Touch Me, Step-Daddy; Forbidden Cravings
Mars looked like he wanted to cry when we walked through the door.
"Miss Alex," he started weakly.
"Don't worry, Mr. Mars," I interrupted cheerfully. "We'll be in my room. Won't make a mess."
And when Dean came home, I made sure we were blasting music loud enough to rattle the windows.
Heavy metal. The kind with screaming vocals and drums that sounded like thunder.
My door flew open.
Dean stood there, his face a mask of barely controlled fury, his hands clenched at his sides.
"Turn it off," he growled.