20 Book Taboo Romance Box Set
By Virginia Steply
Copyright 2015 Virginia Steply
All Rights Reserved
Warning! This TABOO box set includes themes that may not be suitable for all audiences.
Table of Contents
Punished By My Step-Daddy
Dirty, Naughty, Sexy, Steps
Trained by my BIG Step
Sins Between Steps
Step-Brother Heat
My Step Sex Teacher
Bound By My Step-Brother
Daddys Naughty Little Girl
Hot Flow
Anything For Daddys Little Girl
More Than A Step-Daddy
Foreign Affairs; My Italian Step
Craving My Step-Brothers Tool
Step-Brother; Hard Lessons
The Soldiers Little Step
My Step Daddys Secret
What My Step-Daddy Deserves
Three Steps, One Night
Punishing The Brat
Down And Dirty Steps
Punished By My Step-Daddy
My stepfather, Robert, and I had the same routine every morning. I always got up early, and he did too.
I guess other 19-year-old girls spent late nights up with their friends or clicking around on Facebook, or whatever, and then they slept in late. What other kids did didnt really influence me much. I guess it didnt help that most of the spoiled brats at my private high school were obnoxious and poisonously mean. I could care less about what they did when they werent snorting Adderall or whining. Maybe I was just a morning person. I yawned and cuddled a little deeper into the big easy chair, where I was curled up, my legs under a blanket. I could see the sun rising in the cloudless sky, slowly illuminating the Arizona desert outside my window. I liked getting up early, usually a couple hours before school, and getting lost in a book while I drank my coffee.
Now that school was finally out and I was heading off to college in a few months, I still liked to head downstairs and read. On the days I had to lifeguard, I would eventually put my book away around nine or so, then jump in my new BMW and drive to the pool. It was sleek and black and I would have felt totally spoiled and conspicuous driving it, if it werent for the heavily tinted windows, which matched the dark color and personality of the car perfectly. Not that it stood out at the country club anyway, parked next to brand-new Mercedes and Audis.
Everyone thinks your life is so easy when youre rich.
I wondered what would people think if they could see those awful, spoiled kids I was surrounded with at school. The dirty secret of being rich was that your parents were usually too wrapped up in their high-powered careers to raise you properly, or give you real attention; couple that with being handed anything you could ever want, and you had a nightmare recipe for narcissism and lack of impulse control.
Sometimes, I wondered why I wasnt more screwed-up.
My mom was your typical rich dilettante, addicted to Percocet and so self-absorbed that she could barely manage herself, let alone a raise a daughter. Needless to say, Id grown up quickly, figuring things out on my own and becoming independent beyond my years. It was technically my moms job to pay the bills, but she never did, and Id been doing it ever since I was 11 or so.
I still remember the day I started paying the bills: a truly miserable Arizona summer day, a 110-degree scorcher in June, when the air conditioning got shut off. That was a few years before she divorced my stepdad and left the country for Switzerland. I helped support him through the ordeal, and as strange as it sounds, wed gotten close and became a tight-knit family of two. I understood how stressful his job was, and I always tried to make his life a little easier...if those ways didnt quite match your stereotypical bratty-teenager-and-beleaguered-father dynamic-well, that didnt matter to me. We were close. He was the senior sales manager of Arizonas largest evaporative-cooler manufacturer. That was a pretty stressful job. I would be there to help him deal with the days stress, just listen to him if he needed me to.
And I could count on him to spoil his little girl, despite all my protestations.
I looked outside at our quiet neighborhood street. It was in an older, upscale neighborhood, with beautiful houses perched on a desert hillside above Tucson. My stepdad was probably
out for his run. It was Saturday, and he would run as long as he could before heading to the office for a couple hours to keep tabs on things, but the soaring temperatures during the day usually brought him in around ten or so.
Hey, Pumpkin, he said, opening the door. He looked flushed and relaxed after his run, and his clothes were soaked in sweat from the long, hot slog back up the hill to our house.
Hey dad, I said smiling. I fought the shiver that threatened to consume my body. I knew it was wrong, but I couldnt help ittruth be told, I thought my stepfather was hot. Actually, I knew he was hot. He was gorgeous, with a chiseled body, thick blond hair, intelligent blue eyes, and a face that looked as masculine and perfectly sculpted as the rest of him. You look really red, I teased. You know, if you spent less time working out, Id probably have a new stepmom by now.