The Sweetest Revenge – A Forbidden Romance Read Online Cassandra Dee

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Sweetest Revenge - A Forbidden Romance

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Cassandra Dee

Book Information:

The sweetest revenge? Getting back at my cheating boyfriend by sleeping with his DAD.
Dakota: Some people say it’s sick and twisted, but I’m a sassy woman who doesn’t take humiliation well. Sure, Eddie and I were going through a rough patch in our relationship but that doesn’t mean he had to hook up with my mom! Yep, you heard that right. I caught my boyfriend and my mother in bed together, but don’t worry … I always get the last laugh.
Jack: Dakota’s a feisty woman and I’ve noticed her ever since my son Eddie brought her home that first night. To say she’s out of Eddie’s league would be an understatement. But after the unthinkable happens, Dakota approaches me with a sexy idea: her body as a form of revenge. What she doesn’t realize is that I want more than those luscious curves. I want a baby with the sassy girl, and I won’t stop until she’s round and heavy with my child!
Books by Author:

Cassandra Dee



* * *

Pulling into the driveway at home, I drop my head back and close my eyes. I love my job at Red Bean Coffee. My co-workers are great, and so are our customers. Plus, being a trained barista has its benefits because when my own caffeine cravings hit, it’s easy enough to pull a shot. But today was a long day, and I didn’t have a chance to take a lunch so I’m starving and grateful to be home. I’m just thankful that our last customer got their latte and left without lingering around the shop.

Opening my eyes, I take in the mansion I live in with my mother and shake my head before heading inside. After my parents divorced, Denise, as my mother prefers to be called in front of others, became a realtor. It wasn’t long after when she bought this house. The place is over the top with its seven bedrooms and six baths, but she insists that good realtors have to live in extravagant homes if they want their clients to trust them. Of course, in her opinion a house is either palatial, or it’s a dump; there’s no in-between. I guess it doesn’t matter that these digs have her overextended with a massive mortgage she can barely cover.

But hopefully, I’ll be able to move out soon. Living with my mom has never been easy, but now that I’m in community college, it seems like her bitchy attitude has taken on new strength. Particularly when it comes to my weight. Denise is as thin as a whip, and in her opinion, skinny is the only acceptable weight for all women. She keeps her figure paper-thin through a steady diet of nothing at all. I swear, she lives on water and punishing workouts. I’ve seen her suck the flavor out of an almond here and there, but I’m certain she’s never been bold enough to actually swallow one. Calories are a girl’s number one enemy, after all.

By contrast, skinny and I do not belong in the same sentence. I am, and have always been, a curvy girl, much to my mother’s dismay. No matter how many diets I’ve tried, or how much I exercise, I cannot make the number go down on the scale. In my mom’s opinion, that means I’m not trying hard enough, a.k.a., I haven’t thrown myself into the diet where I starve myself completely while working out more hours a day than I sleep. I just can’t do it. I like food, and I absolutely detest being hungry.

But at least Denise isn’t home right now, so I can cook in peace. Putting a pan on the stove, I pour in light olive oil, and put the heat on medium. Then, I grab a chicken breast from the fridge and season it with garlic and rosemary, as well as a dash of salt and pepper. Even though I can’t lose weight, I still appreciate eating delicious, mouthwatering meals, and enjoy preparing food too. After all, life is short and eating is one of the great blessings of being human.

Suddenly, a loud thumping sound distracts me right as I’m about to add the chicken to the hot oil. I groan to myself. We had raccoons in our attic last year, and it was awful. They’re probably back again, and my heart sinks because getting rid of rodents when your mother refuses to pay a professional exterminator is a huge pain. I’m not looking forward to confronting the varmints all over again, but what choice do I have?

Sighing, I turn off the stove to be safe and stick the plate with my still uncooked chicken breast on it back in the fridge before heading upstairs to look for the raccoons. Hopefully, they’re friendly this year.

I trudge to the main landing upstairs, but surprisingly, the sounds aren’t coming from above my head. Last year, I could definitely hear the raccoons scurrying about on the roof, and it was awful. It’s hard to fall asleep when the scuttle of small rodent feet keeps scratching relentlessly. But today, the noises are coming from down the hall this time. Really? Did the raccoons find some way to get into the walls? God help me, but I hope they’re not indoors. I would absolutely scream.

Tentatively, I creep down the hallway. I don’t want to confront the rodents, but I know I have to because Denise certainly won’t, that’s for sure. Some things don’t bother my mom at all. She likes her life to look nice on the outside, so our house always has a perfectly manicured lawn and an immaculately swept driveway. But on the inside, things could be falling apart and she wouldn’t care. We could live in a dump, as long as people don’t see.

Slowly, I stalk closer to the master suite in the back. By now, the scratching sounds have turned into odd thumps, and I pause. The raccoons must have gotten a rock, and they’re banging it against the carpeted floor. But why would they do that? Creeping closer, I lean forward and peer into the master suite. I half expect to see rodents riding around on tricycles, but a gasp escapes me instead because it’s not raccoons at all. It’s my mom and my boyfriend Eddie humping like rabbits!