“May I help you?” she asked.
He lifted a brow. Her question should’ve irked him. She lounged in his father’s house, as if she belonged there. But the light sound of her voice brought wicked images to his mind.
“What type of help are you offering?”
A blush crept into her cheeks, yet she grinned. Mischief lit her eyes. Her stunning face would work as well on-camera as her perfect body.
She held out her hand. “I’m Story. Babs’ daughter.”
Fuck! This girl wasn’t a servant’s daughter, taking advantage of his father’s generosity and liberalism. She was his stepsister.
Believing her mother to be an opportunist, he wanted to resent her. For some reason, he walked forward and took her hand into his. “Max,” he introduced.
“Max,” she breathed, her friendliness turning wary. “Winston’s son?”
His reputation preceded him.
“The porn star,” she giggled out nervously.
His career wasn’t a secret, but it shocked him that she brought it up. Most people refused to admit they liked porn.
He nodded, enjoying the blush creeping over her entire body. “The same.”
She was still giggling. He waited for his annoyance at the grating sound. It didn’t come. Once again, he nodded.
“Or is it Dick Head?” she asked around peals of laughter that drew a chuckle from him.
“Have you watched me?”
That shut her up. She snapped her mouth shut and offered him and under-eyed look. “Maybe,” she responded in a sing-song tone.
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