My name is Riley, nineteen years old, and I’d been living with my mom and her new husband, Derek, for almost a year. Derek was everything my real dad wasn’t tall, muscular, successful, with a deep voice that made my stomach flutter whenever he spoke. He was thirty-eight, worked out every morning, and had this calm, dominant way about him that made the whole house feel smaller when he was in it.Mom had left for a two-week business trip to Europe that morning. The house felt different the second her car pulled away. Just me and Derek.I was in the kitchen that evening, wearing a thin white tank top and tiny cotton shorts that barely covered my ass. I knew he was watching me from the living room as I reached up to grab a glass from the top shelf. My top rode up, showing the curve of my lower back.“Riley,” his voice came from behind me, low and rough. “You shouldn’t be walking around dressed like that.”I turned around slowly. Derek stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes dark. He was
Last Updated : 2026-06-05 Read more