Claimed by My Stepdad

Aria

“Your stepdad is seriously hot,” Chloe said, twirling her lollipop between her lips as she watched him walk past the pool. She looked every bit the wannabe Lolita, lounging on her towel.

I rolled my eyes and let out a dismissive snort, turning onto my back. We were sprawled by the pool, trying to build a base tan before summer truly hit. With only three weeks left of high school, Chloe had declared getting “summer-ready” our joint mission. Her rules: at least thirty minutes of sun daily and absolutely no carbs until September.

And apparently, part of the mission involved openly ogling anything male that moved—including my stepfather.

Disgusting.

I shut my eyes against the brilliant sun, trying to ignore her. The heat soaked into my skin, and I was just starting to melt into relaxation when…

“Hey, Liam!” Chloe called out, her voice dripping with bold, flirty sweetness. It was the same tone her divorced mother used around him. I clenched my eyes tighter, irritation prickling under my skin.

Normally, Chloe’s shameless antics just made me laugh, even when they were awkwardly aimed at my family. But today, I was already on edge, raw from a massive blow-up with Liam that morning.

We were three weeks from freedom—from high school, from rules, from everything. Chloe and I were laser-focused on breaking loose and finally living life on our own terms.

Our plan was to get an apartment by September. We both worked two jobs and were saving steadily. A couple shifts a week at The Vineyard Café—that was the official job our parents knew about. Several times a week, we each posted content to our separate LuxeLife pages—a premium adult content site our parents definitely did not know about. We made more than enough to afford our own place. College felt like a pointless delay.

What was the point? Some of the world’s biggest success stories never finished school. Steve Jobs dropped out. Einstein supposedly failed classes because he was bored. Real success wasn’t about grades; it was something deeper, something innate.

Chloe and I understood that. Liam, however, did not.

I’d let him assume I’d applied to colleges and was just waiting to hear back. But as June arrived with no acceptance letters, he’d started asking questions. That morning, I’d finally confessed I had no intention of going. He’d exploded. “Like hell you’re not!” he’d roared, threatening to ground me even though I was legally an adult. I’d screamed back. Doors slammed. The house vibrated with anger. Then Chloe arrived, blissfully unaware of the tension. Thank God Liam didn’t send her home.

I couldn’t wait for my real life to begin. In our own apartment, we could invest in professional lighting and camera gear, set up a dedicated filming space. We’d double or triple our income. Then I could have the life I dreamed of—glamorous, stylish, luxurious, and… experienced.

Because—and this would shock my 1,500+ LuxeLife subscribers—despite the sexually charged content I created, I was still a virgin. A virgin who was utterly tired of it. I was performing a version of sexuality I’d never actually lived, desperate to satisfy the ache of curiosity inside me.

Chloe was still on her stomach, kicking one leg lazily in the air, her gaze fixed on Liam as he tinkered in the garage. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “He’s taking his shirt off.”

I sighed. “He’s always taking his shirt off. It’s like you’ve never seen him before.”

She pulled the lollipop from her mouth with a loud pop. “Aria, I’m serious. He is legitimately stacked. Like, gym-rat perfection.”

I sat up, propping myself on my hands, and reluctantly let my eyes drift toward the garage. Liam was crouched beside his motorcycle—his beloved bike that was a perpetual project—loosening something near the front tire. His white t-shirt was tucked loosely into his jeans.

I couldn’t deny Liam was in phenomenal shape. As a firefighter, he worked long shifts, but my mom used to joke he spent his days off living in the gym. He was obsessed with fitness. I was just glad he wasn’t using the free weights he kept out there. Chloe would absolutely lose it.

And… fine, he was handsome. He had thick, dark hair swept back from his face, the first hints of silver just touching his temples. His features were sharp—a straight nose, strong cheekbones, long dark lashes framing deep brown eyes. His skin held a permanent tan, even in winter when he wasn’t perpetually shirtless.

I knew plenty of women found him attractive, including Chloe’s mom, Vivian, who turned into a giggling, hair-twirling fool around him. After her divorce, Vivian had spent a fortune on cosmetic procedures, completely remodeling her body, and now showcased it in tiny, tight outfits at every opportunity. Honestly, she was kind of a female version of Liam. Maybe they were a perfect match.

Sometimes I thought Liam needed a woman in his life. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a hardass all the time. Since my mom, Stella, died two years ago, I knew he’d been lonely. Suddenly becoming the guardian of a teenage girl probably hadn’t helped his dating life. I knew he worried about me.

With no biological father in the picture, Liam was the closest thing to a dad I had—even though he and my mom didn’t meet until I was fourteen. I was genuinely grateful he’d stepped into the role so completely. Even when we butted heads, it meant everything that he never made me feel like this wasn’t my home. He’d made it clear he was in my life for good.

Liam stood, wiping his hands on a rag, and started heading toward the house. I couldn’t help offering a small, conciliatory smile. I felt guilty about our fight. I didn’t want to let him down… I just needed to make my own choices.

“You two need anything to drink?” he asked as he passed, his voice a low rumble. I shook my head.