Player (A Taboo Short)

By: Jenika Snow & Sam Crescent

Charlotte


He’s an arrogant bastard, a manwhore, and a guy I’m forced to live with because my mother married his father. A part of me hates Derek because of the way he flaunts himself, because he doesn’t seem to care that he uses women like they are nothing more than a body to warm his bed for a few hours. But what I hate even more is the fact that I want him. The more he teases me, brushes up against me as we pass each other, and slips in dirty innuendos during our conversations, the more I want to slap him, and then give myself to him like so many other women have done.





Derek


I know Charlotte hates me, loathes me, and thinks I’m a player, but what she might not know is that those little touches I give her, those filthy little slips in the conversation that have her blushing and getting embarrassed, turn me on like a fiend. I never said I was a good guy, and that I didn’t sleep around back in the day, because I did. But I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. My past is tainted, but how surprised would she be if she found out I haven’t been with anyone in longer than I cared to admit? How shocked would Charlotte be if I admitted I’ve stayed away from other girls because I want her that badly?





Chapter One





Derek


Charlotte doesn’t even know what she does to me, how she made my fucking cock feel like it was going to tear through my damn jeans. She sat on that couch, her leg propped up, and those damn little shorts she wore riding up her creamy, smooth thighs, like she wasn’t giving my the biggest fucking hard-on in the world.

I watched her run the little brush over her toenail, painting it red, making me even crazier with lust. God, what I wouldn’t give to have her under me, to have that curvy body squirming, arched, sweaty because I was fucking her so good.

My old man might have married her mom three years ago, and technically we were related, if only by marriage, but I didn’t see Charlotte as anything more than a prime, grade-A piece of pussy. But I didn’t just want her like a damn drug addict; she was smart, didn’t put up with my bullshit, and gave as good as she got. She could also be a little bitch toward me, and I knew it was because she’d heard the rumors about me in school.

Player. Manwhore. Cocky bastard. Jock.

I leaned against the kitchen counter and lifted the can of pop to my mouth, watching as she lifted her hand to brush at the long dark fall of her hair. My cock throbbed, my balls drawn up tight.

Fucking hell, you little tease.

But I guess she wasn’t really a cock tease, since she wasn’t doing this shit on purpose.

Charlotte lifted her head, looked over her shoulder at me, and narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Just standing there watching me?” She had a snap in her voice, her annoyance clear. God, that fucking turned me on.

I didn’t respond, just smirked, knowing it would piss her off. We’d been living under the same roof for the last three years, and for the last year, I’d seen her as something more sexual. I’ve wanted her so fucking much that I couldn’t even be with another girl because my cock wouldn’t get hard.

Yeah, my reputation was a little nasty, a little filthy. I liked pussy, and that wouldn’t change. She thought I was a whore, though, and I was, at one point. But what would she say if she knew that for the last year I hadn’t done shit with any other girls?

“Don’t you have a game to get ready for or something?” she asked as she closed up the bottle of nail polish.

This was our last year of high school, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’d thought about what I was going to do afterward, and if I’d have the balls to tell Charlotte that I wanted her. But this whole situation was fucked. She was my stepsister, and wanting someone that was related to you, even if only by marriage, was fucked up.

“Don’t you have some girl to fuck,” Charlotte said with disgust in her voice.

I finished off my drink, tossed the can in the recycle bin, and grinned. “Why are you so curious about who I’m going to be fucking?” Truth was there wouldn’t be any fucking going on, not by me at least. My dick only ever got hard for Charlotte.

She stood, those little shorts molded to her fucking crotch because of the way she’d been sitting. I cleared my throat and turned away from her. I didn’t need to show her my cock was tenting my jeans like motherfucker.

“I’m not, believe me. I don’t want to know about your nasty exploits.”

I chuckled, flashing her a grin. She got nervous around me a lot, but recently, I started seeing the way she blushed when I teased her. It made me want to do it more because she looked so damn good like that.

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