ARROGANT BASTARD

COPYRIGHT 2015 WINTER RENSHAW

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher or author. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or received an advanced copy directly from the author, this book has been pirated.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, if an actual place, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

COVER DESIGN—Louisa Maggio, LM Creations

PROOF READING—Wyrmwood Editing

DEDICATION

For my husband. This book would not have been possible without you. Thanks for putting up with a bright laptop screen in your bed until 2am, even on your work nights.

xoxo

-W

OTHER BOOKS BY WINTER RENSHAW

Never Kiss a Stranger
(Never Series #1)

Never Is a Promise
(Never Series #2)

Never Say Never
(Never Series #3)

Arrogant Master—Coming Soon!

Dark Paradise—Coming Fall 2015!

DESCRIPTION

The last time my father beat me to a bloody pulp was the night he walked in on me banging my step-mother in his bed.

To be fair, she seduced me. And to be honest, I liked it. But to CPS, I was a victim.

They shipped me to Utah where my estranged mother lived with her husband and two sister-wives. And that’s when I met her. My innocent, wholesome, perfect step-sister. Well, one of many. But Waverly stood out because just like me, we’d been fighting a losing battle our entire lives.

Falling for her was a mistake, but shit, it’s not like I ever made good decisions.

Fuck being “family.” I must have Waverly Miller, and I won’t stop until she’s mine.

LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Readers,

Although this book deals with modern polygamy (think
Big Love
or
Sister Wives
) and mentions certain polygamous subsets of the Mormon religion, it is intended to be read purely for entertainment. None of the opinions or details mentioned in this book, in regards to any mentioned religious groups, are meant to be offensive, attacking, or controversial. This is, after all, a work of fiction.

So sit back, relax, and step foot inside the modern polygamous world I’ve created. ;-)

xoxo,

Winter

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOGUE
- JENSEN

ONE
- JENSEN

TWO
- WAVERLY

THREE
- JENSEN

FOUR
- WAVERLY

FIVE
- JENSEN

SIX
- WAVERLY

SEVEN
- JENSEN

EIGHT
- WAVERLY

NINE
- JENSEN

TEN
- WAVERLY

ELEVEN
- JENSEN

TWELVE
- WAVERLY

THIRTEEN
- JENSEN

FOURTEEN
- WAVERLY

FIFTEEN
- JENSEN

SIXTEEN
- WAVERLY

SEVENTEEN
- JENSON

EIGHTEEN
- WAVERLY

NINETEEN
- JENSEN

TWENTY
- WAVERLY

TWENTY-ONE
- JENSEN

TWENTY-TWO
- WAVERLY

TWENTY-THREE
- JENSEN

TWENTY-FOUR
- JENSEN

TWENTY-FIVE
- WAVERLY

TWENTY-SIX
- JENSEN

TWENTY-SEVEN
- WAVERLY

TWENTY-EIGHT
- JENSEN

TWENTY-NINE
- WAVERLY

THIRTY
- JENSEN

THIRTY-ONE
- WAVERLY

THIRTY-TWO
- JENSEN

EPILOGUE
- WAVERLY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

COMING SOON

Two days ago

It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.

“Oh, my
God
, Jensen.” My stepmother moaned as she wrapped her long legs around my hips. She tangled her fingers in the dark mess of hair that covered my head as she gripped a fistful of the sheets that wrapped my parents’ marital bed in the other hand. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, yes, yes, oh, yeah…”

I pushed my cock deep inside her, each deliberate thrust making her moan louder than the one before. It was never about the sex for me.

This one’s for the black eye he gave me after I disagreed with his sermon.

This one’s for the busted lip he said I earned after he caught me flirting with a girl at a church supper.

This one’s for all the times he told me how worthless I was, and for every time he reminded me that the day I was born was the worst day of his life.

The muscles of her thirty-eight-year-old pussy clenched around my throbbing cock, coaxing me closer to the edge with each buck of our hips on that glorious Saturday morning in May. I stared at the wall behind the headboard. A gold cross hung strong and unapologetic. In an ironic twist of fate, my father had run out to counsel a couple at the church. They were having marital problems.

“He’s going to be home soon, Juliette,” I whispered, urging her to hurry up and come. I twisted my fingers around the pearl necklace she wore on Sunday mornings as she did her due diligence as the preacher’s wife. With a smile as fake as his wife’s tits, my father pretended not to care when people checked her out. I was certain he loved the fact that even her Sunday best didn’t do a damn thing to hide her hourglass curves.

Juliette tended to take her time when we fucked, enjoying each and every second of being devoured by the one person she wasn’t supposed to. She was all kinds of fucked up. My father always claimed he’d found her outside of a strip club, then he helped her to “find God,” which was code for brainwashing her into believing everything that came out of his mouth while keeping her under his thumb.

For a man of the cloth, his heart was the blackest of blacks, tarnished by years of lies, self-loathing, and hypocrisy.

“I wish we could do this all day long,” she breathed, her face twisted in ecstasy. She bit her lip, which I’d learned early on was her way of signaling she was ready for me to blow my load inside her. Juliette always loved it when we came at the same time. She said it was the only time she ever felt connected to another human being.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” I groaned.

An explosion of hot cum caused a ripple through my body so intense I couldn’t see straight. And the last thing I remembered before what would be the very the last time I ever came inside my stepmother, was the way
he
said my name.

“Jensen.” His voice embodied the throaty, animalistic warning of a lion about to annihilate his prey.

Juliette scrambled beneath me, pushing me off her as a look of fear in her eyes clashed with the orgasmic flush that colored her cheeks. We’d imagined this scenario a hundred times before, but talking about it was different than playing it out in real life. It was a lot funnier in our minds, probably because he was such an asshole. Maybe I deserved some of it, but she sure as fuck didn’t.

And if fucking her emotionally depraved stepson made her feel better about her pathetic little puppy-on-a-leash life, than who was I to judge? She was hot as sin and scarcely old enough to be my mother. I had no problem plunging my cock inside her on a weekly basis. I’d been doing it since the year I got my driver’s license.

Juliette had been moaning my name for the last thirty minutes, but now all she could scream was, “No, no, no, no!”

I didn’t realize I was within an inch of my life until my father’s fingers curled around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. He slammed my back against the wall. I was naked. I didn’t remember being pulled off the bed, but all of a sudden I was on the other side of the room, face-to-face with the man who’d brought me into this world. He was two seconds from ripping my balls off and shoving them down my throat.

How long had he been watching us?

“You arrogant little bastard!”
he seethed, his nostrils flaring as venomous spit accompanied his words.

I couldn’t breathe, but damn if my lips didn’t twist into a smile. He called me
“little.”
I towered over that son of a bitch, and he knew it. Plus, according to my stepmother, height wasn’t the only way in which I outsized my father.

He clenched his hand harder around my throat, pressing against my windpipe as I gasped for air. Within seconds the room began to darken, and Juliette’s hysterical shrieks echoed off the walls.

“Josiah, stop! You’re going to kill him!”