Loving the Man of the House (Forbidden Fantasies #82) Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
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Xenia’s a special friend of mine because once upon a time, she used to be my boss. Well, not boss, exactly. She was a pre-K teacher at Apple Tots while I was an intern, but she was never really managerial. We were more friends than anything, and got to be chummy.

So chummy in fact, that I wasn’t surprised when Xenia told me she was quitting Apple Tots. After all, my friend had recently begun dating the five men of the Cannon Biker Gang in Chicago, and she’s utterly in love with them. They invited her to move into their clubhouse to be their full-time lover, and Xenia couldn’t pass up the opportunity. As far as I know, she adores being with her boyfriends on a 24/7 basis, and yes, she’s dating all five of them simultaneously. She takes them one on one, two on one, three on one, and of course five on one. Another woman wouldn’t be able to handle the sensuality, but my buddy’s not like that. Xenia is up for the challenge, and has never looked happier in her life.

But now, I need to focus on the situation before me because my friend’s dropped me off in Oakdale, and I’m planning to surprise Harris. My stepdad has no idea that I’m coming, and excitement buzzes in my veins as I walk up the path to the front door.

I ring the doorbell, but no one answers. Hmm, that’s weird. It’s Saturday, so maybe Harris is running errands. With a smile, I fish my house key out of my pocket and insert it in the lock. Then, the door swings open and I step into the house I’ve considered “home” for years now.

It looks the same. I see Harris’s blue coat draped over a chair in the kitchen up ahead, and yup, that’s his golf set in the corner of the dining room. There’s a mess of papers on the table too, so he must be working hard at his business.

Slinging my overnight bag on my shoulder, I stride into the kitchen. It’s the same too, with marbled grey countertops and a comfy breakfast nook in one corner. But then, a flash of orange catches my eye, and I stop short. What is that?

Slowly, I walk to the breakfast nook and pick up what looks to be a child’s Halloween costume. It’s cute, certainly, because this is a pumpkin costume complete with a head piece that looks like a stem, and a puffy orange felt body resembling a giant pumpkin. But who would wear this? It looks about the right size for a small child.

I put it down, and then something on the kitchen counter catches my eye. Slowly, I move forward and see that it’s an open lunchbox, but not just any lunchbox. This appears to be a Paw Patrol-themed lunchbox, complete with a cartoon bulldog riding in a bulldozer, and a spaniel flying in a pink helicopter. Even crazier, there’s a packet of chips inside, as well as a baggie with half-eaten goldfish crackers. Who does this belong to?

My heart’s thumping as I spin around in the kitchen. Clearly, a child’s been here, but whose child? And why would Harris have a child visiting? I know he has a sister somewhere, but I thought they were estranged. I’m not even sure if the sister has any children because I’ve never met her.

My heart thumps as my pulse races. The name on the lunchbox says “Harmon,” and I squint. Wait a minute. What kind of name is Harmon? Do I know a Harmon? No, I don’t.

But then, the door to the house opens, and I hear a telltale jingle as Harris tosses his keys in a bowl by the door and shucks his jacket off. To my surprise, the patter of little feet hits my ears, and before I realize it, a little boy has burst into the kitchen.

“Daddy,” he lisps. “Who is this?”

He cocks his head at me, and as my heart pounds in my chest, I see that the little boy has Harris’s dark hair and bright blue eyes. Not only that, but the shape of his mouth and nose are the same, as is the keen intelligence in his gaze.

Harris appears in the kitchen doorway then, and when he sees me, his face drains of all color.

“Mari?” he rasps. “What are you doing here? It’s October. I thought we weren’t going to see you until Thanksgiving.”

I stare right back at him, my mouth agape.

“I decided to surprise you,” I say in a low voice. “But it seems that I’m the one in for a surprise, aren’t I?”

An anguished look comes over my lover’s handsome features.

“Mari,” he says, “I swear, I can explain.”

I shoot him a piercing look with my mouth in a grim line.

“You better because if I’m not mistaken, Harmon is your child.”


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