Little Brats: Fiona: Forbidden Taboo Erotica

by Selena Kitt

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  High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!

  Table of Contents

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Little Brats: Fiona

  IF YOU LIKE THIS SERIES, CHECK OUT THESE

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  ABOUT SELENA KITT

  BONUS EXCERPT

  SELENA KITT’S OTHER WORKS

  MORE FROM EXCESSICA!

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  Fiona and her stepfather have always had one thing in common—they are the only two in the family who love sports. Fiona’s mother, on the other hand, would rather go shopping! So when Fiona’s stepfather gets a chance to take her to Lake Tahoe, the two of them plan to spend a great weekend together. But things heat up when they get snowed in, and they find they have far more in common than just a love of sports.

  Little Brats: Fiona

  By Selena Kitt

  IF YOU LIKE THIS SERIES, CHECK OUT THESE

  Little Brats:Anna

  Little Brats: Becca

  Little Brats: Clara

  Little Brats: Christa

  Little Brats: Darla

  Little Brats: Eva

  Little Brats: Georgia

  Little Brats: Hanna

  Little Brats: India

  Little Brats: Jenna

  Little Brats: Kayla

  Little Brats: Leila

  Little Brats: Maya

  Little Brats: Nina

  Little Brats: Olivia

  Little Brats: Paula

  Little Brats: Qesa

  Little Brats: Tina

  Magical Moments

  Camping Brats

  Heavenly Brats

  Traveling Brats

  The Preacher and His Naughty Brat

  The Cougar and Her Cub

  The Nudist and His Princess

  The Man of the House

  “She’s a museum curator—an art-freaking-historian!” Fiona ranted, pausing only to slam her bedroom door. “And what does my dear old mother offer me as help for my art history paper? Books!”

  She tossed three books onto her desk—the ones her mother had handed over when Fiona asked for help—plopping down in the chair at her desk.

  “And now I’m talking to myself.” Fiona snorted a laugh, glaring at the books.

  She was bored to tears in art history—if she had to see one more painting by one of the so-called greats, she was going to scream—but she’d hoped for a little bit of hand-holding help from her mother, the self-proclaimed expert on the subject. Why she’d suddenly become delusional, expecting help from her mother, she had no idea. She chided herself for being surprised and threw open the first book.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hissed, looking at a book written in what she assumed was Italian, from her limited knowledge of the language. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Surely the woman owns the English translation. What the hell?”

  She stood up and turned so fast, her short ponytail whipped around to slap her cheek. She’d rather be off working out at her stepfather’s gym, getting high on endorphins and the sights of sexy, sweaty guys, instead of reading and writing about this anyway. Typical, all she’d gotten after asking for help was more trouble.

  For her own benefit, she slammed the book closed before picking it back up again. For her snotty mother’s benefit, she stomped as loudly as she possibly could in tennis shoes, down the path from her room to her mother’s study. Unfortunately, that only worked well upstairs on the wood floors. Downstairs, on the way to her mother’s office, it was all plush, white carpet that made the effort useless.

  She stopped short when she reached the half-closed door, her mouth dropping open. Her parents were having sex. Her stepfather was fucking Fiona’s mom, right at her desk, with the door half open! Had they no shame? They knew she was in the house!

  As long as she lived, Fiona knew she would never understand why Bryan Nash, former Marine turned low-tech fitness gym owner, had married Aileen Muir, museum curator and uppity snob. It was the worst mismatch she could imagine. She knew her mother had seen the man’s moneymaking potential—which came along with the fortune his family already had. That was a nice perk. But what did Bryan see in her mother? Fiona wondered.

  Still fully clothed, her mother, a tall, curvy blond, bent over her desk. Her hands supported her, though they remained as stiff, as the irritated look on her face. Fiona saw her profile, lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

  Her stepfather held her mother’s shirt up at her waist, revealing only her taut ass, thigh highs, and silk panties, now decorating hundred dollar heels. Her mother spared no expense on herself. The only reason Fiona got the best when it came to her beloved yoga pants, sports bras and tennis shoes was because otherwise she’d be a total embarrassment to her mother.

  Her stepfather’s rock hard ass, tightening and releasing with each thrust, captured Fiona’s full attention. He’d come to this sexual event nude. Completely nude. What the hell? She was right down the hall, for chrissakes! She knew she should turn around and walk away and try to scrub the memory from her mind with a good dose of brain-bleach, but it was Bryan’s chiseled form that caught and kept her attention.

  From the side, she got a decent, delicious view of his six pack abs and every other muscle making up his six foot two, one hundred and ninety pound athletic frame. Not that she hadn’t seen him in workout shorts, all sweaty, a million times before, but this naked man plunging his hard cock in and out of her mother took things to a whole new level. A very wrong, very dangerous, unbelievably exciting level.

  Curious, she squinted to see what she could of his erection. Slick and red, she saw enough to figure him well-endowed, wide and long. Her pussy pulsed suddenly between her thigh, a thick, hard throb, enough to make her stomach flip flop and her sex wet. Fiona wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. She was both disgusted and aroused by the display, two emotions she couldn’t quite reconcile.

  Then her mother turned her head. Fiona’s heart leapt to her throat and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp. Her mother looked right at her! She saw the recognition in the woman’s eyes, but she didn’t overtly react. In fact, she didn’t even flinch. All Fiona could read in her mother’s blank expression was, perhaps, a hint of resentment in the tight line of her mouth, the glare of her eyes.

  Could her mother possibly resent having to have sex with Bryan? But why? The man was a god among men—body and heart, actually. While both commanding and authoritative, she’d never seen
him be anything but soft-spoken, patient and laid back. Smart and down to earth, he let his emotions show, unlike most of the lunkheads he trained. Her mother, if she hadn’t been so self-absorbed and judgmental, might have seen all of that, how lucky she really was to find herself such a catch.

  Fiona’s breath caught as her stepfather stopped. She saw the way his knuckles grew white where he now gripped her mother’s hips, his arm muscles bulging and tense. Her shirt had unfortunately draped over his half in, half out cock.

  “This just isn’t working.” Her stepfather grunted and withdrew. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  His words would have been accusatory from any other man, but he said them without a hint of malice. There was, instead, an overall sadness in his voice.

  “Maybe you’ll finally learn not to interrupt Mommy while she’s working. Why don’t you let Mommy take care of that hard cock for you so then you can leave Mommy alone,” her mother simpered, both coy and cool as she bent to pull up her panties.

  In a ladylike squat, knees together, her mother wiggled her panties up her legs and turned gracefully to put her husband’s cock in her mouth. Fiona was utterly transfixed on Bryan’s erection as it bobbed in the air, hard, long, and damp. The perfectly formed head made her mouth water and she ached to suck on him as well.

  If it had been Fiona doing the sucking, there would have been no holding back. She would have gone to town on that length of pipe like she was trying to suck him dry. But Fiona’s mother wasn’t interested in getting sloppily throat-fucked. Aileen Muir placed her hands flat on Bryan’s thighs, fingers splayed, almost pushing him away, as if she didn’t want to have to touch him at all. Her position, the look on her face, everything, told Fiona that the woman was attempting to dominate him. Even the Mommy thing—Fiona was sure it had been meant to demean him.

  What the hell? Fiona thought, her hand rising absent-mindedly to her lips.

  She wanted so desperately to feel his hard cock pushing into her mouth, into her pussy, as she grew wetter, her pussy swelling and throbbing. She swallowed hard as her stepfather calmly, and with great restraint, slowly pushed her mother off his dick.

  “Not tonight. I’m not in the mood for your games. I’d rather take care of it myself, thanks anyway,” Bryan said softly before he turned and walked out of Fiona’s sight.

  Her mother turned directly to her, wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand, and then gave her daughter a sly smile. After adjusting her skirt, her mother sat down to get back to work. Fiona’s stomach sank and she grew nauseous after seeing a man as great as her stepfather treated like that. By his own wife! Fiona’s mother. Aileen Muir didn’t deserve a man like that, Fiona thought, her hand clenching the book in her fist. She wanted to throw it at her mother’s head.

  The woman was a snobby bitch, always had been and always would be. Fiona had long given up even trying to obtain her approval or attention. She’d never accept, or even try to understand, her athletic daughter who would rather play with some ball and stick, as she put it, and work up a sweat, then hit the books and study something in a far-off ancient language.

  “Well, is there something you want, Fiona?” Her mother’s words were clipped. They dropped like ice cubes from her mouth.

  “No, Mom.” Fiona gave the woman her best look of disgust and loathing, although it was a complete waste of time, because Aileen Muir was looking at the papers on her desk and not at her daughter.

  Fiona finally finished her art history paper, no thanks to her mother, and it was just going to have to be good enough for her college professor, because she wasn’t wasting another minute on it. To reward herself, she went down to the kitchen to make a protein shake.

  She opened the fridge to grab a Greek yogurt, trying to decide between a good run or some time with the weights to work out the frustration she had built up, sexual and otherwise, after seeing her parents together. As she shut the door, she heard the familiar sounds—deep breathing and slow, steady, methodical movements—of Bryan working out in their home training room. He’d built it long before he’d opened his own chain of gyms. That’s where he’d created his low-tech fitness workout method that his gym chains were now known for, from heavy ropes to tractor tires.

  She sighed, touching her mouth again, like a muscle memory, imagining his cock between them, making her lips swell with the hot friction of his thrusts. She put the Greek yogurt back and settled for a bottle of water with a slow smile and a lazy lick of her lips, going off to find him. The gym door was open and she saw his back muscles ripple through a set of sledge hammer swings. Although he moved at a fast, angry pace, he kept his form. She studied him while he didn’t know she was there, drinking the man in with her eyes. How she longed to touch him and be touched by him. How could her mother resist? She didn’t understand it.

  Fiona leaned against the doorway, her chest full of pride and admiration for him, but her stomach clenched at the memory of her mother demeaning him, “taking care” of him as if he were just another job, a box to tick on a checklist. Her mother looked down on him, treating him like some failed project. Fiona knew how that felt, for sure. It made her want to go to him and the urge to hug him was overwhelming. Her mother’s harsh judgment was swift and severe once she realized she couldn’t make either of them like her.

  “Hey, Sarge, you’re puffing like a POG,” Fiona joked, using a Marine insult, one reserved for non-marines, an acronym for “Person Other than Grunt.” They often teased each other this way, but she wondered, after the incident with her mother, if he might take it badly. She waited for his response, holding her own breath.

  “Really? Well, look who’s talking, there, civilian. You obviously haven’t even attempted to work up a sweat yet today,” her stepfather playfully bantered back. His grin set her at ease.

  “No, I have a college degree to earn, remember?” She rolled her eyes. “You were the one who insisted I do college, instead of come work for you, remember?”

  “I did, and still do,” he agreed, his mouth going all serious on her. She liked him better when he was smiling, laughing. He didn’t do that enough anymore.

  “Fine. Then don’t complain when I don’t get here on time. Not like…” she left off, not wanting to even bring up the subject of her mother or complain about the lack of help she’d received. She just wanted to work out with him, like they always did, and forget. “So, whatcha got for me? Make it good. I need to de-stress after that horrid, boring paper I just had to write.”

  “Fine. I challenge you to a medicine ball competition. Fifteen pounds, back and forth, see who can last the longest,” he challenged as he rose to go grab the ball.

  Before she could even agree, he tossed it at her, making the blue and white swirl of the plastic spiral through the air. Her hands out, she fought the instinct to protect herself from the weighted bullet hurling her way, and made a grab for it instead, her palms stopping the speed as she curled it into her chest in the proper form as he’d taught her. She’d held her breath so as not to let out a grunt when the ball hit her chest. Sometimes even his taking it easy could be a bit too much.

  “Good girl,” he praised, and her chest rose with her mood.

  Her heart skipped a beat as he looked her over with approval.

  “You thought I’d let you down, not coming in time?” she huffed as, with her elbows tucked in tight, she pushed out, sending the ball back to him.

  “You never do. You give it your all when you get here, and regardless of how many times I win,” he said with barely a hitch in his voice as he caught the ball. His arms flexed, but he pulled the thing into him as if it was nothing more than a child’s toy filled with air.

  “I hold my own, given you’re ex-military, and I’m ex-debutante.” She threw words back at him as he tossed the ball back at her.

  “Okay, I’ll give you…”

  He’d left off as she caught the ball wrong, tipping her off balance enough that she hit her calf on a swirl of ropes on the floor. As
she tried, with a fifteen pound weight curled in her arm, not to fall over, her stepfather took two long strides to catch her. Pulling her body close, he rolled them onto the floor. With her protected in his arms, she laughed as he grunted when they hit the floor.

  Though his arms remained tight, she wiggled around to face him, more than aware of all his hard edges against her soft curves. While muscled, she had been given by birth the build of her real father, round and soft. While she had a nice rack and ass because of this, she had to battle, work twice as hard, for each muscle she built. She was surprised she could feel the large bulge of his cock against her stomach, even though he wasn’t erect.

  “Why do you let my mother treat you the way she does?” Fiona asked, the words coming before she could stop them.

  “It’s not her fault.” Bryan’s eyes widened only slightly before he shrugged in response. “I pursued her pretty hard. I knew she was out of my league, but… well, I wanted her.”

  Fiona listened, trying to understand. She couldn’t fathom anyone wanting her mother.

  “I knew we were different, but I didn’t realize how much I was going to hold her back from the life she really wants.” He sighed, his big arms tightening around her. “Your mother wants refinement, finesse. She wants a man she can take to dinners, parties, charity events.”

  “She wants a Ken doll.” Fiona rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe…” Bryan snorted a laugh. “But I was the one who let her down. I wasn’t the fixer-upper she thought I’d be. I retired from the Marine Corps, like she wanted me to, but then I started the gyms. She thought it was a good idea. She supported me at first. But I think she figured, I’d get them started and then someone else could do the hard work while we just raked in the money. But I can’t do that. I need to work for a living, not walk around tossing my money at people who feel obligated to call me sir.”

  “I don’t think you need fixing up.” Her brows furrowed as she listened to him take all the blame for her mother’s horrible behavior. He took so much on himself. Feeling his body against hers made her lightheaded, pushing her nerves into overdrive. She had the urge to slither and slide her body against his and fought it.