Being the daughter of an A-list celebrity got me lots of things, but it didn't get me the one thing I wanted most…
My stepdad.
Grayson Kane liked to pretend I was just his wife's daughter, that whatever tension crackled between us wasn't a two-way street. Until I sent the 'accidental' nude, that is. Then it became abundantly clear that he should leave the acting to my mother.
He could deny it for eternity, but he wanted me, too, and no amount of distance or superimposed rules were going to keep me from doing what I do best—pushing limits for sport.
Unfortunately for him, Grayson was nothing but limits. Calm, controlled, coiled so tight it was practically an invitation.
Behave, Lyric.
Or else.
Cute, as if I didn't like the or else as much as he liked enforcing it.
He called it discipline.
I called it foreplay.
Eventually, this brat got her way. What started off as casual and unassuming turned into something we were never supposed to want, let alone act on. And with my mother one bad headline away from disaster, and the tabloids always hungry for blood, we had every reason to stop.
We didn't.
Some choices are worth the fallout.
This one was worth everything.