CyrusThe silence stretched between us for several long moments, and with each second that passed, I grew more and more nervous that she was going to say no.Her expression flickered between so many emotions so quickly, I couldn’t fully decipher what she was thinking.At length, she slowly said, “Are…are you asking me to marry you because you genuinely love me and want to…or are you just afraid of losing me after everything that happened with Ralph?”“Oh, baby, no,” I assured her with a firm shake of my head. “I love you with my entire being, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to raise Megan together and be a family. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with Ralph.”I held her gaze, praying she believed me. I was ready to do whatever I had to in order to convince her I was being entirely serious.To my complete relief, though, her lips curled into a smile, and she blurted, “Yes! Yes, Cyrus, I’ll marry you!”I surged to my feet, pulling her from her chair. Wr
EpilogueSadie – One Year LaterI gazed down at my baby, my son, in absolute wonder. My heart swelled in my chest with so much love, I thought it would burst. I was exhausted, and my whole body hurt, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was my little boy, that he was healthy and whole.“Are you feeling up to visitors?” the nurse attending to me asked in a soft voice, careful as to not disturb my sleeping baby.I smiled at her and nodded. “I am.”“I’ll let them in, then,” she replied with a grin.Turning, she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. I turned my gaze back down to my little boy and couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips.He was so beautiful. Tiny and pink and perfect.I couldn’t wait for his daddy and sister to meet him.At that moment, the door to my room opened back up, and the nurse returned with Cyrus and Megan in tow. Cyrus had been with me during the labor, but had gone out to wait with Megan while the baby was cleaned up so he could bring h
Blurb:What happens when the one person you shouldn't want becomes the only one you crave?Hazel Holland’s life is a mess, and the last thing she wants is to crawl back to her stepfather for help. But Xavier Rochat isn’t just her rock—he’s all broad shoulders, commanding presence, and forbidden temptation. Living under his roof again stirs feelings she knows she shouldn’t have, but she can’t stop thinking about those strong hands and the way his voice makes her knees weak.Xavier has always seen Hazel as the girl he helped raise—but she’s not a little girl anymore. She’s stunning, tempting, and entirely off-limits. Resisting her is a battle he’s losing, especially when she makes it clear she doesn’t want to play by the rules.Their connection is wrong, dangerous, and too hot to resist. But how long can they keep their hands off each other before everything explodes?My forbidden stepdaddy is a raw, forbidden romance full of tension, temptation, and heat that will leave you begging f
Xavier I drop shrimp into sizzling garlic butter, the pan spitting and hissing. The chaos mirrors the storm inside me—anger at Melanie’s selfishness, carefully hidden for Hazel’s sake. I sip my riesling, keeping my calm façade intact.When dinner’s ready, I call Hazel and plate the food. Her familiar footsteps on the stairs are comforting, but when I see her, I freeze. For a moment, it’s Melanie—the same bright red hair, slim shoulders, and lean frame. Hazel has grown so much, and for a fleeting second, I almost imagine my wife is back.I serve the pasta and pour another glass of wine, offering Hazel a smile. She’s so much like Melanie it’s startling. The resemblance is uncanny—her body slim and delicate, yet striking—but her face is softer, her icy blue eyes wide and innocent, free of Melanie’s hardened edge.Hazel devours the meal like she hasn’t eaten in days, and worry twists in my chest. How could Melanie abandon her own child?“What did your mom say before she left?” I ask, alr
Hazel“It’s not a thing, honest,” I say quickly. My foot starts tapping nervously of its own accord. “We just, um…we just kissed once, and now we’re friends.”I turn my face to the window, heat fully spreading over my cheeks. Why am I even telling him this? That I was kissing someone? Where are my boundaries?“You kissed?” He sounds surprised. For a moment neither of us says anything, and the awkwardness in the car gets hot and palpable. “That’s not nothing, sweetheart,” he finally continues. “Kissing is, well, it means something.”“Oh my God, stop please.” I cringe and turn further towards the window. This is too uncomfortable. I cannot have this conversation with my dad.Luckily for me, he doesn’t push it. He laughs, probably not wanting to have this conversation either, and says, “Okay, fine.”I turn on the radio and he asks me about my day, and when we get home and get out of the car, he looks over at me with a curious look and says, “Kye, eh?”I roll my eyes. “Oh my God, stop.”B
The comment takes me by surprise, but pleases me. I know I can never really be Hazel’s father, but all I’ve ever wanted is to make her feel safe.“Okay, good.” Annette closes her notebook and slips it into the large tote bag at her feet, standing up. “You have my number.” She looks at me. “If you hear from Ms. Holland in the next few days, please give me a call. Otherwise, I’m happy to know that Hazel has a safe place to be, and this is our goodbye, since somebody is turning eighteen soon.” She grins at Hazel, who smiles back.Eighteen years old. Technically an adult. Maybe that’s what Melanie was thinking when she left. That Hazel was old enough. That they’d gotten close enough to the finish line that Hazel could make it on her own from there.I shake the social worker’s hand and walk her to the door, feeling a surge of protectiveness for my stepdaughter. I want Annette to leave so that I can be alone with Hazel, so that I can enfold her in my arms and never let her go.Eighteen is n
“Sweetheart, where are your underpants?”“What?” she groans plaintively.“Your underpants. Are you wearing your mother’s?”She pulls the covers down to her chin and squints at me. “Why are you looking at my underwear?”“I saw them in the laundry room. Where are yours?”She shrugs. “Those are mine. Melanie threw my old ones out and gave me those.” I blink at her. It doesn’t make any sense yet it’s perfectly Melanie. “She said they were more grown-up and she was getting new ones anyway.”Tension pulls at my shoulders and my jaw. Everything about this is fucked up, but if I speak I’m afraid I’ll say something I regret. I close the drawer without further comment and manage to say, “Get up and get dressed, and then come down for breakfast.”Then I grit my teeth as I leave the room, biting back the confusing tide of both anger and arousal that’s rising up in me.****Later that week, I decide to work from home to take care of a few things around the house. I’ve been working from home more s
When we get to the house, I insist that Hazel sit at the dining room table and start her homework, a habit I’m trying to re-instill. In so many ways, her year away with Melanie has rusticated her; she’s like an escaped animal who’s gone feral. I have to retrain her on all her old, good habits.I sit across from her where my laptop is already open on the table, and take a moment to watch her. She’s completely unselfconscious, her head bent over her work thoughtfully as she scrawls notes on a page. She bites her bottom lip, two white teeth stabbing the swollen flesh of her full lip, and her hair—pulled back but coming loose—drapes over the sides of her face. Her mother’s brilliant red hair. A little Melanie, but one who’s sweet, and unjaded, and sincere.When she finishes her work, I close my laptop, too. “Spaghetti for dinner?” I ask, and she nods happily. I’d almost forgotten what a pleasure it is to cook for her, how making dinner for her night after night had always been one of my g
Xavier when we get home on Sunday, I haven’t given a second’s thought to Melanie. It hasn’t occurred to me to wonder if there might be some sign of her left behind, if she could have maybe forgotten something—maybe even left a note. I’ve been so completely transported by the events of the past twenty-four hours that I’ve practically forgotten about her.So it’s a shock when I unlock the door and walk in to find Melanie waiting in the kitchen.“Hello!” she trills from a stool at the kitchen island, lifting both hands and one foot in an overly-exuberant greeting, as if we’d be happy to see her. Her phone and a glass of wine are on the island in front of her.“Melanie,” I say, stunned. “What are you doing here?” My lawyer was supposed to have her escorted off the premises. It occurs to me I haven’t even looked at my phone since last night, I’ve been so utterly consumed by Hazel, fucking her again and again over the course of the night and this morning until she complained that her pussy
“Yes.”“And you’re on the pill?”Understanding dawns in her eyes. “Yes.”“When I come, I want it to be inside of you, Hazel.”She pauses. “Okay, Daddy.”I can’t help but smile. “That’s good, baby. That’s very good.” I press the head of my cock harder against her hole, until I can feel her resistance. “I’m not going to wear a condom, because it’s different with us, okay? I’m not some boy doing God knows what. I’m your daddy who’s going to take care of you.”“Yes, Daddy,” she breathes again.“That’s good,” I murmur, caressing her cheek with one hand. “You’re such a good girl, Hazel. You’re so good to your daddy.”I push against her entrance, feeling the squeeze of her pussy as I slide into her slowly. She pinches her eyebrows together, looking strained, and I slow down. Grown women with lots of experience sometimes have trouble taking my cock. It’s something that I’m used to.“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “I’m going to go really slowly. Just relax.” I push in a little deeper, the tight b
“Yes.” My voice is almost a whisper. I can hardly hear it over the pounding of my heart. “Yes, Daddy.”He smiles slowly. “That’s good. What I really want is to be your daddy in every way, Hazel. I want to comfort and care for you, and love you, and I want to play games with you, games I think we will both enjoy, things we’ve tried out a little already. I want to be your daddy in bed, and I want you to be my little girl. Do you want that, too?”“Yes,” I breathe.“That’s good.” He takes another sip of his drink and then places the glass on the nightstand between us. “Then in that case,” he says. “You’re going to be a good little girl for me tonight.”#Xavier #it’s a relief to let go, to drop the burden of self-control. To lay down the mantle of responsibility and honour and just say, fuck it.Hazel’s safety and wellbeing comes first. I will always care for her and protect her, but knowing that she wants what I want, that she’s as eager to be my willing little girl as I am to be her b
“Hazel.” His voice is soft but censorious, a father gently correcting a child, but something inside me is breaking open; something that can’t be contained. I love him. I love him with a kind of fierceness that can’t be locked up or tamed.“Xavier.” I match his tone. “Don’t you know everything’s different between us? I can’t pretend we’re the same as we were before. I can’t pretend I don’t love you, and I don’t want to. What if it…what if it wasn’t a secret anymore?”He closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath. “Sweetheart. You know how I feel about you, but look around. We don’t live in a world where this is okay. And with your mother gone, I want you to know that I will always be there for you, okay? As…as a father.”“I know, Dad.” I tighten my arms around him, squeezing him before I ask the question that might make him pull away from me. “I know you will always be there for me. But I don’t want to stop what we’re doing. I…want you. Even if we have to do it in secret, then fin
The wedding is a short Uber ride from our hotel at a winery. Guests in their finery are milling all over the place, inside and out, and it’s clear the entire space is rented out just for the wedding. White ribbons billow from every post, and strings of Edison bulbs sway in the wind above us. Xavier doesn’t wait for a server, and walks right into the main room, ordering a scotch from the bar. When the bartender offers me a glass of wine, Xavier answers for me. “She’ll have a Coke.”We head outside, towards the back where white wooden chairs have been set out in neat rows below a makeshift ceiling of string lights, and I trail after Xavier as he circulates among the guests, introducing me to the people I don’t know and reminding me about the people I do. It feels a little like a game of make-believe, and I wonder if anyone would believe I’m Xavier’s date—except that he keeps introducing me to people as his daughter.When a woman in a headset with a clipboard starts telling us to take ou
“Babe,” she resists, blinking nervously. She knows me well enough to know when I won’t back down.I take a step forward. “I’ll call Patrick to take you to a hotel tonight.” Our family lawyer, Patrick, is well known to Melanie. “Tomorrow you’ll find accommodations for yourself. You will not speak to Hazel, you will not show up on our doorstep, and any future communication will go through Patrick.”She twists her mouth, furrowing her brow. Frustration is etched all over her face. “You could have had it all and now you’re going to throw it away?”I take another step forward, dwarfing her with my full height. “Could have had what?” I ask menacingly. “You and your daughter? She’s not yours to sell, Melanie.”“I’ll use it against you,” she threatens. “I’ll destroy you!”“I don’t care what you do. You think you can send any storm my way that I can’t weather? Do your worst. But don’t you dare try to use Hazel as a pawn.”She steps back. “You’ll have to pay me more alimony to shut me up!”“The
She sighs. “The point is this: We could both have what we want in this marriage, if you can just expand your definition of what a marriage is.”I roll my eyes, pulling my hands away. “Didn’t we try this already?” Years ago, at Melanie’s insistence, we’d tried swinging and I’d hated it.“See what you’re doing? You’re closing your mind already. You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”“Fine.”She continues. “I miss our lifestyle. I love being the wife of big, strong, rich Xavier Rochat.” The description irks me—those three things are all I am to her. “But we could lead separate, independent lives. Free to see or fuck other people if we want.”“But I don’t want that, Melanie. I’ve never wanted that.”She leans in, a satisfied look on her face like she knows she’s about to score the winning goal. “But don’t you? With me as your wife, Xavi, it doesn’t look weird for Hazel to be living here. No one will raise an eyebrow. What you do behind closed doors, no one will know about. I’m the pe
Xavier i’m surprised to find Melanie sitting at the kitchen island when I come downstairs. I’ve worked out, showered, and done a couple of hours of work at my desk but it’s still only ten in the morning. Melanie almost never gets up before noon.“Good morning,” I say civilly. “Coffee?”“Please.” She widens her eyes emphatically. “I’ve missed good coffee.”I don’t take the bait. I don’t ask more about her life in New Mexico or why she didn’t have good coffee, I don’t even return her smile. I just load up the Nespresso and pour two cups.“Hazel and I will be out today,” I tell her as I pass her a mug, and I don’t miss how her eyes flash up at me with sudden interest. “We’re going to Sarah Kearns’ wedding.”“Together?”The way she asks the question takes me by surprise, as if there’s something unusual about it. “I don’t have a date. Thought it might be fun for Hazel.”“Hm.” She takes a sip of her coffee, both hands wrapped around the mug. The oversize white dress shirt she’s wearing sli
I pause for a beat. He knows about it, of course, because he pays for it. It just seems like an out of the blue question. “About a year,” I answer.“And you take it every day? The way you’re supposed to?”“Yes.”He strokes harder, faster, his eyes glazed and distant as he looks at me. “That’s good. And when you had sex with Dante, where did he come? Inside of you?”“Yes.” For some reason, this line of questioning makes me nervous, like I might be in trouble. Lines seem blurred. But there’s an urgency to Xavier’s question; thinking about it is turning him on. “But in a condom,” I add.“That’s good,” he breathes, voice quivering. “That’s good, baby.” His brow furrows deeply, as if he’s in pain, and his breath starts coming in hard, rough pants. “Show me how good your tits feel. Squeeze them for me. Let me see you play with them.”Lifting my hands, I cup each one, rubbing and massaging them while my stepfather stares with rapt attention. I have a terrible thought, a thought I feel guilty