I WANT YOUR STEP DADDY, BESTIE

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Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Caught in the Dark?

Nadia’s POV

The heavy brass doorknob turned without a sound, and Kane’s broad silhouette filled the doorway.

“Is she out cold?” His low, raspy voice cut through the dark bedroom like a blade.

I sat up slowly against the headboard, the silk sheets pooling around my waist. “Dead to the world. Half a bottle of tequila will do that.”

“Good.” Kane took three quiet steps into the room, his bare feet making zero noise against the rug. “Just making sure my stepdaughter didn't choke on her own bad decisions.”

I let out a soft, mocking breath. “Liar.”

Kane stopped right at the side of my mattress. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I said.

The sweet, quiet, well-mannered Nadia was completely gone. The second that bedroom door clicked shut, the crimson-wig persona took over my body. The sheer rush of adrenaline was hitting my bloodstream like pure fire.

“You didn't come up those stairs to check on Brielle, Kane,” I whispered, leaning forward into the moonlight. “You came in here for me.”

Kane leaned down, resting one heavy, calloused hand on the mattress right beside my thigh. The heat radiating off his bare chest was suffocating.

“You’re awfully confident all of a sudden,” he rumbled, his stormy eyes locking onto mine. “Where did the timid little college girl go?”

“She went to sleep,” I whispered back, my voice rich, smooth, and utterly unbothered. “She gets tired of playing pretend.”

“Does she now?” Kane’s hand moved, his long fingers wrapping tightly around my jaw, holding me in place. “And who exactly am I talking to right now?”

“Someone who isn't scared of you,” I purred, looking straight into his eyes. “Someone who remembers what you smell like when the lights are turned off.”

A sharp breath hissed through Kane’s teeth. “Say it.”

“Brickell,” I whispered, my heart slamming against my ribs as I slid my hand up his bare, muscular arm. “The Four Seasons penthouse. Six months ago. You like taking control, don't you, Mr. Vale?”

“You wore a crimson wig,” he growled, his grip on my jaw tightening just enough to send a shudder down my spine. “You didn't say three words the entire night.”

“Because I didn't want you to know who I was,” I smirked softly, feeling the hard flex of his bicep under my fingers. “And now look at you. Standing in your stepdaughter’s bedroom while she slumps next to me.”

“You're playing a very dangerous game, Nadia,” Kane warned, though he didn't pull away. He didn't move an inch.

“Then play it with me,” I whispered.

I didn't give him time to think. I grabbed the waistband of his pants and yanked him down onto the bed.

Kane landed heavily over me, his massive frame blocking out the moon.

“Nadia—” he started, his voice a low growl.

“Shut up,” I breathed.

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down onto mine.

The kiss was brutal. It wasn't gentle, hesitant, or soft—it was an explosion of built-up heat and pure, filthy craving. Kane groaned into my mouth, his tongue forcing its way past my lips, claiming me with a heavy, possessive force that made my entire body go slick and trembling.

“Fuck,” Kane muttered against my lips, his hand sliding up my thigh, gathering the silk nightshirt around my waist. “You're out of your mind. She's right next to you.”

“She's knocked out,” I gasped between breathless, hard kisses, my fingers tangling in the thick hair at the back of his neck. “Kiss me, Kane. Do it right now.”

“You like the risk, don't you?” he growled, his thumb tracing the soft skin of my inner thigh, sending electric shocks straight up to my core. “You like doing this under her nose.”

“I like you,” I whispered back, biting his lower lip until he cursed under his breath. “And you want this just as bad as I do.”

“God help me,” Kane muttered.

He pushed the silk nightshirt completely out of the way. The cool room air brushed my skin for half a second before Kane’s hot, heavy body pressed down over me again.

“Kane,” I breathed out, my hips lifting off the mattress on their own. “Don't stop.”

“I'm not stopping,” he growled against my throat, his lips trailing hot, burning kisses down my collarbone while his hands pinned my wrists to the bed. “You think you're in control of this, little girl? You have no idea.”

“Show me then,” I teased, my breath ragged against his ear. “Show me what you've got.”

He didn't hesitate. Kane moved over me with ruthless efficiency, his heavy body pressing me deep into the soft mattress. The sheer thrill of it—the danger of his weight over mine, the sharp scent of cedarwood, the knowledge that Brielle was sleeping less than two feet away—made my head spin out of control.

“Stay quiet,” Kane commanded, his voice dark as he rocked against me, pushing us both past the point of no return.

“I can't,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders, my mouth searching for his again. “Kane... oh god, Kane...”

“Shh, don't make a sound,” he whispered, pressing a hard kiss to my neck while his hips moved in a steady, maddening rhythm.

“You're ruining me,” I whimpered, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying out.

“You wanted this,” he rumbled against my skin, his grip on my waist tightening as the pace quickened, heavy and relentless. “Tell me you wanted this.”

“I wanted you,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I've wanted you since the second I walked into your library.”

“Good girl,” he growled.

The tension stretched tighter and tighter until I couldn't hold it back anymore. The wave hit me like a sudden freight train, tearing through my veins and wiping out every last drop of logic in my brain.

“Ouchhh….Kane—!”

I forgot where I was. I forgot Brielle. I forgot the mansion, the secrets, the rules—everything.

A loud, high-pitched, helpless moan ripped out of my throat, echoing sharply through the dead-silent room.

“Nadia, quiet!” Kane hissed, his hand instantly clamping over my mouth, but it was already too late.

Right beside us on the king-sized mattress, the sheets rustled violently.

Kane went completely still above me. I froze underneath him, my eyes wide in absolute terror, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Slowly, Brielle sat straight up in bed.

Her bleached-blonde hair was a messy, wild tangle, her dark eye makeup smeared across her pale face. The thin strip of moonlight coming through the blinds fell right across her shoulders.

She blinked once. Twice.

Her head turned slowly toward our side of the bed.

She didn't scream. She didn't yell. She didn't say a single word.

Brielle just sat there on the mattress, staring directly at Kane hovering bare-chested over me, her eyes wide, unblinking, and dead quiet.

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