Chapter 1

I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the colorful balloons I'd spent the last two hours tying to every available surface. The cake sat perfectly centered on the coffee table — chocolate with vanilla frosting, my favorite — surrounded by snacks, drinks, and a pile of party hats that now looked pathetic. Twenty years old. Supposed to be a milestone. Instead, it felt like a joke.

My phone buzzed again. Another cancellation. "Sorry, babe, family emergency!" "Yeah, right," I muttered under my breath. In school I was the quiet bookworm. Apparently that reputation followed me even on my birthday. Every single friend who had promised to come had bailed with some excuse or another. And then Mom called — out of town on business, as usual. "Happy birthday, sweetie. I'll make it up to you when I get back!"

I sank onto the big leather sofa, hugging my knees to my chest. The house felt too big, too empty. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. Friends bailing on my birthday… great. Now I look like the pathetic stepdaughter who needs rescuing.

The sound of the front door opening made me look up. Victor stepped in, still in his sharp suit from work, the fabric stretching across his broad shoulders. At thirty-eight, my stepfather looked like he could still dominate the soccer pitch. Tall — easily 1.9 meters — with muscles that filled out his clothes in a way that always made my stomach do a little flip. His cologne, something expensive and masculine, drifted ahead of him.

He took one look at the untouched party setup and my miserable face, and his expression softened instantly.

"Princess," he said, voice low and warm. He crossed the room in a few strides and pulled me into his arms without hesitation. His chest was solid, warm, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. "What happened?"

I mumbled into his shirt, "Everyone canceled. Mom's gone. It's just… me."

Victor's arms tightened around me. One big hand stroked my back soothingly while the other cupped the back of my head. "Daddy won't let you spend your birthday alone," he murmured against my hair, his deep voice vibrating through me. "We're fixing this right now."

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes intense. "Go put on that pretty dress I bought you. The red one. Daddy's going to give you a real celebration."

Before I could protest, he was already on his phone, dialing. I caught snippets — "Yeah, bring the good stuff… her birthday… get over here" — and within thirty minutes, the house started filling up.

His friends arrived one by one. All of them tall, built like athletes, with the same confident swagger Victor had. Former teammates, business partners, even a couple of current players from the team he coached. They brought bottles of expensive liquor, gift bags, and a portable speaker that blasted upbeat music. Suddenly the quiet house was alive with deep laughter and masculine energy.

I changed into the red dress like he asked. It hugged my curves, shorter than I usually wore, but the way Victor's eyes darkened when he saw me made something warm bloom low in my belly.

Throughout the evening, Victor kept me close. His hand would rest on my waist as he introduced me to his friends, or he'd lean down to speak close to my ear so I could hear him over the music. Every time his breath brushed my skin or his fingers brushed the small of my back, heat pooled between my thighs. God, why does he have to smell so good? And why do all his friends look like they could bench press a car while looking like models?

One of them — a guy named Marcus with a killer smile and shoulders that strained his shirt — handed me a drink. "Happy birthday, beautiful. Victor's been bragging about you all week."

I laughed awkwardly, cheeks burning. Victor's arm slid around me possessively, pulling me against his side. The heat of his body seeped through my dress. I could feel the hard planes of muscle, the way his thigh pressed against mine when we sat on the sofa together. My nipples tightened under the thin fabric, and I prayed no one would notice.

As the night went on, I found myself hyper-aware of every little touch. When Victor laughed at something one of his friends said, the low rumble sent a shiver down my spine. I shifted in his lap — because somehow I'd ended up there — and felt the solid strength of his thighs underneath me. My pussy was shamefully wet, aching in a way that made me press my legs together.

This is so wrong, I thought. He's your stepfather. Get it together. But the thought only made the heat worse.

Victor noticed. Of course he did."You're doing so good, baby girl," he murmured in my ear, voice rough. "Let Daddy take care of you tonight."

My heart hammered. The music pulsed, glasses clinked, and his friends chatted loudly, completely unaware of the tension crackling between us. Or maybe they weren't. A couple of them kept glancing our way with heated looks that made my stomach tighten with forbidden excitement.

We raised our glasses for a toast. "To my princess turning twenty," Victor announced, his arm tight around my waist. "And to many more nights like this."

Everyone cheered. I smiled, glass raised, trying to ignore how soaked my panties were and how badly I wanted —

The lights flickered once.

Then the entire house plunged into darkness.

Gasps and surprised laughter filled the air. Someone cursed playfully. But all I could focus on was Victor's body pressed against mine in the sudden blackout, his breath hot against my neck, and the way my pulse thundered in my ears.