"Axel, come on!" I yelled to my eighteen year old son. He was always taking long to get ready, now that he was in college.

"Mom, you know how he is. Always gotta impress the girls." My twelve year old daughter, Michelle commented, eating her cereal. I laughed and ruffled her dark blonde hair. She had grey eyes just like her brother.

"So true. Axel, now!" I shouted, going into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Michael walked in, carrying his briefcase.

"Leave the boy alone, babe. He has to make sure he's looking sharp." Michael winked at me and kissed my cheek. "What's for breakfast?"

"No breakfast for you, my dear. You defended Axel." I said, tasting my cooking. I felt Michael's presence behind me and I bit my lip, smiling to myself.

"No breakfast for your wonderful husband? I thought I deserved better than that." He whispered in my ear, running his hands up my arms. After Natalie's fifth birthday, we dated for a year and a half longer before he swept me off to Bora Bora and proposed.

"Do you now?" I teased, turning my head to look up at him. He smiled and bent his head low to capture my lips between his. I closed my eyes, loving the feeling. I would never get used to this.

"Oh my god, Dad! Ew, I think I'm gonna puke." Natalie announced and we broke away, laughing.

"Just wait your turn. You'll be doing the same thing." Michael said to his seventeen year old daughter. She just scoffed and shook her blonde curls, texting one of her friends.

"Were they making out again?" Axel's deep voice asked as he came down the stairs. He had on a button down shirt with his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow. His dark jeans fit him nicely and his dark hair was gelled back. He was a handsome young man for sure.

"You look just like your father." I said softly. And that he did. There was no doubt he was Daxton King's son and the way he carried himself showed just as much power as his father did.

"I look nothing like Michael, Ma." He said winking one silver eye. I rolled my eyes and let him kiss my cheek. He didn't like to acknowledge Daxton as his father. To him, the only father he had and cared for was Michael. "What's for breakfast?" He asked. He towered over me with his 6'4" frame and I wondered when he would stop growing.

"Alright, both of you lazy boys get out my kitchen. Go." I swatted them out, both protesting. After breakfast, Axel took his car and drove himself and his sisters to school. I waved to Michael as he took off to go to work and I sighed, knowing today was the day. The day I was going to meet up with Daxton.

He only went to prison for ten years because of his expensive lawyers. He got out when Axel was fourteen and Axel wanted nothing to do with him. He remembers clearly what his father did to him and me, and even Michael. Daxton wrote me a bunch of times, wanting to meet up, but I didn't have the confidence to do it until today.

I drove to the park we used to go to all the time and waited for him.

"Arielle." I heard his voice before I saw him and I heard his footsteps walk around until he was facing me. His facial hair had grown out and he looked liked he aged more years than he actually was. He sat down next to me and I gripped the side of the bench. "Why so nervous, Ari?" His asked, humor in his voice.

"What do you want, Daxton? You wanted to meet, so here I am." I snapped, wanting to get straight to the point. He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

"I want to meet Axel." I laughed at his request.

"You know damn well he doesn't want to get to know you, Dax." I said. His green eyes flashed with anger before disappearing.

"He's my son. I deserve to see him. I haven't seen him in fourteen years." He said, gritting his teeth.

"And whose fault is that? You destroyed whatever bond you had with him and you will never, ever be able to take what you did back. You don't deserve to be a father." I spit out, getting up. I was done with this conversation.

"Don't walk away from me." Daxton's hand shot out and gripped my arm. I looked down at it as if he burned me.

"If you don't let go of me right now, I'll kick your balls so hard, you'll wish your boyfriend from prison was here to save you." I threatened and he let go quickly. I shrugged my shoulders, adjusted my jacket and walked off, leaving Daxton in the park.

Nothing and no one was going to ruin the perfect family I had, even if he was the father of my child.

Kaylie is sooooo sick of her Aunt Rita's constant barrage of thinly-veiled insults. The older woman never misses a chance to put down her niece or her mother, and this time Kaylie wasn't going to take any more of it.

She was going to get her revenge. And she was going to get it the only way how - through her Aunt Rita's hot, younger husband.

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This story is gonna get really hot and steamy, so I advise anyone younger than 16 to skip it. To everyone else - enjoy!

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Kaylie's Revenge is part of the three-story collection in Emilia's Revenge and Other Erotic Stories. Please find the link on my profile. Available on iTunes/iBooks, Smashwords, and Barnes & Noble. 

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EXCERPT:

"Your tongue felt so good ...," I whispered. "But you wanted to give me more."

Oliver sucked harder. I could feel his tongue flicking my nipple hungrily, desperately. What started as a hesitant tasting of my body turned into a ravenous feasting on my flesh.

Weak with desire, I was helpless to do anything but bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud as his mouth ravished every inch of my breast. I wanted to beg him to take me at that very moment. To thrust his manhood inside me, to fill me up with every inch of his sex until this aching need I felt was gone.

He pulled his hands from under my skirt to grab my waist and pull me closer to him. Then he tugged on my blouse, ripping my last two buttons, and pulled down the straps of my bra. He pushed me down to lie on the desk, and positioned himself between my parted legs. I didn't struggle, but he put his hands on my shoulder blades, pinning me down.

He looked down on me, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. I realized I had been holding my own breath.

"How much more, Kaylie?" he said.

"Everything," I said. "You wanted to give me every ... inch of you."

"You'll regret this," he said.

"Maybe." I sat up slowly, and reached down to grab his belt. As I unbuckled it, I looked up at him. "Will you make me regret this, Uncle Olie? I want to regret this a lot."