HIS CHUBBY STEPDAUGHTER

MICHELA;

Miles paused from sawing the wood in the front yard right beside the widely opened doors of the bookstore, his voice warm and deep as always. 

That sexy deep voice of his that I always thought about before bed, especially after hearing him speak to someone on the phone from across the hallway.

My eyes ran over him slowly. His messy dark chestnut hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. The thin white apron he wore clung to his broad chest, and I could clearly see the outline of his hard nipples pressing against the fabric. 

Sweat trickled down his thick neck and over his huge biceps, making his skin glisten under the afternoon sun. 

My mouth went dry. Skye wiggled her tail happily beside me, snapping me back from my imagination. I blinked fast. He was my late Mom's man, my guardian, and should definitely be off-limits.

If only he knew what those two words did to me every single time... daddy's girl. He had first called me that when I turned seventeen. And that day, they sent heat rushing between my legs and made my heart race.

 If only he knew how hard I had tried to make Nathan want me, to put out this fire burning inside me for months, and how completely I had failed.

"Yes... Yes, I had no classes left," I stuttered, my voice coming out shaky. I forced my legs to move and walked quickly toward the house, avoiding his eyes. I wasn't sure what his lingering gaze meant, but it felt heavy on my skin, like he could see right through me.

Skye didn't follow me inside. She stayed out there with Miles, wagging her tail and looking up at him like he was the best person in the world. That left me alone with my racing thoughts as I pushed the front door open and stepped into the cool, quiet house.

Jemy's words from the library kept echoing in my head: A man that would appreciate your body and how beautiful you are.

Was I really beautiful? If I was, why didn't Nathan want me? All those nights I stayed late at his apartment, hoping he would finally touch me, kiss me properly, or even look at me with real desire... Why didn't he? 

Maybe Jemy was wrong. Maybe I wasn't beautiful at all. Who would ever call a girl my size beautiful? Girls like Jessika were the ones guys wanted... long, slender legs, flat stomachs, perfect little bodies. 

And Jemy too, one of the reasons I had not allowed her to visit me at home... She had a thing for older men, and she wasn't as big as I was and I couldn't stand the thought of my stepfather wanting her, and not me. Everyone was slim and slender, except for me, my chest tightened.

I walked straight to my bedroom, heart still hurting from everything that happened at Nathan's place. The moment I closed the door behind me... or at least I thought I did...  I stood in front of my full-length mirror. I stared at myself like I was seeing my body for the first time, like it wasn't the torture I was subjected to. 

I had tried it all: herbal tea, skipping meals, and cutting out carbs. At this point, I had concluded that taking water made me gain weight too.

I pulled off my T-shirt in one quick motion and dropped it on the floor. My white lace bra looked tight, pushing my heavy breasts together and making them spill over the cups. 

My nipples were hard from seeing Miles, dark, and poking angrily against the thin lace. I moved closer to the mirror, studying them. They were big. Really big. 

Nathan had never seemed to like them. He never touched them, never stared, never told me they were sexy.

My hands moved lower. I unbuttoned my tight jeans and shoved them down my wide hips, kicking them onto the bed, just where I had dumped my backpack. 

Now I stood there in nothing but my lace bra and a tiny pair of panties that had wedged themselves between my full ass cheeks. I turned side to side in the mirror, trying so hard to love what I saw, to buy Jemy's words. 

I ran my hands over my soft belly, the deep curve of my waist, the thick thighs that rubbed together when I walked. My navel was a perfect little button in the middle of it all.

"I really look like a beanbag," I muttered angrily under my breath. "That's the ugly name she called me."

The words tasted bitter, sounded cruel but they described me perfectly. Tears pricked at my eyes again as I remembered Jessika's smirk and Nathan's casual cruelty.

 I sucked in my stomach, then let it go, watching how my body moved naturally. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't see what Miles sometimes seemed to see when he looked at me.

My skin felt hot, the air in the room felt thicker. I cupped my heavy breasts in both hands, lifting them slightly, feeling their weight. 

My thumbs brushed over my hard nipples through the lace and a small shiver ran through me. A soft, unintentional sound escaped my lips. I imagined different hands on me... bigger, stronger, more careful hands. Hands that wouldn't mock me. Hands that would worship.

I turned again, looking at the way my ass filled out my panties, round and soft. I ran my palms over my hips, squeezing the flesh there gently. Heat was building low in my belly, my breathing had grown a little faster. 

For a moment, I let myself wonder what it would feel like if Miles walked in right now and saw me like this. What would his eyes do? Would he look away? Or would that deep voice of his say something that made me melt?

I shook my head, trying to clear the dangerous thought, but my body didn't listen. My nipples stayed tight and sensitive. A damp warmth had started between my thighs. I stood there, almost naked, touching my own curves, caught between shame and a strange, growing need.

"No, Kitten," the deep voice reached me from the door. Only then did I realise, I hadn't shut the door.