Anonymous Encounters(45)

A May December Stepdaddy Forbidden Romance



(Erotic Romance)



© 2016



By Cassandra Dee





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© 2016 Cassandra Dee



All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be  reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express  permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a  book review.



This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or  dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The  characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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DEDICATION



To all the ladies out there who were once dirty virgins  …

Aren't the memories delicious?





CHAPTER ONE


Cleo




Drake Markham has been watching me. I feel it more and more lately, ever  since I turned eighteen. It looks like he's eating breakfast or reading  the newspaper but actually his eyes are trailing my body, taking in my  every move.

I think it has something to do with my newly developed figure. Just six  months ago, I was as skinny as a beanpole and looked like a boy. I had  no boobs, no butt, no hips, straight as a ruler, yes sir. Add to that a  terrible haircut and braces, and I was pretty much an ugly Pippi  Longstocking complete with flaming red hair.

But I've changed these last few months.

"Mom," I whispered, cheeks hot. "I need a bra. I can't keep going around without one."

It was so embarrassing to be talking about this at the breakfast table,  but it was the only time I saw Lorena now. My mom was constantly  disappearing, usually with our pool boy Carlos, and I could never catch  her alone. My face colored, the heat rising all the way to my hairline,  and I could barely move I was so humiliated.

But I'd seen Drake look. Despite the fact that I hadn't glanced his way,  I'd sensed his awareness of my words, of me. His eyes had flicked in my  direction instinctively and then away, shielded by the rustle of his  newspaper.

But Lorena knew no discretion.

"Oh honey, of course I'll take you," she singsonged, not bothering to  lower her voice. "My little girl is growing up," she trilled. "How  delightful!"

And it was true, I did need a bra now. My girls were Double D's, they'd  puffed up overnight from invisible A's and I could no longer go around  without some support, my jugs were now so juicy and pendulous that they  strained against my baby tee, the nips poking out like pebbles.

"Can you go this weekend?" I asked tightly, my voice strained. There was  no point in whispering anymore, Drake could hear everything.

"Oh honey, this weekend is so soon," Lorena replied, waving her hand at  me, blowing at her nail polish. "How about a month from now? I have so  much going on," she offered as an excuse, although not saying exactly  what. Probably lying by the pool watching Carlos, or him watching her,  whichever way it went.

But our conversation got my stepdad's attention. He snorted before growling, "Lorena, I think you should take her this weekend."

I looked at him with grateful eyes, gazing into those dark blue irises.  When had Daddy become so handsome, so arresting? My skin sizzled as he  looked back at me, the intensity in the air electrifying, almost buzzing  with our shared heat.         

     



 

But Mom was immune to it all, sensing nothing.

"Oh alright," pouted Lorena. "I'll take her this weekend. Fine, since you guys are ganging up against me."

And it was then that my stepdad got up, scooting back his chair and  standing, his massive frame dominating the tiny breakfast nook.

"I've got to get to work now," he rumbled, elegant in his thousand  dollar suit. "Lorena, Cleo," he nodded before striding out, his gait  smooth, the long steps swallowing the distance in seconds.

And I sighed. Drake Markham  …  successful businessman, pillar of the  community, handsome, charismatic, a man about town before he met my mom.  How did Lorena snag him, when women everywhere were drooling, throwing  themselves in his path?

But it's not that hard to understand because my mom is really pretty  with a bubbling, engaging personality. She used to be one of his  cleaning ladies, someone the agency sent to sweep and vacuum every  weekend. After six months at the estate, Drake noticed her. Not that I  was surprised. My mom is a bombshell, the kind who has curves busting  out in every direction, lots of pizzazz and juice.

And I saw the way she flirted with him, the way she always happened to  trip and fall into his arms when he was around, the way she made herself  available in the most obvious manner. And Drake was a man, he noticed  too. He liked her curves, the way her ass was round and juicy, and  pretty soon they were getting it on on a regular basis despite the fact  that Lorena scrubbed his bathrooms.

"Mom, where were you?" I'd ask from the dining table after Mom had another late night. "Was it the Markham Estate again?"

I was almost afraid to ask. Before Lorena signed up with this  housekeeping service we'd been living paycheck to paycheck, with no  benefits, no security, nothing except the cash my mom brought home each  week. So I was afraid that her illicit encounters with the boss were  going to bring our newfound financial security down with a crash.

And Lorena nodded.

"I was with Drake Markham," she exclaimed, fanning herself. "He's so  handsome isn't he?" she giggled. "Now excuse me, I've got to change,"  she pranced off, not even bothering to hide the fact that her uniform  was askew, her hair a mess, no doubt from the hot session she'd just  had.

But I only shook my head, not knowing what to say. Don't sleep with the  boss? If the housekeeping service finds out, they're going to fire your  ass in a second and we'll be living out of the car again? But these  words had been said a thousand times before, so I just put my head down,  turned back to my homework and kept my mouth shut.

But Lorena struck gold, literally. One morning when I got up, I found my mom making pancakes in the kitchen of our trailer.

"Honey," she said, "Come take a seat, I made your favorite blueberry flapjacks!"

And I stumbled sleepily to the low bench, plopping myself down on the  cheap velour. When had Lorena ever been up before noon? Usually she only  took afternoon jobs because her late nights with Mr. Markham were so  frequent now that morning bookings were impossible. So to find her  puttering around in an apron, happily humming at the crack of dawn was a  change.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked blearily, rubbing my eyes. "Why are you up?"

"Oh honey, I wanted to take care of you, make sure you had a nutritious  breakfast before heading to school," she admonished fondly from the  griddle. "Besides isn't blueberry your favorite? Here, and I got your  favorite whipped butter too," she said, plunking down a plastic tub of  the good stuff in front of me.

But that was when I saw the ring on her hand. A shiny gold band adorned her ring finger, with a big diamond poking off of it.

"Mom," I gasped, my voice trailing off. "What is that?"

"What is what?" she asked sweetly, pretending that she didn't know, looking at me quizzically. But I wasn't playing games.

"You know!" I said, staring at her hand. "Where is that from? Who gave it to you?"

"Oh honey," my mom giggled. "It's from Mr. Markham, who else? The man  that I work for at Markham Estates, you know, the one I've been seeing."         

     



 

I was taken aback. I wasn't aware that my mom was "seeing" someone, I'd  thought it was fly-by-night sex at best, billionaire magnates don't date  their cleaning ladies. So I shook my head slowly at the Cinderella  fantasy.

"No seriously Mom, where did you get that?" I asked, my brows lowered.  Stealing from clients is a crime. Not many cleaning ladies do it because  the risk is too high, losing a steady job isn't something most of us  can afford. So I was worried, really worried, that my mom was off her  rocker and had put our livelihood in jeopardy by swiping the client's  stuff.

But my mom was in a good mood and wasn't going to entertain my grilling.

"Honey, Drake Markham asked me to marry him last night and I said yes!" she trilled. "Aren't you excited for me?"

I shook my head resignedly.

"Mom, this isn't a joke," I reprimanded. "Where  …  did  …  you  …  get that ring?" I finished in a huff.

But my mom just pooh-poohed at me.

"Cleo, you're always stuck in the mud," she said. "Drake Markham gave it  to me, didn't I tell you already? We're getting married," she repeated,  and with that, laughed and started dancing around the kitchen, the  trailer bouncing on its wheels from her excitement.