Desired By My Alpha Stepfather

We are not a thing

Nina's POV

This was it. We would get caught. There was no escaping it.

The jarring rap on the door slammed into me, assaulting my ears. It ripped my world down to its bare essentials: the thump of my own heart, the ragged rasp of Vince's breath against my lips, the feel of my pulse against my skin.

He pulled away abruptly. There was this look in his eyes that I couldn't decipher. Shame, maybe? Guilt? Something dark flashed in his eyes before it was hastily shuttered. My own mind was a chaotic mess, reeling from the dizzying shift from comfort to a terrifying look on my eyes. I hardly knew what to do, or say, or think.

"Nina? Everything alright in there?" My mom's voice called through the door.

Vince raised a hand. He didn't need words; his fierce gaze held a plea that I could hear deep within me. Don't speak, it seemed to say. Don't let her know.

I felt humiliated. Why the secrecy? What were we hiding? I was kissing my stepfather who happened to be my mate? My stepfather had been kissing his stepdaughter, who very well, happened to be his fated mate? Well... it was a bit more than just kissing. The very thought of explaining the mess we were in to my mom was mortifying.

Breath left my throat, constricting my airways. I tried to pull away, to snatch a breath of much-needed air, but Vince's hand clamped over my mouth. The touch was surprisingly gentle, yet utterly immobilizing. He wasn't hurting me, but the gesture felt like a betrayal nonetheless.

"Nina?" My mom's voice called again. "Nina, open the door."

My eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route, a solution that wasn't there. My gaze landed on Vince again. Part of me wanted to scream at him, to demand an explanation for this suffocating silence, but something else held me back.

A long silence stretched between us. I could hear both our breathing. Then, Vince leaned in, his warm breath whispering against my ear. "Just say you're fine," he murmured, his voice rough. "Tell her you don't need anything."

The words felt foreign on my tongue. It felt like a lie that being forced to be told. Yet, I managed a choked whisper that mirrored his, "I'm fine, Mom. Just... tired."

The doorknob rattled. Each ratttle made my entire being shake with terror. My mom was turning it. Vince reacted with lightning speed. He shoved a throw pillow off the armchair and practically shoved me onto it, his hand finding my shoulder to keep me seated.

"Just act natural," he hissed, his voice tight with barely suppressed panic.

The rattle stopped, replaced by a moment of agonizing silence. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself invisible. My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst free from my chest.

Then, a voice, thankfully not my mom's, drifted through the door. "Sarah? You there?" It was Agnes, one of the kitchen maids.

The relief I felt was so sudden and intense that it almost buckled my knees. It literally flooded through me. Vince visibly relaxed, his hand dropping away from my shoulder.

"Yes, Agnes? Come in," Sarah's voice called back.

The doorknob turned again, this time accompanied by the creak of the door opening. I peeked through one eye, catching a glimpse of Agnes rushing in, her face flushed and hair escaping from its braid.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry to bother you," she stammered, "but Mrs. Rodriguez needs you in the kitchen right away. Something's spilled all over the stove, and—"

Sarah cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Don't worry about it, Agnes. I'll be right there."

Agnes bobbed her head curtly and hurried out, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click. The sudden silence after the receding footstepswas almost deafening.

My gaze darted towards Vince, searching for some explanation, some clue about what had just transpired almost between us. His expression, however, remained unreadable. Shame still lingered in his eyes.

He rose from the floor, his movements stiff and formal. "I should go," he said, his voice clipped.

I wanted to protest, to ask him to stay, but something held my tongue hostage. The memory of his lips on mine, the possessiveness in his touch, felt like a scorching brand on my skin.

"Alright," I mumbled, the word barely audible.

He offered a curt nod, his gaze staying on me for a beat too long before he turned and strode towards the door. 

Just as he reached for the knob, a thought struck me. It was so sharp and sudden. "Vince, wait," I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in my haste.

He turned back, his eyebrows raised in question. 

"About what happened..." I started, then faltered. How could I even begin to express the mess of emotions dancing within me? Shame, confusion, something... else.

Vince seemed to understand my hesitation. "We'll talk about it later," he said. "But not now."

The click of the door shutting behind my mother was supposed to be the end to the chaos. Instead, it felt like a taunt, because Vince hadn't left, just yet. He stood by the window, his back rigid.

The hot and prickly version of shame crawled up my neck, followed by a cold realization that settled in my gut like a stone. What had I been thinking? How could I have let myself get consumed by the moment?

Then, the sharp and unexpected version of anger sliced through the shame. Vince. With his self-righteous pronouncements and his practiced aloofness. Easy for him to walk away, to retreat back to the safety of his vows and his marriage bed. What about me? Left with the fallout, and this whole mess of a mate thingy.

A low growl echoed in my head. My wolf whimpered in the face of this betrayal. Shamefaced, I pushed the feeling down, shoving it back into the recesses of my being. Now wasn't the time for its instincts. Not with what was going on inside me.

"Nina," he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, despite the anger simmering within. He didn't turn around, but I could feel the heat of his gaze on me.

I swallowed hard, the dryness in my throat resembling the sudden aridity in the room. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said, his tone carrying a harshness that surprised me. "Like what?" I rasped, looking every shade of confused.

He finally turned, his eyes blazing a stormy blue. "Like there's a chance. Like what happened could ever happen again."

His words were a slap. He didn't fail to remind me of the reality I'd been desperately trying to ignore. He was right. He was married to my mother.

But the hurt that lanced through me wasn't just for the broken possibility, but for the way he dismissed me. "I wasn't..." I stammered, searching for the right words, for any words that wouldn't sound pathetic.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice captured a weariness that belied his anger. "Don't pretend this is something it's not. You're my stepdaughter, Nina. Nothing more."

His words were a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs. My wolf snarled within, a caged beast straining against the bars of control. But I held it back, shoving the raw pain deep down.

"Fine," I choked out, my voice barely audible. "I get it."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he heaved a heavy sigh, and then turned back towards the window.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice softer now. "Just... forget about it, alright? It was a mistake. It won't happen again."

The way he said it, like it was something trivial, a spilled glass of water, sent a torrent of anger through me. But I knew arguing wouldn't change anything. He'd built his walls, high and strong, and I wasn't sure I even wanted to try and tear them down.

"Alright," I muttered, the word tasting like a bitter pill on my tongue.

He didn't respond, and after a moment of tense silence, he finally moved towards the door. 

"Vince," I blurted out before he could leave.

He stopped, his back still to me. "What?"

"Thank you," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.

He turned slowly, surprise flickering across his face. "For what?"

"For... for looking out for me," I stammered.

He held my gaze for a beat longer, then nodded curtly before disappearing out the window, leaving me alone.

The earth-shattering thud that erupted from outside my window severed the silence in my room. Vince scrambled to his feet and disappeared through the window.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a solo keeping time with the rushing blood in my ears. I spun towards the window, the shattered glass sparkling accusingly in the moonlight. Had anyone heard? Had my mom?

Just then, the sound of footsteps on the stairs grew louder. The doorknob rattled, and moments later, the door creaked open, revealing my mom's stern face.

"Nina? What in the world are you clumsing around at this hour?"

Panic choked me.

"I... I just..." The lie wouldn't form. My voice, barely a squeak, managed, "I dropped a picture frame."

Her eyes narrowed. "A picture frame this late? Don't be ridiculous, Nina. You're probably just clumsy as ever."

Tears welled in my eyes. "I couldn't sleep," I mumbled.

"Well, that's hardly becoming with tomorrow's event," she sneered. "Vince will be there, you know."

The mention of Vince sent a jolt through me. Her lips twisted into a smile that seemed more like a practiced mask than amusement itself.

"Look," she said, her voice dangerously greeting my ears, "Let's be perfectly clear. Ideally, you wouldn't even be there. But darling Vincent will be attending, and frankly, Nina, I can't have him suspecting the truth, can I?"

The truth. Her hatred wasn't even hidden anymore, I could see it, right there in the open.

"So you see," she continued, her voice regaining its icy composure, "consider your presence a necessary... inconvenience. Now, get yourself together. We have a very important appearance tomorrow, and frankly, Nina, the last thing I need is another reason to be ashamed of you in front of Vincent."

The click of the door shutting behind her echoed in the room. Tears streamed down my face. It wasn't just that she didn't care, it was worse – she actively disliked having me around.

As the tears streamed down my face, the image of Vince's face flashed across my mind. There was something in his eyes – guilt, maybe, even longing.  But it didn't matter. He was off-limits.

Burying my face deeper into the pillow, I tried to shut out the world, the impossible questions, and the sense of being trapped.

Tomorrow would come, and with it, the charade I had to maintain. 

The click of the door shutting behind my mom wasn't the end of the ordeal. She paused just outside. My breath hitched as the scent of her expensive perfume now felt suffocating. Was it masking something else? Vince's cologne? Did she suspect he'd been here?

The most damning evidence, though, wasn't the crumpled sheets, but the lacy bra abandoned on the floor. It lay there. The memory of Vince's fingers brushing against my skin as he unhooked it made me shiver. It was a touch that had felt both exhilarating and terrifying. It felt like a violation of boundaries I didn't even know existed.

The doorknob rattled. My heart hammered against my ribs as the door creaked open a sliver. Her manicured nails scraped against the frame, then a glimpse of her face appeared.

"Do I smell..." she began. Her eyes, narrowed to cruel slits, scanned the room, finally settling on me. "Is that... cologne?"

The question choked the air from my lungs, leaving me speechless.

"You had a boy here, didn't you?" she snarled, the word "boy" voiced with disdain like last week's yogurt.

My cheeks burned. "No, Mom, it's just..."

She cut me off with a bark of laughter, a humorless sound that scraped against my insides. "Just what? Don't play dumb with me, Nina. You think I can't smell that cheap drugstore cologne a mile away? You reeking up the whole damn house like a walking road sign that screams 'easy.'"

Tears pricked at my eyes."It's not like that!"

"Isn't it?" She shoved past me.

"Look, Nina, I don't expect much from you. You never were the brightest bulb in the box. But let me spell it out for your rock-for-brains self: Don't. Get. Pregnant. You wouldn't be able to handle it. You can barely handle your own room, let alone a screaming, needy baby."

Her words were like a whip, cracking against my already fragile self-esteem. "I wasn't planning on..."

"Planning?" She scoffed. "Like you ever plan anything, Nina? You just bumble through life, tripping over your own stupidity. At least have the decency to tell the other half-wit to use protection. Condoms aren't exactly rocket science, are they?"

She didn't have to tell me over and over that I was a disappointment, a walking cliché in her eyes. There was no love, no concern, just a cold, hard order: avoid the messy consequences.

"You're such a fool, Nina," she spat. "Don't make me regret keeping you."

With that, she stormed out, leaving me drowning in the cologne that her own husband had left behind.

****

My legs wobbled as I practically hurled myself into the back seat of the car. It wasn't just the adrenaline crash from the close call with Mom. It was the undeniable presence of Alpha Vince, occupying the passenger seat in a dark shirt that seemed to swallow him whole. He was already there.

His gaze that was usually sharp and assessing, seemed distant today. Maybe the guilt of earlier was finally eating at him? Or maybe, just maybe, a part of him was reliving that stolen kiss as vividly as I was. A shiver danced down my spine at the memory. The way his lips had molded to mine, the heat that had flared between us... it was a delicious sin that left me yearning for more.

Stealing a glance at him in the rearview mirror, I caught him staring back. Our eyes locked.  Then, as quickly as it began, he looked away, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

Did I imagine it, or did a muffled groan escape his lips? A giggle almost escaped me. It was totally absurd. A teenage girl and her step-dad, both flustered by a stolen kiss, crammed into a metal can about to be driven by my completely oblivious mother on a shopping spree.

"Talk about a dysfunctional family dynamic," I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes.

Just then, a sharp rap on the window startled me out of my thoughts. It was Mom, looking impatient as ever.

"Nina! Get a move on, we're burning daylight! And Vince, loosen up a bit, would you? You look like you're attending a funeral, not a shopping trip."

I forced a smile. A shopping trip. Right. Because that's exactly what this was – a perfectly normal shopping trip with absolutely nothing scandalous beneath it all.

The car pulled away from the curb, I leaned back, the awkwardness slowly ebbing away. Maybe, this shopping trip wouldn't be so bad after all. After all, a little retail therapy never hurt anyone, even a girl with a forbidden crush on her step-father and a mother with a nose for trouble.