“Hello, Jade. Call me Graham. Mr. Savage was her step-dad.” He cocks his head in my direction, and I giggle. Jade licks her lips and eyes his ass as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I smack my best friend, snatching the bottle of wine from her hand.
“Stop sizing up my man.”
“He really is stupidly gorgeous, you do know that,” she replies like it’s a bad thing, scrunching her face.
“Yes, it’s a problem. When his face is between my legs while he eats me like I’m his least meal, I sometimes yank him up by the hair just to get a kick out of having this gorgeous man serving me like I’m his queen.”
“I hate you. I’ll never have a sex life as satisfying as yours.” She punches my arm lightly.
“I have a feeling that’s not true.” I laugh.
A knock on the door sends our heads flying, and I give Jade the task of chopping the bacon and eggs while I answer the door. Britney and Sarah hug me and they brought a cake for dessert. Five minutes later, Graham climbs down the stairs and join us, having changed from his usual attire of an expensive suit to a pair of dark denim pants, white V-neck shirt and he’s barefoot.
The house is full of people, laughter and banter, and the kitchen is hot with food, and it’s the first time this place feels like a home. I think Graham feels it too, now that I watch him laugh at something Jade said, the wrinkles near his eyes showing that he is genuinely happy.
When the doorbell rings again, he goes to greet his friends, and when they all walk into the dining room, all four of us girls nearly drop our glasses of wines along with our jaws.
Shitting hell, Cole Savage.
If I thought Graham is a hottie, then Cole is a whole different ball game. He is so gorgeous it should be illegal. A cross between Jason Momoa and Brock O’Hurn. I want to cry just from looking at him. Tall as a tree, wide as a fucking building and with a light brown manbun and green eyes. He’s got sexy stubble and a playful smirk. Jesus, this man.
Jade clutches my thigh under the table. “Wherever he’s sitting, I’m sitting next to him.”
“But what about Carter?” I protest on a whisper.
“Fuck Carter. I mean that literally, unless, of course, Cole is game and then Carter can go fuck himself.” Wow. That’s a lot of fucks in one sentence.
“Okay, but what about me?” Jade sat next to me the minute we set the table.
“Honey, I love you, but as of two second ago, you’re no longer my best friend in this room. He is.”
I can’t help but laugh when Graham introduces everyone to each other. He does so with the formality of a European man and I love how he can be both playful and serious. He takes the seat Jade sat in just a second ago and we all dig into the food I’ve made. Looking around me at all these people, I have to admit that I am happy. Genuinely, surprisingly happy. I can get used to that. A part of me is sad that I’ve never experienced it before. I mean, even during Christmas, Graham would have someone set up a tree in our drawing room and we all bought each other presents and opened them on Christmas morning, but that was it. No dinner. No down time together. No nothing.
“So, Cole, tell me what you do.” Jade smiles widely, and hell, she’s pretty. I can’t blame Cole for looking at her like he’s having her for dessert. Only problem is, Carter is sharing the sentiment, which makes them both hungry for the same dish.
“I do whatever you want me to do,” he responds smoothly, winking at her, but not in a creepy way. Jade almost dies right here, while Britney and Sarah giggle. Carter takes a swig of his beer, and the room is so full of hormones, I’m starting to feel mine taking control of my body. I reach under the table and stroke my boyfriend’s inner thigh and even though Graham’s face remains indifferent, he reaches down and stops me, grabbing my wrist in his firm hand. I wince, and when he guides my hand to my own thigh, my eyes widen. I am wearing a skirt, and because of the central heating I didn’t bother with wearing any leggings either.
Shit, I think my plan is about to blow up in my face.
“Tell her more about what you do,” Graham instructs Cole dryly, all while guiding my palm between my thighs still holding onto my wrists. He takes two of my fingers and slips them into my pussy, tugging the left side of my underwear to make room for them. Cole continues talking as Graham forces me to masturbate in the middle of dinner. I flush. I am horny. I am out of my fucking element.
I start panting frantically, feeling my fingers against the wetness of my sex, thrusting into myself all while Graham guides me. I glance at him, panic and lust in my eyes, and see that he is still laughing with Cole about something he’d said and I didn’t hear, his free hand clutching onto his beer bottle.
I’m getting closer and feel my cheeks become rosier and my pants heavier. Oh no. I am going to orgasm in the middle of the dining room at the table. Shit, Graham. Shit, shit, shit.
“And what do you do, Carter?” Jade continues her interrogation of our guests. Jesus, this girl. Carter answers her enthusiastically, but I can’t hear a thing because I’m quivering like a madwoman, on the brink of one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had.
“That’s it, baby,” I hear Graham whispering. “Take it all in.”
And when he says that, he takes my hand, making me shove my fingers into my pussy up to the knuckles and feel how I’m clenching hard against them. I let out a scream, an actual scream, I kid you not, and all eyes move to me quickly.
Oh no.
Oh no.
“What happened?” Sarah asks, standing up. I’d scared her.
“I think I saw a mouse!” I blurt out the first, stupidest thing that goes through my head.
“I think I saw him too,” Cole says with a smile, standing up. “It went out the door. Hey, Jade, wanna come help me look for it?”
Another two weeks tick by, and I’m in love and happy, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m not used to it and fear begins to trickle into my gut. For the first time in my life, I allow myself to feel. I don’t want to lose this. My mom is coming back today and she’s not going to like what she’s going to see.
“I can’t believe we changed the locks,” I mutter, fingering the curtain of what is now our bedroom, looking out and trying to spot her car peeking from the main road.
“She needs to know we mean business,” Graham says simply, putting his shoes at the edge of the bed. He is getting ready for work.
“I’m scared.”
“I told you, Dolly, I’m not leaving you here to take the heat. We’re doing this together.”
I graduated from high school, alone. I didn’t want Graham to come to my graduation ceremony because I thought it’d be too weird after people had spotted us at the coffee shop, and he respected that. Graham and I have been looking for college courses for me in New York, but I was distracted by this moment, and now it’s finally happening.
“She’s here.” I hear myself saying all of a sudden when I see her red Mustang slicing through the landscape of our gorgeous neighborhood. “She’s coming.”
I run to the gate and open it for her, her remote won’t work anymore after we changed our whole security system, and mom parks in her spot next to Graham’s car.
She gets out of her car, without Julio, at least she had the decency to drop him off at home before she came here, and doesn’t even bother to take off her shades.
“Dahl, be a sweetheart and take out my suitcase while I go freshen up, huh?” she says. I follow her with my eyes, Graham by my side. He takes my hand in his, but she still doesn’t notice.
“Oh! Hi, Graham. Hey, did we get new credit cards in the mail? Some of my payments have been bouncing back recently.”
Yes. Because he cut you off, I want to scream.
“Annabelle,” Graham says when she tries to swing the front door open using her keys, but it gets stuck in the hole. “We need to talk.”
She swivels around, finally taking off her shades with a huff.
“Can I just fix myself a drink first? I’ve
been on the road for hours.”
“No, you cannot,” he responds curtly. Like her boss. Which I guess he was a few years ago. “You need to leave.”
She throws her head back and cackles like a hyena. “What? Why would I do that?”
“Because your daughter and I are in love, and you’re no longer welcome in our house. Sure, you can stop by for coffee and spend time with Dolly, I respect that, even encourage it, but that’s it.”
My heart stops in my chest. He just said it. So blunt. So matter-of-fact. Love. That word. That word means everything to me and I didn’t even know that I needed love. I feel the tears tickling my eyeballs, but I don’t cry because it’s easier to hold back a sob when happiness is in your heart.
I see the moment my mom digests all this. Her face whitens and her mouth hangs open, almost comically. She slouches, looking like someone just told her Nana died, and balls her hands into fists.
“What the fuck? Dahlia, have you been fucking my husband behind my back?”
This makes me want to scream. He is not really her husband and she’s the one who’s been unfaithful for years. She only cares because she never stood a chance.
“Mother, you were never a real couple and you know it.”
“You ungrateful, little slut!” she screams, running toward me while waving her fists. Holy shit. I have two seconds to decide what I want to do and I don’t want to punch my mom in the face, so reluctantly, I move away and dodge her hand by an inch. She stumbles forward from the impact but doesn’t fall. When she twists to face me again, I notice her slur and the way her eyes are swimming in their sockets. Fucking drunk.
“Mom, I never meant to hurt you. But I knew you weren’t a real couple. I love him, Mother, I really do. And he promised to financially take care of you out of respect for me.”
“He is thirty-two! You are eighteen! Do you realize how sick that is?!”
Oh, come on! She had sex with men with a larger age gap and we all know that, because some of them were casual boyfriends who I’ve actually met.
“Mom,” I say gently. “He’s all that I have. All that I want. Please, for once, don’t be selfish and ruin this for me.”
“You have me!” she roars louder.
“You’re not around all that much. I’m surprised you even know how old I am, considering I didn’t even get so much as a phone call on my birthday.”
“Please, Dahlia. You don’t care about silly things like birthdays! Is that what this is about? You need some attention so you seduce your step-father?!” She waves her fist again, but this time, Graham steps forward and holds her elbows in place.
“Annabelle, pull yourself together please.”
“You fucked her before you fucked me?” she spits out. “Why? Because she’s younger? Got nicer tits?” You can barely decipher what she’s saying, she’s slurring so bad.
“Ah, whatever. She’s always been a little bitch.” She waves me off and turns around back to the car, and it stings so bad. “You deserve each other, two fucking assholes. I took care of her when no one else did. She ruined my youth. My life. And this is the thanks I get?”
“You’re my mother!” I scream behind her back. “And you did a shitty job. You never asked me how school was, or if I had a boyfriend, or what’s my best friend’s name. You never got me Christmas presents, Graham did. All you did was fuck Julio and lie about your whereabouts.”
“I’m calling the cops!” She’s grasping for straws now, and she knows it.
“Too bad I’m eighteen!”
She doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge me, just gets in her car and zig-zags out of our parking lot.
I stay rooted to the ground, but somehow, even though she’s been nasty to me, the minute her Mustang is out of sight, I feel lighter somehow. I take a deep breath, feeling a smile spreading across my face. How weird. Now why would I feel so…good?
“She’s the past,” I hear my lover say, clasping my hand in his. “And I’m your future, Dolly. Welcome to your future. It’s a lot more fun than anything you’ve experienced.”
Two years later
Graham
“Come on, say it.” The sound of Dolly suckling on my cock almost makes me want to give in and tell her what she wants to hear. Almost.
“You can’t milk it out of me, Dolly, even though that’s what you’re doing, quite literally.”
I gather all her hair up in into a fist, moving it out of her face to get a better look at those perfect, pouty lips of hers. After two years, the sight of her mouth on me still hasn’t gotten old, and I’d venture to guess that it never will.
“Say it,” She demands again between sucks. “Say that you love me.”
“I don’t feel like it,” I reply lazily, gauging her reaction. Of fucking course, I love her, but I love fucking with her, too. Literally and figuratively. That bottom lip of her juts out, and eyes grow wide, before narrowing in irritation. There’s that spine I love so much.
“I hate you, daddy,” she mutters but I just fists her hair, drive into her hot, wet mouth in one, angry thrust and come down that pretty little throat. She sucks my cock clean like a good girl, moaning and groaning. She even zips me up before she come up for air. Her lips are red and puffy, having worked my cock for so long.
“You know how I feel about you,” I say, as I sprawl on my office chair in Hot N’ Bothered, where it all started. She fixes her hair in front of the mirror overlooking the dance floor of my club.
“Yeah, I do,” she responds distractedly.
“And you also know how your mother and I have finally finalized our fucking divorce.” She nods.
Annabelle and I had a bitter divorce, to put it mildly. She tried to take everything she could, and despite the pre-nup, she did manage to snag a few hot properties, two cars and a lot of money. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck. I’ve got my Dolly and that’s all I care about, even though it chaps my ass to see her living a life of luxury when she doesn’t deserve a dime for what she’s put Dahlia through.
“Uhm, where are you going with this, papa?” She teases me, laughing. Some men would probably feel weird about their much younger lover doing that, but not me. Maybe that makes me a dirty bastard, but ask me if I care.
“I’m going to fucking regret it, that’s for sure,” I deadpan, opening the drawer in my desk and fishing out what I need before getting up. She attempts to glare at me, turning around completely, taking me in. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She has no idea what I’m about to do.
I get down, on one knee, just like in the movies. I figure I can give her this much, at least. I’m not exactly Mr. Romantic. As soon as she realizes what’s happening, she starts dancing in place, shifting from foot to foot like a crazy person in what I assume is a happy dance.
“Marry me,” I say—not ask—while opening the little red box where her engagement ring sits.
“Yes!” She shouts, thrusting her tiny hand in my face.
Finally, after what feels like forever, I’m making Dahlia my fucking wife. My wife. Funny how different it feels when it’s real. Marrying Annabelle never felt like a huge sacrifice because I never imagined I’d end up wanting more from a woman than a roll in the hay or two. And let’s be honest, being married to Annabelle never got in the way of that. It took this barely legal, spitfire of a girl to bring me to my knees.
I get up, kiss her deeply, and then pull back, looking into her eyes. Wordlessly, I try to convey what I’m feeling in this moment, knowing without a doubt that she feels it, too. Love. I don’t need to say it, it’s here in the room. Here in my heart. Here, fucking everywhere.
“Are you ready to make me some Savage babies?” I ask, smiling a rare smile into our kiss, and she nods against my lips. She pulls back and her teeth cut into her bottom lip.
“Well,” She rubs her taut stomach nervously. “I think we can count on at least one for sure.” I stare dumbly, trying to process what she’s saying when she pulls something out of the
back pocket of her obscenely short shorts. A pregnancy test? “I was going to surprise you with it over dinner tonight,” she admits as she looks up at me through her eyelashes. She looks equal parts innocent and seductive and holy fucking shit we are having a baby.
It finally hits me, and my jaw drops open. I don’t expect the sudden onslaught of emotion crashing into my chest.
Dahlia takes my shocked face into her hands, lightly raking her fingernails through my stubble.
I fucking love when she does that.
“Say something!” She shrieks, tears swimming in her eyes. “You’re going to be a daddy, daddy.”
I grip the back of her neck and kiss her again like the savage that I am, pouring everything I can’t put into words into this kiss. I move down to the hollow of her throat, nipping, sucking and licking everywhere on my way up her neck and jawline. She lets out a whine and the sound goes straight to my dick. When I get to her ear, I pull the lobe in between my teeth, enjoying her sharp intake of air before releasing it.
My voice is low and gruff when I breathe into her ear, “I was your daddy first.”
When we decided to team up and write Stepdaddy Savage, it was all about having fun with each other and with our readers. Writing books can often be stressful, and the pressure to top your last release is insane. We didn’t want that for Charleigh Rose. We wanted her to have fun, and she did.
We mean, we did.
And here’s a list of people who made it happen: Barbara, our awesome editor. Thanks for having such a good eye for detail and for killing it with this edit. Author K Webster for making this teaser and just for being such an awesome woman. We knew you’d like Graham. You like the taboo stuff.
To Ames, our sweet Beta and the woman of our dreams for making this story better than it was, and to our families, who put up with our long hours of working.
Finally, to you, our new readers. There’s so much more things we wanna show and share with you. Stay tuned.
Love,
Charleigh Rose.
Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3) Page 19