Double Daddy (Call Me Daddy Book 5)

  Double Daddy

  Call Me Daddy – Book 5

  Bianca James

  About the Author

  I write wickedly hot, steamy romance stories that will leave you gasping. Yes, they are a little over the top, but there’s nothing like a quick, dirty read about an alpha male or a sinful, forbidden relationship to spice up the day, is there? If you like your romance scorching hot and very, very naughty, then my stories are for you!

  Join my readers group to be notified of special offers and hot new releases.

  Copyright © 2018 Bianca James. All rights reserved.

  Part I

  Karla stirred from her deep sleep, unsure where she was, at first. A few too many vodka shots with your college besties will do that to you. Her mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage and her hair felt like it had something sticky all through it. She didn’t even want to think what that might be. She hoped it was just an errant spray from a shaken beer can. There had been a lot of that going on last night and she didn’t want to even think about the alternatives.

  Her bedroom floor started to vibrate and her windows rattled all of a sudden. And if the morning after headache wasn’t enough to deal with, now she had to listen to the horrific growl of her growling V8 revving like it was going to explode. That was Kurt’s big muscle car for sure. Nothing else could make her entire bedroom shake like there was an earthquake. It was like he knew she was suffering this morning and wanted to torment her further. He was like that. Kurt can be a real prick sometimes. Actually, most of the time, according to Karla.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, Kurt mashed the accelerator once more and the horrendous growl of the high performance engine filled the air and shook the room. Karla wasn’t in the mood for his games this morning. Short on sleep and short on patience, she wasn’t one to mess with, as Kurt was about to find out.

  The one weekend her mom and stepfather were away camping and she thought she could enjoy some quiet time, for once. Someone was going to get a piece of her mind.

  Pulling her sticky hair into a ponytail, she looked about the floor for her sandals before pulling on a T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts and making her way down the stairs, ready to put Kurt back in his box. There were a lot of things Karla would put up with. Being woken from her sleep after a hard night of partying by her pain-in-the-ass stepbrother wasn’t one of them.

  As she was about to turn into the driveway the engine revving started again, only now it seemed to fill the air with gas fumes and a vibration that turned her hungover brain to jelly as it echoed through her skull. Ready to rip Kurt a new one, Karla stormed angrily toward the offending car and realized that there was nobody behind the wheel, but the hood was up.

  She drew closer to the car and quickly realized that it wasn’t Kurt’s car. His was an SS Camaro. The destroyer of worlds that had awakened her from her slumber was a Pontiac GTO, a fact she would never have even known if Kurt hadn’t always had some car show or other on TV all the time. Even her hungover brain recognized a GTO when she saw one. Maybe Kurt had traded up, he’d always talked about doing.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” she yelled over the gurgling and growling of the enormous engine.

  He rose from the engine bay. Clad in a tight fitting T-shirt that barely seemed to contain his large, muscular chest, he held a heavy wrench in his hand and a small flashlight protruded from his mouth. It wasn’t Kurt.

  In fact, he couldn’t have been less Kurt if he tried. This guy came from a world far removed from Kurt’s. Kurt’s father was a Wall Street banker and money was something his family had never been short of. This guy didn’t come from money. The way he looked, even his demeanor, screamed “parole violator” to Karla as she surveyed him. He had a dangerous and menacing look about him. Although he was probably around her stepfathers vintage, the tattoos that snaked up his arms suited him, despite his age.

  Ripped black jeans with a huge, ugly silver belt buckle accentuating his narrow waist, where it met his V shaped torso. Tribal ink emerging from the T-shirt sleeves, which looked to be straining against the bulging biceps. Forearms that looked like they were made of thick steel cables as he passed the wrench from one hand to the other.

  Karla wasn’t the only one doing some assessing—The Rock, as she called him in her head, was fixated on her. More precisely, on her chest. Fearing she had her T-shirt on inside out or back to front, Karla looked down to see what had The Rock so transfixed.

  Goddammit, she thought, as she realized she wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples, still hard from her erotica inspired dream, were standing out like little pebbles against the thin, clinging material.

  “Hi, I’m Dan,” he said, as he wiped the grease from his hand and offered it to Karla, “Kurt’s out back.”

  “Thanks,” Karla said, rather abruptly as she ignored the large, calloused hand offered by The Rock.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Dan smirked, reluctantly taking his eyes from her breasts long enough to check out Karla’s shapely, tanned legs.

  “What’s up?” Kurt asked as Karla strode purposefully into the workshop behind his house.

  “You tell me what’s up,” Karla was more than a little annoyed now, having been brazenly undressed by Mr. Rock’s eyes. “You’re the one making that God-awful noise and waking half the neighborhood.”

  “Whoa! Be fair,” Kurt replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “if you want to yell at someone for disturbing your peaceful Saturday morning, go talk to Dan out front. I didn’t ask him to come around here and start tuning his ride in our front yard.”

  “Well, did it occur to you to tell him to shut it down?” Karla fired back. “He’s in our yard, isn’t he?”

  “Did you even see him on your way through?” Kurt asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “How about you tell him to shut it down. Does he look like the kind of guy who likes being told what to do?”

  Kurt inhaled and paused to regroup, before trying to explain the situation.

  “Look, him and my dad have been friends since high school. He became a kind of uncle when I was growing up and was often there for me when dad was away on business. Well…until he ran into some trouble, and started to move in different social circles—”

  “He’s in a gang?” asked Karla, somewhat amazed that someone as well-to-do as Kurt should have gang connections.

  “Hell no! Nothing like that. What do you take me for?” he replied with a look that did little to disguise his hurt. “No, he’s just mixed with some less than straight people in the past and made a few bad decisions. He’s paid the price, though and he seems to be getting back on track.”

  Karla folded her arms across her chest and waited for Kurt to continue. She wasn’t going to apologize for suggesting that her spoiled Wall Street brat of a stepbrother might have gang buddies.

  “He’s actually a nice guy, although a little rough around the edges. We reconnected a month or so ago when we met up at the gym. We’ve been training together and spotting each other in the weight room ever since. He’s a natural when it comes to body building and he’s been helping me out a lot. I guess we’ve kind of bonded again, after not seeing each other for so many years.”

  “I’m still pissed at Muscle Head, but I guess I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Karla said, softening just a little. “I was partying until late and planned to sleep most of the morning. Being accosted by your buddy didn’t help, either.”

  Kurt gave Karla an apologetic smile. Much to her surprise, she noticed that he actually looked pretty hot in his workshop clothes.

  A tentative knock on her bedroom door interrupted her ‘chill out’ time as she listened to so
me tunes and tried to read a magazine. Her head still hurt, so she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. And talking to her stupid stepbrother wasn’t high on her agenda, either.

  “Can’t I have five minutes of peace?” she scolded as she opened her bedroom door. She stood silent for a few seconds as she processed the fact that it wasn’t her stepbrother.

  Dan’s bulky frame filled the doorway.

  “Was there something you didn’t stare at long enough, earlier?” she asked sarcastically, still pissed at being woken by his thoughtlessness and not too happy about the way he’d looked at her, either.

  “Ah, yeah, about that. I really am sorry I woke you. I had no idea it was so early. I’d been at the gym, training, for what seemed like hours and when I finally got here to start work on the car with Kurt, I thought it was a lot later than it was,” he explained.

  “And about the other thing, well, I’m not sure what Kurt told you, but where I’ve been, there haven’t been any women at all, least of all ones as hot as you.”

  Did he just call me ‘hot’?

  “I know you’re Kurt’s sister—”

  “Stepsister,” she corrected before he could go on.

  “Sorry…stepsister. Anyway, I didn’t want to let my idiotic behavior cause a problem so I came to apologize and see if we could start over,” he said, once again, offering his hand in friendship.

  He actually sounds almost articulate, for a muscle head, thought Karla as she half-heartedly shook his hand.

  “Okay,” she said. Although, looking at him less judgmentally than she had earlier, she noticed that he was actually not a bad looking guy. That thought unnerved her, as she had never before been attracted to anyone of his ‘type’ and would never have previously considered him good looking, by any definition. Indeed, she wouldn’t have really paid him any attention at all. Usually it was the guys like Kurt and his more up market friends who caught her eye.

  “Am I disturbing you?” he asked, trying to break the awkward silence that accompanied Karla’s musings.

  “No, not at all. I was about to make a pot of coffee. You want some?”

  “Sure, I’d love one. Thanks,” Dan replied as he turned awkwardly to let Karla squeeze past him on her way down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Shit. He’s a big unit, she thought, as he seemed to fill the entire landing outside her bedroom door.

  In what felt like close proximity, due to his sheer size, she was able to fully experience and appreciate the raw power that exuded from his massive, well-proportioned frame. The fitted T hugged every rippling curve of his heavily muscled upper body. Unlike some of the body builders she had seen train at her college gym, this one had an attractive symmetry and his lower and upper body was in eye-pleasing proportion.

  “Do you compete?” Karla asked, as she led the way to the kitchen.

  “At?”

  “Sorry, I meant at body building. Kurt mentioned you guys trained together and you look like you take it pretty seriously.”

  “Nah,” he laughed. “I take it seriously because it gives me an opportunity to build discipline and I like to look after myself, but I don’t think I have the genetics to be competitive. Besides, I like my food and I can’t see myself going hungry for three months at a time, leading up to competitions.

  “Kurt and I train together, but we train differently. He’s more into strength training. He enjoys the challenge of being able to improve his lifting techniques and increasing the amount of weight on the bar.”

  “Me, on the other hand, I like the challenge of improving the aesthetics of my body shape. It means I have to work out to develop each individual muscle, not just the big muscle groups. They all have to be kept in strict proportions to look good. Otherwise, you just end up looking like The Rock,” he smiled as he said it, to let Karla know he’d discussed her earlier conversation with Kurt.

  “Sounds complicated,” she flushed with embarrassment. “So, if you’re not competing, why are you taking it so seriously?”

  “I like the idea of proving to myself I actually have the discipline to stick to something, no matter what it takes,” Dan paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to continue.

  “I hung out with a bad crowd and got into a lot of trouble when I was younger. Actually, I’ve always been in some kind of trouble, even up until recently. I think I always believed that I wasn’t good enough or smart enough to really make anything of myself, which is why I didn’t care what happened to me.”

  “The last stretch I did before I got out a couple of months ago was a turning point for me. I became friends with a guy who showed me what body building was all about. I always thought it was big, stupid guys throwing heavy iron around in the gym. Man, was I wrong. It’s nothing like that at all. It’s more like a science. The final result can be artistic, but there’s a hell of a lot of science and discipline behind the workouts and diet. For the first time in my life, I started to believe in myself.

  “Oh, wow. Sorry. You didn’t invite me in to listen to my sad story. I’m not used to company and I guess I ramble a bit when I’m nervous,” he looked down at his shoes.

  Sensing his discomfort, Karla tried to change the subject.

  “No need to apologize. I’m the one who asked all the questions. Anyway, how do you take your coffee?”

  “Black, no sugar, thanks,” Dan replied, grateful for the change in topic.

  Over coffee, despite their dissimilar backgrounds and interests, they chatted easily.

  How quickly things can change, she thought.

  Placing his empty coffee cup in the sink, Dan picked up his wallet and keys from the bench and prepared to leave. Karla now realized they’d been talking for ages, although the time seemed to have passed quickly.

  “Sorry, was I holding you up?” she asked.

  “That’s alright. I’m supposed to be helping Kurt work on his car. He’ll be gunning for me if I don’t get back to it. I owe him and don’t want to let him down. Besides, he’s invited me over for a barbeque tonight if I help him tune the carbs on his Camaro,” Dan said, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall.

  “Hey, are you going to be here, too?”

  As she opened her mouth to speak and decline, she heard herself say “That sounds like fun. Of course I’ll be here, she said as she led Dan to the back door.

  Karla rummaged through her dresses looking for something suitable to wear. It wasn’t a formal dinner party or a date. She had clothes for those occasions. This was a casual BBQ, with her stepbrother and his inked ‘bad boy’ uncle. What the hell do I wear for that occasion?

  Finally, she selected a floral, knee length halter dress that had long been one of her favorites. She hadn’t had an opportunity to wear it in a while. Tonight was a good opportunity to enjoy it, once again. It was dressy enough for dinner and, if she did say so herself, made her look hot enough, without screaming “bend me over the table and make me take it, jail boy”.

  Perfect.

  Slipping into a nice pair of heels Karla checked herself out in the full length mirror. She liked what she saw and felt she had achieved her objective. Understated, classy and just a little bit sexy. Perfect. The night might even be a bit of fun.

  By the time she got downstairs, Kurt had his dad’s barbeque smoker cranked up to temperature and most of the meat rubbed with his old family recipe of spices. The two guys had already started on a six pack.

  “Hey sis! About time you showed up,” Kurt called out as he threw a six pack across the lawn to Karl.

  “Do you even know how to drive that thing?” she teased, catching the beer easily in one hand and pointing to the complicated looking smoker with her other hand.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, wanting to be polite, but hoping he wouldn’t say yes. She was still recovering from the previous night.

  Kurt and Dan drank their beer while they finished rubbing the last of the meat. Karla reclined on a sun lounge and sipped her beer while she watched
Kurt and Dan work their magic with the steaks. There was something quite sexy about a man cooking for a woman. Very sexy, indeed.

  While Kurt finished loading the meat into the smoker, Dan, wiping his hands clean on an old towel, sat beside Karla while he waited for Kurt to finish up.

  “I’ll be honest with you Dan I don’t know shit from clay about cars. Any cars, least of all Muscle Cars,” Karla said, in an effort to break the ice, “but I’m curious, did you restore the GTO or buy it already done?”

  “Well, your stock just went up 10 points, as Kurt’s dad always says. You know it’s a GTO, so that means you know something about cars.”

  “Too much muscle car TV when Kurt hogs the remote, I think. That and the huge letters G-T-O on the grille,” Karla winked over at Kurt who’d been listening in on their conversation.

  Karla couldn’t quite remember the exact moment when she thought it would a good idea to let the boys drink Tequila shots from shot glasses resting on her smooth, flat belly, but it was probably sometime between finishing the most delicious steak she had ever tasted and finishing off the last six pack in the fridge. By that time, the sun had gone down and they’d moved the impromptu party indoors to the dining room.

  She couldn’t even remember who started talking about frat parties where the girls did that kind of thing but before she knew it, she was stripped to her bra and panties, laying on the hastily cleared dining table with a shot glass balanced in her navel. Despite the totally surreal feeling, Karla couldn’t recall feeling so bold or empowered before in her life. She’d never felt so sexy or desirable, either. The guys looked like they’d never seen a beautiful, naked woman in a very long time. Of course, in Dan’s case, that wasn’t far from the truth.

  She wondered how if time in prison might be easier for a guy his age. Surely some of the testosterone of youth had left the system by the time he reached that age.