Stepdaddy Savage Read Online Free PDF Page A

always keeping me at arm’s length, as if I did something wrong.
    “Baby, you’re a big girl. You don’t need me and neither does Graham. He’s married to his business anyway.”
    “He is also married to you.” I cock an eyebrow and she shrugs in response.
    “Just on paper.” Mom jerks another one of my drawers open and plucks out a few more skimpy pool outfits. “You and I both know that. I mean, I tried, sweetie, I really did. God knows I did my best with this guy. I wanted us to be a real family, ya’ know? Give you the whole experience I had when I was a kid, Dahlia. But Graham…he’s wired differently. I’m not even sure how to explain it, but this…” She motions with her index finger toward her body, emphasizing her tits and ass. “He never really found me all that interesting. Didn’t work for him, I guess. Shame, but that’s how it goes. Anyway”—she waves her hand dismissively, like she’s over the subject—“I’ll be back in a little more than a month and then, I promise, we will so get to sit together and enjoy each other’s company. I know I haven’t been the most present mom in the world, Dahl, but look how good you turned out. I must’ve done something right!”
    No, I want to scream. I did something right. You just sat there and didn’t even ask me how my day was when I got back from school. If you were even home.
    “Have fun,” I grit finally. On some level, I really do wish her the best. I pity my mother and her inability to be in touch with her feelings. So much so that she’s flushing her relationship with her own mother and her only daughter down the toilet to go spend time with a man who is half her age and will probably leave her the minute he finds something more lucrative to do. Or someone .
    I spend the rest of my day aimlessly looking for college courses in New York City on the Internet. Trust me when I say there’s nothing I’d like more than to take out my PocketRocket and drill it into my clit until I scream Graham’s name so loud the walls will shake, but I can’t.
    I can’t take a chance of him hearing me or catching me doing it again.
    I’m so engrossed in reading about a college in Brooklyn that’s offering a pulp fiction course—I have no idea what it entails but I bet there’d be a ton of hipster hotties—that I don’t even notice that I’m not alone in the room anymore.
    “This looks like the shittiest course a person could take,” Graham offers from behind me, and I jump so high I almost reach the ceiling. A yelp leaves my mouth and my heart is racing in my chest.
    “Jesus Christ, Graham. That’s the second time in a week. Do you not have any doors in Ireland? Fucking knock, dude.”
    Oh, great. I mentioned the masturbating incident. Real smooth, Dahl. But as I swivel my chair to inspect him, he looks as stoic and unfazed as ever. And hot. So, super-hot. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled to his elbows, revealing taunt forearms and manly veins, and he’s got his hands tucked into the pockets of his navy blue dress pants. His tie is undone but still hangs over his neck and his green eyes are twinkling. With what, I’m not sure, but they make me feel like I’m on fire.
    No, they make me motherfucking burn.
    “Even a monkey could pass this kind of course,” he continues his line of thought, tilting his chin toward my computer screen and I fake a bright smile, letting my inner sarcastic bitch come out and say hi.
    “Good news for me, then,” I mutter.
    “You can do so much better.” His voice is low and gruff, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment. More like a statement. “You’ve got potential, kid.”
    “Oh, are you wearing your stepdaddy hat tonight?” As opposed to the “guy who watched me masturbate” hat. I liked that hat better, but of course I don’t mention it.
    “Busting my balls and it’s not even eight p.m. What’s going on, Dolly ?” It’s the second time he calls me that. “Need to unwind a