Hot Stepbrother Daddy Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Lena Little Advertisement1

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I try to force my mind onto anything else but Adam—movies, upcoming concerts, my social life—but none of it seems to stick. Not with the image of him so recently in my mind. As I wash my face, I consider how good he looked, how polished and well, hot. It made me want to make him messy in all sorts of ways that are now totally forbidden.

But what exactly makes them forbidden?

When I think of the word forbidden, I think of being told I can't do something. But the only person telling me I can't pursue Adam is myself. He didn't say anything about us being off limits, although he was clearly as freaked out by the stepsibling thing as I was.

But then I remember how pissed he was when he confronted me about running away. The hurt in his eyes, the way he seemed desperate to know why I left. The simple truth was that I was a coward. Falling for someone like Adam flew in the face of everything I was trying to accomplish moving to New York to pursue fashion.

I had no idea how much he would haunt me. How much I would think about his kisses, his hands on my skin, how he filled me up so well.

Ugh! I hate it. I hate him. I hate myself for running away.

Now I'm stuck with him for the foreseeable future, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Frustrated and wrung out, I brush my hair and teeth and climb into bed. I let out a long breath, trying to let the tension go, but it follows me into sleep. And before I know it, I’m dreaming.

I fell into the memory, and it was like I was experiencing it all over again.

It started in the brewery where my friend, Elise, had taken me for my last night in town. I was in Charleston for my mother's birthday the previous day, but had gotten the last-minute invitation from Elise that morning. I was due to be on a plane back in the morning and hadn't planned to be out all that late, but time had gotten away from me.

Elise and I were with a group of friends and acquaintances, and I lost track of her when I spotted another large group at the other end of the bar, all dressed in business suits and clearly celebrating something.

And then I see him, standing at the back of the group, his tall frame almost towering over everyone else. He looks at ease, smiling and laughing, but for some reason, he stands out like a beacon. And when he catches my eye across the crowded bar, something in my chest seizes up.

The connection is instant, and I watch his smile fall and get replaced by something much more serious. With black, perfectly cut hair, a dark shadow of stubble on his jaw, and evergreen eyes, he was the sexiest man at the bar by far. But that shouldn't have mattered to me.

I swore off men when I moved to New York to try and get my fashion career off the ground, wanting to focus on my work and nothing more. It was how I ended up a twenty-four year-old virgin at the time, and why I was so thrown off by how strongly I was drawn to Adam.

Then, to my shock, he pushes through the crowd to reach me.

My heart is racing when he makes it to my side, even hotter and more intimidating now that he's up close. But there's something else about him, too, an easygoing nature beneath the professional veneer.

And he only has eyes for me.

"Do I know you?" he asks, waving the bartender down. "I feel like I know you, but I also feel like I'd remember if I'd met the most beautiful woman in the world before."

I laugh. "I believe we're strangers."

"Well…" He accepts two glasses full of amber liquid on rocks from the bartender, handing me one. "Let's change that. I'm Adam, and that is some of the unreasonably expensive scotch I bought a bottle of to share tonight. We're celebrating."

"Laurie," I answer, taking the glass. "And what are we celebrating?"

"My father is finally preparing to retire, and he's splitting ownership of the company between my brother and me."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well, congratulations, then."

Adam raises his glass to mine, smiling. "To new beginnings."

The glasses clink, and the rich taste of scotch slides across my tongue. The liquor burns, but I swallow it down, feeling the warmth in my belly almost instantly.

"So" —he leans against the bar next to me, looking out at the crowd— "you're from around here?"

I consider lying—most people around here recognize me as the Cartwright heiress—but he hasn't noticed yet. I decide to play it by ear. "Born and raised. What about you?"

He shakes his head. "Moved here a few years back when my dad opened a new branch of the company."


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