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  Pearson

  Four Fathers Series

  K Webster

  Edited by

  Word Nerd Editing

  K Webster

  Pearson

  Copyright © 2018 K Webster

  Cover Design: All By Design

  Photo: Adobe Stock

  Editor: WordNerd Editing

  Formatting: Raven Designs

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my husband, the ultimate alpha male.

  Contents

  Warning

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Meet the other Fathers

  Acknowledgments

  About K Webster

  Stalk Links

  Books by K Webster

  Warning

  You won’t like this hero.

  Prologue

  Eric

  Two weeks earlier…

  I always get what I want.

  In business. In life. In the sack.

  Always.

  Most people don’t get what they want because they ask for it, work toward it—they don’t take it.

  My entire life, that’s exactly what I’ve done.

  Take. Take. Take.

  And it’s worked beautifully. I’m the CEO of Four Fathers Freight, have four handsome sons who will make me proud one day, and more money than a man could dream of. Best of all, I have pussy on tap. If I want to get laid, all I have to do is smirk at the hottest woman in the room and within ten minutes, she’ll be riding my cock like it’s her birthright.

  Taking has worked like a charm.

  But there is one thing that I desperately want but haven’t taken yet. She comes in a tiny, sexy little brunette package and belongs to a glowering asshole who lives next door—the daughter of a man I’d love nothing more than to take out.

  She’s also my seventeen-year old son’s girlfriend.

  So, while taking has always been my thing, for once in my selfish life, I don’t take what I want. I sit back and watch her make out with my son, play grab ass with his brothers in our pool, and tease me every second of every goddamn day.

  I don’t take. I simply stare at what I’m not supposed to have.

  But a man can only take so much before he loses control…

  Especially a selfish bastard like myself.

  Chapter One

  Eric

  Present

  “Dude,” Trevor Blackstone, my best friend since college mutters, “you’re going to get your ass sent to prison or some shit.”

  I sip from my cold beer without sparing him a glance. My attention is on her. Always on her. Rowan Wheeler. Fuckin’ jailbait…until tomorrow. My cock stirs, but I ignore it. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten a boner in front of one of my best friends, or something I’d even give two shits about. But in front of all four of my sons and our sweet little neighbor? Isn’t fucking happening.

  “I’m just looking,” I reply coolly.

  He snorts. “You look like a damn tiger zeroing in on his prey. What are you going to do? Maul her?”

  The idea isn’t bad.

  Images of her sprawled out beneath me wearing my teeth marks does nothing to help the state of my semi-erect cock. “I can look.”

  “But you can’t touch, Pearson,” he reminds me, his voice turning slightly stern. Any other asshole I’d tell to fuck off, but Trevor is like the brother I never had. Hell, the kids even call him uncle.

  “Right,” I utter.

  He grumbles, because we both know I’m going to touch. I’m going to touch so much, she’ll never want the touch of anyone else again.

  “Babe, grab me a Coke,” my son Brock hollers.

  My cold heart does a slight quiver in my chest. This is the biggest complication. Not the fact that she’s seventeen for a few more hours. Not the fact that her father is a psycho asshole. Not the fact that she’s probably a virgin I’d have to teach everything to. The biggest complication is him. My son. Brock Pearson.

  He grins at her, boyish and goofy. Sure, he resembles me, probably the most of my four boys, but he’s still a child. Only seventeen himself. The kid has his entire life ahead of him. Settling for the sexy-ass neighbor at such a young age is beneath him. Hell, when I went to college, I fucked more women than I care to remember. Being exclusive with Rowan will limit him. He won’t get to experience things like his older brother Hayden has. Hayden, so much like myself, nearly got expelled for sleeping with one of his professors. If it weren’t for my hefty donation to get him out of that heap of shit, he’d be living in my house feeling sorry for himself.

  “Damn,” Trevor mutters. He may be trying to protect Brock from getting hurt when his father no doubt bangs his girlfriend, but even he’s not immune to Rowan’s incredible beauty.

  She reminds me of her.

  A spike of irritation surges through me. Julia left us. Several years ago, at one of our annual backyard barbeques, after a humiliating meltdown where she accused me of being a cheating asshole in front of all our friends and family, she bolted. Packed a bag and never returned, leaving our four young sons to their ill-equipped father to finish raising. I haven’t heard a word from the cunt since.

  Julia was my one true love. I believed in all that bullshit at the time. Fell head over heels for her, married her as soon as I could, and knocked her up four times in a row. Life was bliss—until she called me out for having an affair.

  “She looks like Julia,” I mutter aloud.

  Trevor grunts in agreement. “Another reason why you should stay the hell away.”

  Ignoring him, I watch as Rowan climbs out of the pool. Her dark brown hair is wet and hangs halfway down her back. With each step, her young ass bounces in the tiniest scrap of her bright orange bikini. She may be Brock’s girlfriend, but every one of my boys is smitten with her. Hayden plays it cool, but I don’t miss the way his eyes follow her everywhere. My fifteen and sixteen-year old sons, Camden and Nixon, get fucking boners they don’t hide very well any time she’s near.

  She has that effect on people.

  A sexy siren teasing every man with a working dick in the vicinity.

  Hayden pretends like he’s going to throw her back in the pool, but I know it’s just an excuse to grab her. His arms wrap around her waist and she squeals. Brock, the blind idiot, doesn’t even realize his older brother is rubbing his dick against her ass. But based on her blazing red cheeks, she now knows exactly how he feels about her.

  “Asshole,” she grumbles as she pushes him away. Her tits jiggle as she makes her way over to Trevor and me. The ice chest sits between our lounge chairs. I should tell her that her bikini top is askew and her pink nipple is showing, but I don’t.

  And Trevor, the dirty bastard, doesn’t mention it either.

&nbs
p; “Thirsty?” I question, my brow arched from behind my sunglasses.

  Her cheeks turn red again. “Brock is.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” I say with a wolfish grin.

  Understanding dawns in her brown eyes and her juicy plump pink lips part. “I…uh…”

  My gaze is on her gorgeous tits as I reach into the ice chest and grab a can of Coke. When I hand it to her, our fingers touch, and she shivers.

  “Thank you,” she breathes. I skim my gaze over the long, silvery scar across her forehead. She's had it for as long as I've known her. Instead of marring her perfect features, it only accentuates how real she is. How gorgeous she is despite the scar that is her only flaw.

  “My pleasure, angel.”

  Her smile is breathtaking and sweet. Someone like her would be so fun to mold into perfection in the bedroom. Whisper some flattering words in her ear. Teach her how to behave. Reward her when she does.

  She turns and sways her curvy hips as she makes her way back into the pool with my son. Trevor groans and digs around in the ice chest for another beer.

  “She’s hot,” he mutters, “I’ll give you that. She just seems more Levi’s type.”

  Levi Kingston is an investor at Four Fathers Freight and part owner along with myself, Trevor, and our friend Mateo Bonilla. Trevor is the CFO and really good at what he does. Where Trevor and I have a friendship based on knowing each other for half our lives, Levi and I have a different sort of friendship.

  We have similar dark, sexual preferences.

  In fact, we frequent sex clubs and strip joints. He was the one to introduce me to hiring high-dollar prostitutes on our birthdays because, and I quote, “Good men deserve to be spoiled by bad women every now and again.” He also sparked my interest in the whole daddy kink shit he’s got a hard-on for.

  And Rowan?

  I would love to daddy the fuck out of her.

  Bend her over my knee and spank her pretty little ass.

  My cock aches at the thought.

  “He’ll never touch her,” I bite out, a little harshly.

  Trevor laughs. “I’m just saying, he’s into the young ones. You’re usually into the expensive, high-maintenance chicks. The young and innocent ones are more his style.”

  “Maybe I’m bored and want something different,” I challenge.

  A sigh resounds from him. “You’re going to fuck everything up, man.”

  “I haven’t touched her yet.”

  “Yet,” he utters. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

  Ignoring him, I rise from my lounger, peel off my T-shirt, and lose my sunglasses. I work hard on my physique. I may be forty-five, but I have the body of a much younger man. Countless hours in the gym each day ensure that. As I saunter over to the edge of the pool, I see both my younger boys smiling at me. A niggle of guilt sluices through me. I’m a shitty father. Sure, I provide, and provide well. All my boys drive expensive sports cars, wear the nicest clothes, and will go to the best colleges. They hurt for nothing.

  Well, aside from my attention.

  I’m not like most fathers.

  I have a business to run—an empire to grow—so I may hand it over to them one day. I don’t have time to play catch or watch movies or whatever the fuck most fathers do.

  I give them money and that should be enough.

  Nixon tosses a football at me, but instead of catching it, I let it soar past me. Trevor grabs it and tosses it back. Uncle Trevor, as they like to call him, fills that daddy role much better than I do. I let out a sigh of relief that he’s wiped that puppy dog look off my son’s face.

  I make my way over to the diving board, catching Rowan’s gaze along the way. I don’t miss the way she rakes her curious eyes over my ripped chest. Smirking, I hop onto the diving board and walk to the edge. She’s now standing in the middle of the pool. Alone. Like a heat-seeking missile, I dive into the cold water and swim beneath the surface to where I can see her. I move toward her, and the moment she’s within reach, I grab her by the backs of the knees and pull her under. Her squeal makes my dick lurch in my trunks. She thrashes beneath the surface as she tries to escape me. I hear my sons hooting and hollering. We don’t wrestle around much, but I figure this is what normal dads do. I can be normal for five minutes if it gives me an excuse to touch Rowan.

  Someone strong tries to drag me away by my foot. I come up for air and see it’s Camden. He’s grinning like today’s the best day of his life. I splash him, wriggle away, then seek her out again. Under the water, I see her retreating form swimming toward Brock. Once again, I grab her and pull her under. This time, our eyes meet under the water, and hers are wide with shock. She squirms from my grip, so I slide my hand up to get a better handle on her. My fingers slide under her suit and brush against the lips of her pussy. Her thrashing stops. I pretend as though I don’t know where I have my hand and push my longest finger against her cunt. I’m met with tight resistance, but my finger breaches her opening to my first knuckle.

  Bubbles shoot from her mouth as she gets pulled away from my grasp. I resurface to see Brock kissing her neck.

  “I saved you,” he says, his voice playful.

  Camden tries to tackle me from behind, and I easily toss him into the deep end. Nixon and Trevor are having a heated football tossing match while Hayden watches me with a death glare from the other side of the pool. I wink at my oldest son.

  When I return my stare to Rowan, she’s blinking innocently, as if I didn’t just have my finger inside her. Her throat is bright red, and she seems distracted as Brock kisses the side of her neck.

  I swim a few laps and eventually grow bored.

  One day, I’m going to have that girl.

  Soon. Really fucking soon.

  Chapter Two

  Rowan

  I stare out my window and right into Brock’s. His curtains are open, but he’s not home yet. I’m eager to hang out with him before Daddy gets home tonight. Things are getting more serious lately.

  Well…they were.

  Shame ripples through me as I remember how turned on I was yesterday watching Brock’s father lying on the pool lounger, drinking his beer. He’s like the older, sexier, more muscled version of my boyfriend. I’d been drooling over him all afternoon. And when he swam straight for me, I’d been thrilled. His eyes are always on me, but he never acts on the heat burning in his steel-blue gaze. Not that he’d want someone like me. Little Rowan Wheeler, the virgin neighbor who’s still a daddy’s girl.

  I’ve seen the women Eric brings home. Tall, leggy, gorgeous, fake. He loves them dripping in shiny jewelry and wearing very little clothes. In comparison, I’m nothing. It’s strange to me that he seems to always be staring my way. Could someone like him want to be with someone like me?

  The thought brings guilt. My boyfriend is Brock. We haven’t had sex yet, but I know it’s coming. We’re working up to it. Today, I plan on giving him his first blow job. Well, I hope it’s his first. He told me it was. It’s certainly my first blow job. It may be my birthday, but I want to give this to him.

  It will erase some of the guilt.

  Remind me I’m with Brock and not Eric.

  Still, I can’t help but think about the shock of having his finger inside me. I think it was an accident, but his gaze was positively wolfish. Promising. Like he wanted to do more when people weren’t around. Thankfully, he never got the chance. Brock walked me home, and I didn’t see any more of Eric Pearson.

  I abandon the window on a hunt for something sexy to wear. If I’m going to give my first blow job, I want to look hot doing it. I peel off my T-shirt and rummage around in my closet for something that will hug my curves. I settle for a white halter-top dress. Once I yank it from the hanger, I walk out of the closet and toss it on the bed. I pull off my bra since it doesn’t go with the dress and stand in the middle of my room in nothing but my lacy pink panties.

  My core throbs, and I wonder if Brock will go down on me again. Last weekend, when h
is dad was away on a trip with his friend and my dad was on business, I stayed over. Brock and I slept naked together. We didn’t have sex, but we got close. He licked at my clit until I almost came. I was on the edge and hadn’t quite leapt off when Hayden busted us.

  More shame burns through me.

  Last summer, before Hayden went off to college, we all got really drunk on Eric’s liquor. Hayden pulled me onto his lap once his brothers passed out and kissed me dizzy. We made out for hours. I was silly enough to think he’d ask me out or something, but the next day, he acted like nothing happened. Not long after that, he went to college and I started dating Brock.

  Thoughts of all the Pearson men have me feeling flushed. Absently, I reach down and run my fingers over my clit through my panties. It feels good. I imagine it’s Brock’s fingers, but my fantasy turns dirty quickly. Brock morphs into Eric. Soft touches become rough ones. Sweet words become biting ones.

  “Mmmm,” I whimper.

  Steel-blue eyes pinning me. A hard, stone-like body pressed against my chest. Full lips kissing mine.

  My orgasm is close, but still so far away. With a frustrated groan, I give up and throw on my dress. Once it’s knotted behind my neck, I look at my reflection. I can’t say I’m displeased. According to my dad, I look just like my mother. I never knew her since she died having me. She had silky brown hair like mine and chocolate-colored eyes. I haven’t seen many pictures because it upsets him to keep them out, but I know I have her pouty lips too.