by K. Webster
Red Hot Winter
Copyright © 2018 K Webster
Cover Design: All By Design
Photo: Adobe Stock
Editor: Emily A. Lawrence,
www.lawrenceediting.com
Formatting: Champagne Book Design
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Synopsis
K Webster’s Taboo World
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
K Webster’s Taboo World
K Webster’s Taboo World Reading List
Books by K Webster
Acknowledgements
About Author K Webster
August is bitter and cold.
Two people he loved most betrayed him.
Winter is hot and sultry.
She’s the enemy’s daughter.
A blowout fight between Winter and her dad sends her straight into August’s waiting arms.
But August doesn’t want to hold her…he wants revenge.
The two are an explosive combination whenever they’re together. August antagonizes and Winter pushes back. Under all the hate burning between them is an attraction so intense, neither can ignore it.
It’s only a matter of time before it consumes them both.
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K Webster’s Taboo World
Welcome to my taboo world! These stories began as an effort to satisfy the taboo cravings in my reader group. The two stories in the duet, Bad Bad Bad, were written off the cuff and on the fly for my group. Since everyone seemed to love the stories so much, I expanded the characters and the world. I’ve been adding new stories ever since. Each book stands alone from the others and doesn’t need to be read in any particular order. I hope you enjoy the naughty characters in this town! These are quick reads sure to satisfy your craving for instalove, smokin’ hot sex, and happily ever afters!
Bad Bad Bad
Coach Long
Ex-Rated Attraction
Mr. Blakely
Easton
Crybaby
Lawn Boys
Malfeasance
Renner’s Rules
The Glue
Dane
Enzo
Red Hot Winter
Several more titles to be released soon!
Thanks for reading!
K
To my husband—the dirty inspiration behind every taboo treat.
August
My daughter Callie chatters on the other end of the line, praising me for being such a good father. For always doing the right thing. Guilt niggles inside me, but I quickly ignore it. There’s no room in my world for guilt.
Aside from my daughter, the only thing I have room for is hate and fury bubbling up inside me. My ex-wife, Jackie, Callie’s mother, is responsible for my rage. She lit the match and tossed it in the gasoline when she decided to not only shack up with my best friend Tony, but to then marry him too. It’s been two years since our bitter divorce and I still get pissed as fuck whenever I think about it.
“She’ll be there after school,” she says, dragging me from my angry thoughts. “I have cheer practice and then I’m going to dinner with Landon, Lauren, and their dad. Do you think you can handle it okay?”
I reach over and grab my tumbler full of whiskey as I stare out the giant windows of my sleek, modern condo that overlooks downtown. It’s the first day of December and it’s snowing. I hate the damn snow. I hate the holidays. I hate fucking everything. “I can handle her fine.”
Back when Tony and I were friends, I thought his daughter Winter was a cool kid. She loved my daughter like a sister and didn’t cause too much trouble. The girl wasn’t on my radar. When the divorce went down, I avoided any and all situations that involved Tony so I didn’t accidentally ram my fist through his nose. But now? Now, Callie says Winter is in trouble at home and needs a place to stay. At first, I’d been adamant about telling my daughter no. Then, the more I thought about it, the more a plan developed.
I’ll piss her off. Rile her up. Tell her what a piece of shit her dad is. Send her back to them with her tail between her legs. It makes me a dick, but I don’t care. They fucking deserve it.
“Dad?”
I sip my drink and then smile. “I said I can handle her fine.”
“I want you to try to be nice, though,” she says softly. “I know things are strained with you and her dad, but please don’t take it out on her.”
“I would never,” I say through clenched teeth. Lies. I’m dying to taunt and terrorize her. Just because I can.
“You’re a terrible liar,” she responds, amusement in her voice. “Luckily, she can handle her own. I’ll call tomorrow to see how it went. Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
“Love you too, kid.”
We hang up and I drain the rest of my whiskey. I came home early from the office for this shit. Once I rise from my white leather chair, I inspect my space with scrutiny. This new condo I was forced to buy after the divorce is perfect for a bachelor like myself. My wife got the house, kept the kid, and moved that motherfucker into my bed. I could have fought for it considering she was the unfaithful one, but there was no way I could stomach being in that house ever again.
So I gave it up and got this two-bedroom condo that cost twice as much as my old house. I went through a bit of a phase where I bought whatever the fuck I wanted because I could. Because I deserved it for enduring what Jackie had put me through. My car is ridiculously overpriced, but I love it. At forty-one, I’m going through some midlife crisis bullshit that was set into motion because of Jackie’s whorish ways.
I crack my neck and stalk through the house. Everything is white and clean. Not a pillow moved out of place. The door to Callie’s room when she comes stays closed because she’s a bit of a mess maker. I let her do her thing behind the door, but the rest of the condo remains immaculate.
The doorbell rings and a sliver of anticipation courses through me. Most men would take issue with terrorizing a sweet, innocent little eighteen-year-old girl. I’m not most men. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
When I swing the door open, all the anticipation deflates like a balloon. A woman with dark bottle-dyed red hair in a black beanie has her head tilted down as she rummages around in her purse. Her shirt is low-cut and her perky tits are on full display despite the fact it’s snowing outside. The black leather jacket she’s wearing is tight and stylish, but I don’t understand how it keeps her warm from the cold. She wears a pair of skinny jeans and some UGGs just like Callie made me buy her a few weeks ago.
I try to flip through all the Tinder dates I’ve had over the
past few months to see if she’s been one of them. Certainly not my type or anyone I’d willingly choose. I might have swiped right for her tits, though. Did we fuck? Is she back for round two? Disgust ripples through me. I wasn’t this man before my divorce. I was fucking happy and loyal. Now, I just drift from woman to woman, unable to let go of my anger long enough to let one get close to me. I fuck and run. They never get a round two.
“Sorry, lady, but I’m going to have to pass,” I grunt out and start to close the door.
Her head jerks up and big brown eyes bore into me. Familiar brown eyes. His brown eyes.
“Winter?” Last I remember, she had fucking braces and brown hair. She didn’t look so…fuckable.
“Mr. Miller,” she greets with a forced smile and then it’s gone. “Thanks for letting me crash.” She starts forward and I block the doorway. Her eyes narrow as she tilts her head up to look at me. My nostrils flare as I inhale the scent of cinnamon.
“I have rules.” My voice is cold despite the way blood rushes to my dick. “Rules that little girls like you have to abide by.”
Her brow arches up in challenge and her brown eyes burn with intensity. “Let’s hear them then.”
Clenching my jaw, I take a step back to put some distance between us and cross my arms over my chest. My gaze falls to her tits.
“For one, you can’t wear that shit in my house.”
She laughs and it sounds sweet almost. Angelic even. That is until she cuts it off and glowers at me. “I’ll wear whatever I want.”
Smirking, I shrug. “Suit yourself. You’ll get the side eye from every rich bitch in this complex.”
Her cheeks redden slightly, her only tell of her embarrassment, before she challenges me with another hard glare. “And why is that?”
“Because this”—I wave at her outfit—“doesn’t belong here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Callie warned me you were a dick these days. I can handle myself with judgmental women. I do it all the time with your wife.”
“Ex,” I snap.
Her laugh is mocking. “Whatever. She’s a bitch too.” She pushes past me, dragging a suitcase in behind her.
Last I remember of this girl, she was a little teenager. Not this…woman. My eyes track her ass as she waltzes through my condo like she owns the goddamn place. Her jeans are tight and hug the round globes of her curvy ass, making my mouth water at the sight. For a brief second, I forget she’s my daughter’s friend—the daughter of the man I hate—and admire her for what she is.
Red. Hot. Female.
My cock is aching and straining against my suit slacks, desperate to pin her against the wall. But I can’t fucking do that. I have other plans for her. Plans that involve using her just to fuck with him.
“First door on the right. Callie’s room. Don’t steal her shit,” I call after her.
She shoots me the bird before disappearing into her room. I scrub my palm down my face and grit my teeth. I’d expected some shy, innocent little thing. Someone easy to fuck with. Not curves and legs and ass and sassy as fuck attitude.
I’m still standing in the middle of the living room when she comes out of the room a few minutes later. Her jacket is gone and I’m awarded too much visual access to her tits. She’s no longer wearing her boots. Walking in just her socks, she admires my space.
“Wow,” she says in a soft voice as she reaches the window. “This is quite the view.”
I can see her reflection in the glass and she’s no longer wearing the snotty bitch look. She’s smiling at the scenery down below. Fuck, she’s pretty. That’s a problem.
“We’re not done talking about the rules,” I rumble as I approach.
Her wide brown eyes dart up to meet mine in the glass. I don’t stop until I’m inches from her. Another step and she’d know just how much she turns me on.
“I don’t follow rules well,” she bites out.
The urge to touch her is strong, so I settle my palms on her shoulders. Tension melts away in her body as she relaxes. Leaning forward, I inhale her hair.
“Here you do. I wouldn’t want to have to punish you for disobeying,” I murmur, my thumbs rubbing into her back of their own accord.
“Out with it, August,” she says coolly. “What are your rules?”
The way she says my name in such a familiar way has some of my control slipping. My hands tremble with the urge to spin her and kiss her pouty fucking mouth. Goddamn, I need to get laid. And not by her. Definitely not by her.
“Clean up after yourself,” I tell her in gruff tone.
“Got it,” she snips. “Easy. What else?”
“You have to clean up after me too. Laundry. Dishes. Cook. The works. Earn your keep, little Winter.”
She breaks from my hold and turns to face me. Her expression is fierce and she tilts her head up to stare at me. “I’m a neat freak. I can live with that. But cook? Hope you like cereal.”
“You can learn,” I tell her in a bored tone. “Like all the other adults of the world. Think of it as practice. So you can be a good little wife one day.” My eyes roam over her cute nose and full, sexy lips.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re condescending as hell, you know that?”
My lips turn up in a devilish grin. “It’s what makes me a fucking monster in the courtroom. It’s what makes me successful in life.”
“Do you like being an attorney?” she asks, genuinely curious.
A frown chases away my smile. “It’s my job.”
“But do you like it?”
“I love it,” I bite out. “Now for my final rule. No boys.”
She snorts. “Don’t worry. I don’t do boys.” Her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips in an inviting way. “I do men.”
Heat burns through me at her words. My hand shoots up and I grip her jaw, shocking us both. Fire blazes in her chocolate eyes when I pull on her jaw, parting her mouth. Dropping my attention there, I roam my gaze over her wet, parted lips. I imagine for a moment what it’d feel like to kiss her supple mouth. She smells like cinnamon. I bet she tastes like Christmas and Hell all wrapped up in one deliciously sinful treat.
“You’re far too mouthy for my liking,” I growl. “I’m dying to punish you for it. In fact…” I slide my thumb over her bottom lip before searing her eyes with mine. Then, I push my thumb past her lips, loving her gasp of surprise that tickles along my flesh.
She grips my wrist, and for a moment, I think she’ll pull me away. Instead, her tongue runs along the underside of my thumb. My cock jerks in my slacks and a groan of pleasure rumbles through me. With her eyes never leaving mine, she wraps those fat, juicy lips around my thumb and slides up and down as though I’m her own personal lollipop. I’m so stunned by her bold move that I jerk my hand away, the pop of my thumb leaving her mouth the only sound in the room.
Her smile is positively wicked and taunting as she steps forward, twists her fist in my necktie, and pulls me close to her. “I like things in my mouth,” she says with a sultry, husky purr. “So if you’re trying to punish me, don’t give me a reward instead.” Then, the sexy look fades as she pierces me with a sharp stare. “And the next time you think you can intimidate me with your misogynistic bullshit, think again.” Her lips turn up in a devious grin. “I’m not like most women. I bite back.”
With those words, she turns on her heel, shaking her ass along the way. I draw my thumb to my lips and run my tongue along the wet flesh. Cinnamon and Hell. Just how I knew she’d taste.
Looks like Christmas is coming early this year.
And my gift is a naughty girl…one I’m going to take immense pleasure in punishing the fuck out of.
Winter
Last night I managed to avoid him and spent the entire evening studying. It wasn’t until I heard his shower running on the other side of the wall that I was able to relax. Callie warned me August was a dick these days, but she didn’t warn me he’d turn my insides to a messy pile of goo. Sure, I’d crushed on him when I was young
er. It was a silly infatuation. So I’d thought. The moment I laid eyes on him yesterday, I realized it was more than infatuation.
My attraction to him almost had me attempting breakfast this morning. But I can’t even figure out his coffee machine. I don’t have to be at school for two hours and if I don’t get coffee, I’m going to murder someone. The only eligible candidate is probably still sleeping in the other room, and based on what an asshole he was yesterday, I’m not opposed to it.
Before I can carry out plans of said murder, his deep, rumbly voice startles me.
“That’s not acceptable either,” he says gruffly.
I whip around and the second I see him, I realize what a mistake that was. He’s already dressed impeccably. His jacket is missing, but he dons a crisp white button-down and a pale gray vest that matches his slacks. The dress shoes he wears are shiny and match his black belt. His tie is a pale pink color. Only August Miller could get away with such a color.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
His gaze slowly rakes down my neck, lingers at my tits, and then travels the rest of the way down. “Your clothes,” he grumbles. “Or should I say, lack thereof.”
“I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” I say with a huff, crossing my arms over my chest. The thin T-shirt feels thinner than usual considering I don’t have a bra on and my short silky shorts reveal just about everything. I’m feeling too exposed around a man who looks that good.
“I’m always up this early,” he bites back as he starts messing with the coffee machine. I watch with rapt attention so I don’t have to ask him again. But I soon lose interest in his task as my gaze falls to his ass. His slacks hug his ass that looks too good for this early in the morning. I haven’t had coffee yet, so I can’t be responsible for my crazy thoughts.
The coffee starts brewing and he turns, leaning his hip against the counter as he regards me. I can’t help but notice the bulge in his slacks. My flesh heats and I bite on my bottom lip to keep from letting out a girly sigh. I jerk my eyes up to meet his blazing green ones. His dark brown hair has been stylishly gelled in a way not many men can pull off. Just-fucked meets boardroom boss is the style he’s sporting. Every male part of him screams to the female parts of me. But it’s a lost cause. My dad fucked him over. And the evil glint in his eyes says he wants to return the favor.