My Best Friend’s Stepdad (Forbidden Fantasies #75) Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
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“Halsey, we can’t do this,” he says in a low growl. “Absolutely not. Of course, I’ll sleep on the couch and your friend can take my room.”

But I stare in dismay at Curt’s six foot three frame because I know that no sofa is going to be comfortable for a man as tall and broad as this one.

“No, no, no, I’ll go home,” I repeat quickly again. “It’s not a big deal.”

But Halsey takes charge then. She literally reaches for my bag and slings it over her own shoulder before stomping into Curt’s room and dumping it on the mattress.

“See? Plenty of space,” she says in a smug tone while gesturing to the masculine environs. “It’s perfect and this room alone must be five hundred square feet. You guys won’t even notice each other.”

By now, my cheeks are beet red and my thighs press together against the moist wetness there. Still, I can’t let this happen.

“Oh no,” I say hurriedly. “I’ll just take the couch then. Thank you, Mr. Salomon, but I can’t let you do this. Here, I’ll move my stuff.”

Curt’s large hand descends on mine, stopping my movement. A jolt of electricity shoots up through my arm and I look up into a flashing pair of blue eyes. Yet his voice is low and soothing when he speaks.

“It’s fine, honey. Let’s figure it out later, shall we? I don’t want this to devolve into a series of “me, no me’s,” so let’s just pause for a moment and catch our breaths. Halsey’s right, this isn’t the biggest apartment ever, but it’s not tiny either. We’ll figure something out without you returning to the dorms.”

I’m barely able to breathe because we’re so close. I get a good look at Curt’s proud, masculine features, not to mention the almost criminally sensual mouth. Not only that, but the alpha male’s cologne surrounds me then, and it’s a woodsy musk mixed with a scent that I can only describe as him. The combination makes me heady, weak, and turned on all at once.

“Yes, Mr. Salomon,” I murmur helplessly. “Whatever you say.”

Our eyes meet and lock, and it’s as if the world disappears, leaving only the two of us. The attraction between us is palpable and I can feel my nipples hardening even more beneath my thin t-shirt. Curt senses it too, and his blue gaze slides downward to my big breasts, before sliding even lower to my narrow waist and big bottom, encased in a pair of skin-tight jeans.

“We’ll figure it out,” he mutters again, more to himself than anyone as he absorbs my lush figure. "Hell yeah.”

Then, the doorbell rings and Halsey lets out a squeal of joy.

“Oh my God, it must be Travis,” she sings. “He’s here!” My blonde friend dashes out of the room before skipping down the hall and wrenching the door open. Then, I hear a low masculine growl and the sounds of a deep, passionate kiss. Her boyfriend must be just as happy to see her, judging from how long that kiss goes on.

Meanwhile, Curt and I stare at each other a little more, the air between us trembling with energy. Finally, the handsome man looks away before turning to greet our new visitor, but I can tell from the set of those broad shoulders, not to mention the bulge at his crotch, that this is going to be an interesting holiday. Very interesting, indeed.

CHAPTER 3

Curt

Fuck. I can’t believe my life has come down to this.

Don’t get me wrong because my life isn’t terrible by a long shot. It just happens to be a complete shitshow at this particular moment, and I wonder how I got myself into this mess. After all, I like to think of myself as a decent guy. Okay, maybe not quite “decent.” Maybe I’m an asshole who uses his good looks to lure young, innocent women into bed. Then again, maybe they aren’t so innocent, and that’s a good thing because what we do together would make most women scream.

But I like it that way. I’m a dirty fuck, and after getting burned by my divorce, I did a one-eighty. Instead of dating my age or older (my ex-wife is a good ten years older than me), I started going in the other direction instead. With a vengeance too. As a result, I regularly date college girls, or sometimes even high school ladies. It’s bad, I know. Plus, their parents don’t exactly appreciate my actions because I’m a thirty-five-year-old man who’s been around the block one too many times. They take one look at me and know that I’m not holding their daughters’ hands and pressing sweet kisses to their cheeks. Instead, I’ve got my head buried between their thighs, making them moan and scream as they come with a body-shaking orgasm.



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