thinking of using the jacuzzi today after work, to get some heat in.Bingo! That's it. Me: That's a brilliant idea.Brent: Exactly.Me: Do you still go home for lunch?Brent: Yeah. I should be heading home in an hour or two, why? Me: No reason.Me: I have to go now, text you soon.Brent: Have a good day. Glad you texted.The drive to his house is filled with nerve-wracking thoughts, what