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It was wrong. So wrong.

Nicole lay on her bed, hating herself even as she touched herself. Her heart pounded. What was she doing? Danny was her stepson. He was barely more than a kid for God’s sake. But, hell, he looked good. Too good. Young and toned and tan. Dark eyes and hair. That sweet, kissable mouth. An image of him using that mouth on her pussy made her groan, and she couldn’t help but slip her fingers beneath her panties to rub her swollen clit. Damn her, but she wanted him. She wanted to show him what it was like to be with a real woman, rather than a college twit with little to no experience. She wanted to blow his fucking mind.

And his cock.

Her moan echoed around the room. The room she shared with her husband.

Danny’s father.

She should get dressed. She really should. She had a meeting with her financial advisor in an hour. But as she lay there in nothing but her black bra, panties, and thigh-high stockings, all she could think about was Danny. Closing her eyes, she began reluctantly fingering herself. Slow at first and then faster. Small, traitorous whimpers escaped her as she imagined it was Danny’s fingers in her instead of her own. He would be a little shy. A little overwhelmed. And horny as hell. As only a barely legal boy could be.

Downstairs, a door opened and a voice called, “Dad? Nicole? You home?”

Nicole froze. It was Danny. Oh God, it was Danny. He wasn’t supposed to get in until this weekend. Her cheeks warmed as she realized that the object of her mid-afternoon fantasy fingerfuck was standing right below her. Her first impulse was to scramble off the bed, get dressed, and go greet him like a normal step-mother would. Maybe offer him a snack. Cookies and milk.

Or her pussy.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she groaned, both from frustration and desire.

“Nic?” Danny called, coming up the stairs. “That you?”

Her heart lurched as dangerous, treacherous thoughts taunted her. She could have him. Right here and now. Danny wouldn’t say no. She’d seen the way he looked at her. The way his eyes strayed to her ass when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or the way he watched her mouth when she was talking. They could do dirty, dirty things on the bed she lay in. Nobody ever needed to know.

As quickly as she thought it, shame washed over her. No, this wasn’t her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who had sex with nineteen-year-olds while their fathers were on business trips. She hurried to sit up, reaching for the sheet just as Danny knocked on the open door. “Nic, do you happen to know where my soccer—” His voice abruptly cut off when he saw her.