All Chapters of HIS CHUBBY STEPDAUGHTER: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

MICHELA;“Gosh, that girl was going to strangle me with questions.”I snapped the words out the second Jemy’s bedroom door shut behind us. I went straight for the wide window, needing air that didn't smell like perfume, polished attitude, and questions. Down below, one of the Lincolns’ drivers moved around the black car. Opening the doors like he was rearranging something I wasn’t sure of. I caught a glimpse of her mother too; she was walking toward the car, holding up the hem of her dress. They were finally getting ready to leave. And honestly, I wanted to do the same too.You know, I wondered why Jemy wasn’t downstairs, walking her guests toward their car. But turned out the new wife had no strength for the baggage that came with being Mrs. Clark.“This is not funny, Jemy.” I turned back to her. “I felt like I was being suffocated.”She stood by the dresser loosening the gold pins from her hair, still half-smiling like the evening had been mildly entertaining instead of socially

MICHELA; Jemy had wanted to walk me down the stairs, but looking at her face, I saw how tired and exhausted she already was, and I wasn't about to make her walk that flight of stairs just to see me off. I came down the stairs, humming one of my favorite songs, my Capri pants hugging me a little too lightly like they had missed me from the hours I was in the emerald dress. The tank top too, sitting right above my pants and allowing my curves all the exposure they could get. The denim jacket stayed on one shoulder. My mind had nothing else in it but to see Miles. I had missed my man and I couldn't wait to be home with him, in his arms. I walked down the stairs a little too eagerly; he was waiting in the truck just by the gate. But my steps faltered when I saw Ivy standing by the mini bar projected from the wall under the staircase. The tune I was humming died a natural death instantly. She was still here? I could have sworn I saw their cars drive off. She sat on one of the l

MICHELA;Miles had been intentional enough to get us takeout for dinner. And even now that I stood in the room after the shower, I could hear the TV playing low downstairs in the living room.I grabbed the jar of my vanilla-scented body mist and sprayed a few times over my neck and down my silky black night robe. I walked down the staircase. Miles sat on the floor, boxer pants tight on his waist, his attention fixed on the TV until he noticed me. I stopped near the first couch and let my silky night robe fall off my shoulders to the floor. I didn't bother to look at it; I just moved to where he sat, completely bare, as his eyes ravaged me.The TV continued playing low in the background, some quiet evening program neither of us was watching. Miles sat with his back against the couch, now fully bare as I helped strip his boxers off. He wanted me sitting on his dick and that was exactly what I was going to do. I sank down over him until he filled me in one slow stretch that dragged a

MICHELA;It was early Saturday morning, and the house still smelled like breakfast, and a little bit of lemon air freshener I had fizzled around earlier.Miles had left for golf with Max before the sun got strong, kissing the side of my head and telling me the industrial cleaners might come by for the renovated bookstore and cafe. I had stayed in the kitchen in his shirt, sleeves rolled, hem brushing my thighs, clearing plates and wiping crumbs off the table like that small order could keep the whole day steady.The doorbell rang. I paused over the table. “Must be the cleaners,” I muttered. That was the only thing that made sense for someone to be knocking this early. We barely had any visitors too.I moved quickly, heart lifting a little as I wiped my hands on a dish towel, flung it to the counter, and went to the door barefoot.When I pulled it open, it was not the cleaners.Celeste stood on the step in a soft cream blouse and tailored pants that looked too serious for a bright Sa

MICHELA;Miles held the door open and watched me slide into the passenger seat. He gathered the long tail of my red mermaid dress and helped tuck it in so it would not catch when he jammed the door.Then he paused, still holding the door.“You look ravishing,” he said, and held out his hand. The moon lit up his face as his eyes softened slightly.I took it. “Thank you.”He rubbed his thumb over my hand softly, then let go, shut the door, and walked around to the driver’s side.I caught myself in the rearview mirror. The makeup was perfect. Better than anything Jemy had done for me at the estate. It lifted my cheekbones and made my jawline look cleaner and sharper. A soft bronze shine sat along my neckline, where the stylist had dusted it on. In low light, it caught every time I turned. What I loved most was my hair: one thick braid down the middle of my back, still wavy still at the edges, tiny pearls worked through it like tiny stars.Miles got in. The green numbers on the dashboard