Backseat With Her Stepdad Novels & Stories

My chest tightened under the weight of her gaze. I needed to ground myself, so I spoke. “Tomorrow, we’re going to see your mom.” Her smile vanished instantly. “What?” “You heard me. When she called you, I told her you’d check in.” Her mug clinked against the counter. “Rhett, no. I don’t want to see him.” I frowned. “Him?” “My stepdad,” she spat, bitterness lacing her tone. “I don’t care about the man that claims he's my father.”

Just as Stephanie was about to bend down and get into the car, she caught a glimpse of the person sitting inside the car, which stunned her. "Dad…" A middle-aged man could be seen sitting in the back seat. He was flipping through some documents with his head dipped low at the moment. Even though he didn't say anything, he still looked intimidating. Stephanie had the guts to argue with him when she was on the phone or in a video call with him. But now, she was reduced to a cowardly daughter, who did nothing but get into the car obediently. Said daughter even shot a sneaky glance at Owen, her scary father.

He was already sitting there, his legs spread a bit, looking annoyed with his phone in hand. Mom turned around from the front passenger seat, her eyes scanning the mess. "Well, Lena, we have to make do. It's a long drive to the cabin, and we can't leave anything behind. Just sit on Jax's lap for a while until we stop for gas. It's not like you're kids anymore, but it'll be fine." She gave me that no nonsense look, the one that said arguing would get me nowhere. My stepdad nodded from the driver's seat, starting the engine without a word.

~ Immediately I parked my car, I rushed out of it, my mum following behind me even though she had said my stepdad warned her not to come. When we stepped into the reception, my stepdad was there, and beside him was Stacy. My breath caught for two reasons. It was the first time I was seeing her after that night with Zayne, and the second reason was because she currently looked like a mess. Eyes red, body looking shaken and fragile. She sat stiffly, hands clasped in her lap as though holding herself together physically might stop her world from falling apart.

I am aware that from the outside we look like them. I am aware that we are not like them, or not yet, or not in any way that has a word attached to it. She lives in my home. She is carrying my son. She came back on terms she wrote herself and I agreed to all of them without negotiating a single line. We have not named any of it. We are two people in a waiting room without a category. She reaches down and moves her bag two inches to the left for no reason I can identify. I understand, watching her do it, that she is nervous.

Mom asks seeing me laying down in the backseat crying. “Even without a wolf, the love he has for her is this intense,” Dad says before closing the door. The car is soundproof and thankfully reenforced. I see Carrie’s stepdad run up to Dad and bow. He is talking fast, but Dad cuts him off. My Dad is not going to blame his best warrior for the behavior of a human daughter. That would be bad for pack. Mom gets in the front and Dad into the driver seat. I have stopped crying, but I am laying on the bench seat staring at nothing.

Later that evening I stood on the driveway and watched the driver load mum's bags into the car while Greg stood beside me with his arms crossed looking like a man who'd been trusted with a priceless jewel. Mum kissed my forehead and told me to be a good girl for her and I did not dignify that with a response. I watched the car till it turned out of sight and disappeared. Until there was nothing left on the driveway except me and my stepdad and a week where he'd own me. He turned to look at me. Said absolutely nothing. Just looked at me with those dark eyes and that salt and pepper beard catching the evening light. He had on that slow wicked smile that meant he knew things I wasn't ready for

She had the kind of presence that could gut a man without raising her voice. And Devon left her. It didn’t make sense, not on the surface. But then, my stepson was never much for surfaces. He played the long game, even when it meant sacrificing things most men would never give up. Still. He must’ve had a reason. But as I glanced at her again, rainwater trickling down the side of her cheek like silver, I couldn’t help but think… it better have been a damned good one. She wasn’t speaking. Just staring out the window, like the trees offended her.

he said. I did. “I need your mouth on me,” he said. Voice low. Desperate. “I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Need to come down your throat. Please, baby girl. Please.” I stared at him. My stepdad. Begging me to suck his cock in the back seat of his car. I licked my lips. “Are you blackmailing me?” I asked quietly. He groaned. Head falling back against the seat for a second.

"That was different. We were family then." "Were we?" she asked, her voice small. "I mean, really?" I didn't know how to answer that right away. "I tried to be a good stepdad. Still care about you, kid." "I'm not a kid anymore, Brad." "I know that," I said quick, maybe too quick. "Doesn't change much though." The thunder rolled again, and I heard her shift in the bed. "Can you come back up here? Just for a little while. The storm's still bad."