Son of a Preacher Man

By BL Morticia

The one kid that bothers you likes you.

Jared

AREN WINTERROTH!

Just his name made my blood boil. I'd seethed at the sight of him, knowing he was an entitled brat with a silver spoon in his mouth, with more money than God…

And untouched. With that in mind, I'd been thinking of the perfect way to get revenge on the bastard for making school life a living hell. Time to make Pastor Winterroth's boy my b*tch.

Aren

Jared and I have been rivals for years. He always tried to out class me in everything but failed at every turn. In my mind, we were too old to continue fighting, but since the jackass wanted to carry on this BS, I'd let him. Even better, when I heard his hatred covered up lusty feelings he'd harbored since we were kids.

When a mutual friend of theirs makes a bet with Jared, he's confident that he'll win. But Aren plans to beat his nemesis at his own game and best him again.

Son of a preacher man is a short story with snippy characters, dirty talk, and some serious sexing in the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Triad Literary Books
• Release date: Jul 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393297857

Book preview

Chapter One

Jared

Turning twenty-one meant I could finally do anything I damn well pleased. The only problem was, I’d done mostly everything before age eighteen.

With Mom working two jobs, my older sister Gina and I practically raised ourselves. We lived off microwave dinners and late-night television, then when Mom made it home, we rushed to bed before she caught us.

Mom’s long schedules didn’t stop her from attending church. Two nights during the week for Bible study and every Sunday for nine a.m. mass. That didn’t include the Saturday socials or any other thing Pastor Winterroth had cooked up for our small Illinois town. She was convinced the more we all attended, the closer we’d be to getting through the holy gates. Really, I thought it as more of a hinderance. Dressing up on Sundays after partying the night before was enough.

Much to Mom’s chagrin, I had no interest in church. Nothing against her or the pastor, but I liked being a sinner. Sinning meant new experiences and doing fun things you’d tell anyone who listened. Bible thumping wasn’t in my DNA anyway since my sperm donor hightailed it out of here before I was born.

The pastor’s son, Aren was the only reason I’d pull myself together to attend service. Despite my envy dating back to Rolling Meade Elementary days, I had a crush on him something fierce. Due to my absolute disdain for the twerp, I hadn’t made a move.

Jared. Saw you checking out Winterroth again.

I promptly stopped the stupid pet tricks video on my phone and looked up. You didn’t see anything. Aren and I don’t get along.

You sure? Because I could’ve sworn—

"Knock it off, Blackie. Blackie was my nickname for my friend, Blake Keys. He seemed to hate it when we were younger, but he’d more than grown accustomed to it. You know me and Aren can’t stand each other. It’s been that way since grammar school."

Hey dude. Sometimes, you gotta let things go! Don’t you think eleven years is enough time to hold on to a grudge?

Hells no.

While I listened to Blackie talk, I closed out the clip and checked my messages. Nothing from my sister, which meant I might dodge church tonight. There we more important things to do than sit up and listen to the pastor talking about needing to be saved from hellfire. Namely, a night out that ending with a willing body, taking me deep.

Jared? Are you fucking listening?

At the sound of my name, I looked up. Shit! What?

I said, isn’t—

I held my hand up and snickered. "I heard you, asshole. And to answer your question, no. I hate Aren Winterroth and still do."

Why? ‘Cause he’s rich?

’Cause he’s a snooty preppy kid whose everyone’s fucking favorite. I snapped.

And a hot ass motherfucker too.

Dang, Jared! We’re out of school now. That shit is childish. My other friend, Raymond added.

So it is. I don’t like the guy. Never have.

"Uh huh. You hate him so much you checked out his ass." Blackie laughed and pushed my arm.

Raymond and his girlfriend, Cecilia hooted and taunted me.

All right, so I was. I gotta admit the fucker is kind of cute. I still hate his guts though. I tried taking the attention off myself.

Though true that I lusted after Aren, I wouldn’t sing his praises. Our rivalry had lasted for years. It was easier to hate the fucker than love him.

Besides, his dad, the local church pastor, loathed me too. Stealing his car when I was fifteen didn’t help matters but, hey, I was a stupid kid. I was