Cage knew he was bad. Bad to the bone. A cheesy description, but one that fit the underground fighter perfectly. He loved to fight, he loved to f***. Despite his reputation, he tried to stay away from trouble. He usually succeeded. Until the day, trouble found him in the form of a curvy stepsister.
Abigail Snow was a good girl. Straight A student, attending college on a scholarship and… a virgin. When her stepbrother is invited to the Hamptons for a true family vacation, Abby knew she was in for a summer of heartache. He was big and strong with a cocky attitude… he was so fine.
But could he ever be hers?
I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. My body was still hot, my thoughts still churning. Don’t ever believe that girls don’t think about sex as often as boys do. Or that we don’t like it as much. We’re just not as overt about it. Well, some girls were. Like Tiffany and Barbara Ann. They flaunted their bodies like lollipops—offering themselves up for a good lick.
Mean, I know, but true. And who’s not to say I might not act exactly like them if I had their rocking bodies. No, I don’t swing that way, but I was honest enough to acknowledge they were beautiful. On the outside at least. Despite the urban legends, not all girls experiment in college. I certainly had no intention. No, my fantasies revolved around a man like Cage.
My hand slipped down and I touched myself. I wasn’t surprised to find myself slick with need. I immediately zeroed in on my clit. Pressing my fingers inside my pussy didn’t do it for me. I think I was one of those women who couldn’t orgasm without some clitty stimulation. Preferably, with a man’s tongue. I’d never had a boy go down on me. But I wanted to. Oh, yeah, I wanted to I thought as I imagined Cage between my legs. I bet he knew exactly what to do. I could almost feel the broad stroke of his rough tongue as he licked me.
My breathing accelerated as my fingers rubbed harder. I didn’t even need to imagine Cage without his clothes to get off. In seconds, I was groaning low in my throat as my pussy spasmed. Withdrawing my hand from my pajama bottoms, I didn’t know how an orgasm with a man could be any better than that.
But, heaven help me, I wanted to find out.
Preferably with my stepbrother who was sleeping down the hall.
I buried my face in my pillow and thought about what a bad, bad girl I really was.
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~About the Author~
Marie Mason has always known, somewhere deep in her soul, that being a writer was what she was born to be. Thanks to the new and exciting world of self-publishing, Marie was finally able to make her dream come true. Part two of the dream is to be a full-time writer, spending the wee hours of morning creating new and exciting characters for her readers. That part might take a little longer. If you’d like to contact her with a comment or suggestion, her email is firstname.lastname@example.org or you can find her on Facebook.