Blackmailed by my Step Son
Copyright 2013 By JB Richards
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age.
I pulled into the driveway and paused, willing my hands to quit trembling. They ignored me. My face was a puffy, red mess. I was worried that if I thought too hard about the whole situation, the tears would start up again, and I’d probably be stuck out in my car until Don, my husband, came home a few hours later. That would be horrible. I couldn’t let him know that I’d gotten fired. Worse, he couldn’t ever find out why I’d gotten fired. I’d die of shame and that’d be the end of everything.