Step Scandal - Part 3 Read Free Page A

in.
    Within minutes, we were both naked, our lips tasting one another in the darkness of his apartment bedroom. He rolled on top of me, his hardness teasing my arousal as we brushed against one another. The hint of moonlight that trickled in through the break in his curtain windows illuminated the scabbed anchor tattoo healing on his forearm.
    I smiled as I remembered what he’d once told me about tattoos. They were permanent to him. They never came off no matter what. Once they were on him, they were there forever.
    He had branded himself with me. We were anchored to one another. For all time.
    “Stop staring at that thing and kiss me,” he commanded, gripping my face with his hands and pulling my lips onto his. “I fucking love you, Harper.”
    THE END!
     
     

 
     
     
    ABOUT THE AUTHOR
     
    Rossi St. James is a twenty-something young woman with a passion for Oreos, crazy, twisted stories, and hiking trails with her two yellow labs, Sunny and Cloudy. When she’s not writing, you can probably find her scouring Pinterest for inspiration for her next book. (That’s pretty much all she uses Pinterest for anyway, as Rossi St. James cannot cook, sew, or craft).
    Email me anytime at [email protected] . I’d love to hear from you!
    Subscribe to Rossi’s mailing list to be the first to hear of new releases, special sales, and contests!

LETTER / THANK YOU FROM THE AUTHOR
     
     
    Dear Reader,
    Thanks so much for reading my book!
    If you enjoyed this story and have a moment, I’d love if you would write a review on Amazon!
    xoxo,
    Rossi
     
    PS – If you haven’t yet read BIKER STEPBROTHER, please page ahead for a little sample!

PROLOGUE - EVERLY
     
    PAST
     
    “Shh…”
    I peeled my eyes open. A shadowy figure lurked over my bed, arms outstretched and pulling me out from under the warmth of my covers.
    “Mom?” I whispered.
    “Hush.” As the figure pulled me closer, I recognized my mother’s scent: cigarette smoke, Charlie perfume, and the permanent cheap beer smell that was always on her breath. “Be quiet , Everly.”
    The moon shined in through the paper-thin curtains of the tiny trailer bedroom I shared with my two stepbrothers, Gray and Little Nash. Space was at a premium in the vintage blue singlewide the five of us shared, but home was home. It didn’t bother me as much as it bothered Gray, but he was older. He knew we deserved better.
    “Where are we going?” I whispered as my mom set me down. At twelve years old I was too heavy for her to carry me very far. I glanced back at my brothers, the only siblings I’d known for the bulk of my existence. Little Nash was ten and Gray was fifteen.
    My hand reached out in the dark as I followed my mom out of my room, and it stopped as it found the splintered hole in the door where the knob used to reside. Big Nash had kicked the door in the night before in a drunken rage. Gray moved the dresser to block the door to protect Little Nash and me, but it only served to make Big Nash even angrier. Little Nash and I hid in the closet, behind the broken door that was barely hanging on its hinges, and when it was all over, we emerged to find Gray perched on the foot of my bed, catching his breath and holding a shaking hand over his purple, swollen eye as blood trickled from his left nostril.
    He always took the beatings for us.
    I planted my feet in the hallway, demanding an answer from my mother as my heart raced with the jolt of adrenaline still coursing through me from being woken in the middle of the night. “Where’re we going?”
    I glanced back toward the bedroom where my brothers were quietly sleeping, none the wiser.
    “I want to say goodbye,” I said, crossing my arms. Mom grabbed the crook of my elbow and yanked my arms apart, jerking me so hard my arm nearly came out of the socket.
    My eyes struggled to adjust to the dark of the window-less hallway. Mom lowered her face to mine and gritted her teeth. “We’re leaving. Do not make a