Ch. Man 1 Man 1

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Beas the Man of the House 

Begs the Man of the House 

Forever Billy 

I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who had to depend on her family to get her a job. 

I worked my ass off all through high school and college to get good grades, but it never seemed like enough. A solid B+ average wasn’t terrible by any means, but when I was going up against students with piles of extra–circulars who had been taking one internship after another since high school, my good GPA wasn’t good enough. 

I spent the summer after graduation applying to on entry level job after another. The unpaid internships beckoned with their promises of experience and getting your name in front of the corporate higher–ups. 

“Most companies ALWAYS hire out of their intern pools,” my best friend Macy had told me. Macy was lucky enough to have snagged an internship with a big environmental law firm her senior year, and when the next round of hiring happened after graduation, she was well–liked enough to make the cut. 

I sighed, closing the browser window. I wasn’t a trust fund kid, so I needed a job that paid actual money. My landlord wouldn’t exactly accept “experience” as a rent payment, but unless I managed to get something soon, I was screwed. 

Coming home with my tail between my legs a month later was depressing to say the least. I’d exhausted every employment opportunity within sane driving distance. Either I didn’t have enough experience (no shit, I just got out of college) or I was overqualified (of course I’m overqualified, I didn’t study for four years to make lattes). 

I pulled up in the driveway and stared at the house. My Mom was off on one of her spal getaways again. She seemed to be gone more than she was home, but the situation seemed to work well for her and my stepfather. 

My stepfather was… intense. The CEO of ARE Holdings, he had the kind of job most people worked for their entire lives and he was only in his mid 30s. I had been determined to make my 

own way 

in the world without needing his help. Ever since his first date with my Mom, I’d been hearing about how he built his company from nothing and people who inherit their job or their wealth would never truly value it because they didn’t earn it. 

So time to grovel. 

Despite his no–nonsense business behavior, I’d always had a good relationship with my stepfather. He and I honestly seemed to have more in common than my flighty mother. I hated the idea of disappointing him. 

Steeling myself, I opened the front door. “Hi Daddy!” I called. 

The Daddy thing had started the day they got engaged. I thought it was hilarious to call him 

Begs the Man of the House 

was always Daddy. 

“Morgan, welcome home.” Daddy gave me a hug, and I couldn’t ignore the rush of heat that flooded me at the touch of his strong arms. 

That’s my other dirty secret. I have serious lust for my stepfather. You really can’t blame me. Tall with thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes, Daddy looks like a fashion model. He always has a bit of stubble, giving him a sexy, rugged look that is a gorgeous contrast to his immaculate 

suits. 

But it’s what’s underneath those suits that is even better. 

Daddy works out about two hours a day, getting up at 5AM to hit the gym and lift weights, so his muscles are cut. I used to sneak downstairs and watch him in his home gym, staring at those sexy muscles as he lifted weights and imagining him bending me over one of the benches. 

Shaking my head to bring myself back to the present, I pushed my dirty thoughts away. I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together to try to quell the ache that had sprang up between them that only Daddy’s fingers could truly fill.