I never thought having a stepdad would feel like this—dangerous, forbidden, and so fucking tempting it made me ache in places I didn’t want to admit.

It started the day he showed up at my school. Mr. Carter. That’s what everyone called him in class. My new English teacher. My mother’s brand-new husband. My stepdad.

I should’ve hated him, should’ve felt betrayed that Mom remarried so quickly after Dad left. Instead, the first time I saw him standing at the front of the classroom, crisp white shirt stretched across his broad chest, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose… I wanted him. Badly....