Step-Savage (Wanting What’s Wrong #6) Read Online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Sports, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
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Something flickers behind his dark eyes as I gather up my backpack from the passenger seat and step back out into the alley.

“Guess you’ll need a lift, sis. Didn’t think I’d be doing all this big brother saves the day stuff so soon.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not having the best day.”

“Well, let’s see if I can change that. Come on, Mom and Dad are waiting.”

Gulp.

CHAPTER 2

James

I just got a hard-on for my new sister.

I knew I’d be meeting her today, but I never expected her to give me a woody and a nice handful of one of the softest asses I’ve ever touched as I boosted her pint-size body up into the truck.

She’s fucking fun sized with an emphasis on the fun. I could mount her on my dick and use her like a human Fleshlight except with tits and a crazy little smile that makes me wonder if my mom had it wrong when she told me she was twenty.

She looks fucking young. Too fucking young. But maybe that’s her cherub round face, those blond little curls that frame her pink cheeks and the fact that the top of her head barely brushes the bottoms of my pecs.

She’s a doll. A life sized, boner inducing, doll.

That is now my stepsister.

What. The. Fuck.

I crank up the A/C, trying to knock out the ball of heat exploding in my chest as she swings her feet next to me like a toddler, humming a Taylor Swift song as I take us onto the freeway toward my mom’s place.

It takes an act of God to get me to look twice at a woman these days. I’m so focused on achieving my goals, on showing I’m more than just a thug with a temper. There’s no space for women, even as a distraction. But here’s this little curly blonde baby-doll in all her doe-eyed innocence and I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life.

A girl.

No, woman.

She’s twenty, I remind myself. Thank fuck.

She’s hiding herself under that sweatshirt, but my hands have already memorized the feel of her sweet ass. She’s as curvy as a soft minute under there and I want to strip her naked and bury my boner into her morning and night until she understands this is her life now.

I wanted to mount her ass on my face and explore her from clit to pucker for the next fifty fucking years.

But, this isn’t going to happen. No fucking way.

I am not a slave to my dick. Not like half the guys on the team, laying it down with a different puck bunny every night. Meaningless sex was never a draw for me. I think it had something to do with the fear of knocking a girl up and having to spend the next eighteen years raising a kid I didn’t want.

I’m not a bastard, not really, I just don’t want fucking kids. Never did.

But, the way my balls are crawling around inside my Levi’s right now, they may have found a new reason for producing all those little breeding soldiers I’ve never released into the bare wild of any woman before.

I’ve had my share of attraction, I’m not dead, but not like this. Is it the fact that she’s my new stepsister? That whole get-it-on-with-family kink kicking in?

I don’t think so.

Ever since my little brothers went to live with our father in Anchorage children were not in my plans. I spent too many years raising Jacob and Joseph while my mom worked two jobs and went to school.

I’ve parented enough, and once my career took off, that’s been the love of my life. Hockey and winning. Getting that cup secured for our team for a second year in a row. Getting the team captain position.

Hockey is my muse. Or it was. It is, I mean.

Fuck, she’s got me feeling things and I want to know how she tastes more than I want that next win.

“Sorry for the trouble. It’s been a wild day,” she says with a voice that makes my dick spurt cum into my boxers.

Fuck, she’s sexy yet sweet. The kind of girl you want to rail in your backseat and spit in her mouth while she calls you Daddy, then take her home to Mom for Sunday dinner.

“Sorry isn’t necessary. I was right around the corner. You were in trouble, I saved the day. You owe me now.” I give her a wink and see her flinch.

Am I scary or has no one ever winked at her before? Maybe both, considering the way her cheeks are turning pink and she’s nibbling her lip.

“Well, that’s not exactly appropriate, is it? Telling me I owe you for helping me. So much for brotherly love and chivalry.”

“You want me to show you my chivalry? It’s big. I’ve got brotherly chivalry coming out of my—”


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