A Forbidden Tryst (A Taboo Tale #1) by Violet Williams Page B

reduced
to a bumbling idiot.
    She turned onto the back hall, walking past
the projection room and the upstairs Jacuzzi. Sitting like some
sort of harbinger of doom, a wedding picture of Davis and her mom
stared back at her, mere feet from her bedroom.
    Jess never imagined Davis would actually
marry her mother. She’d heard the story a dozen times. They’d met
in a sociology class and had quite the affair and reconnected in a
grocery store years later. The fact still remained that her mom was
a hippy, earthy woman that listened to NPR; he was a suit that
drove a Lexus. Before they got hitched, Jess and her mom lived in a
modest bungalow in the city; he lived in a mansion on the ritzy
side of town. Her mother's 18th birthday present to Jess was a
framed print from a local artist; Davis bought her a brand new
BMW.
    Jess had given Davis a hard time all the
while…it was her job, right? Stepdads and stepdaughters are
supposed to knock heads. But deep down she cared about him and knew
he cared about her mom. And they all lived together like it had
always been that way for a little over a year...until some drunken
asshole plowed into her mother's sedan and changed everything.
    Jess pulled off her robe as she stepped into
her bathroom, the chill of the cool air electric on her skin. Her
own bathroom. Hell, she practically had her own wing.
    And now I'm the bastard
queen , she thought with a bitter chuckle.
She turned the porcelain faucet and jutted her hands beneath the
spicket, savoring the cool lick of water.
    She could still remember the night she'd
decided to fuck her stepfather. She had been on the phone with her
friend Kara, who'd made some offhand remark about how she'd miss
her. Jess had furrowed her brow and told her she wasn't going
anywhere. But Kara had brought up the point that now that her
mother was out of the picture, why would Davis keep her around?
After all he hadn't raised her or anything.
    When they got off the phone, Jess had looked
around her room, looked around at the life she'd grown accustomed
to. Davis wouldn't really kick her to the curb would he? I mean,
they weren't close but he valued her more than a piece of luggage,
right?
    So she'd hatched her plan.
It was a win/win really. She'd always had a fantasy of getting it
on with an older man. And once he slid his cock inside her, he
couldn't just walk away. He'd be hers...until she tired of him .
    Jess stepped into the shower, sighing as the
beads of water pounded her body. She hadn't expected the sex with
Davis to be so good. She'd only fucked a handful of guys and they'd
all been around her age, more concerned with blow jobs and
jackhammering her pussy until they came. There was no romance, no
real connection.
    But Davis had been gentle, caring even. He'd
taken his time.
    She ran her hands over her slick, wet body,
focusing on her rock hard nipples, like he had. First, he'd teased
them with his fingers. Then, he'd flicked them with his agile
tongue, each lick soliciting a moan of pleasure that started at her
core and rippled across her whole body. He’d tugged at her peaks
with his teeth, with just the right amount of pleasure to make her
body tremble and quake.
    Then, his mouth had made a hot trail down her
stomach. He took notice of every square inch of her rock hard abs,
marking each crevice with his tongue. His kisses were soft and deep
and filled with longing.
    When he'd pried open her legs, Jess had been
surprised that he hadn't just shoved his cock inside. She'd only
been eaten out once before, and that was only after she begged for
it. But as his tongue burrowed into her sopping wet pussy, all Jess
begged for was for it not to end.
    Jess found her fingers pumping her pussy as
the water careened over her body. She imagined they were Davis's,
his eyes so green and colored with desire. She leaned against the
walls as she came hard, pretending it was his chest she was glued
to as they came in unison, spent and as close to bliss as one
gets.
    Jess