Craving My Best Friend's Daddy

“Fuck, baby, right there. Yeah, don’t stop.”

I froze. My feet freeze to the floor. The door was open just a little, but it was enough for me to see everything.

The ugly sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. I could hear the wet moans and the headboard banging the wall violently.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

“No, no. This isn't what I think it is,” I whispered to myself. But I didn't want to believe something like that was actually happening . 

I pushed the door open just a little more, just enough to see the two naked bodies tangled in the sheets.

I knew those tattoos and that back. Even those strong arms wrapped around the woman’s waist.

“Harder, harder. Fuck me harder.”

That voice. God, I knew that voice my whole life.

I stepped into the room in careful steps, my lips trembling.

“Brandon?” My voice cracked between shock.

The bed stopped moving immediately, and my boyfriend, Brandon, pulled back and looked at me with wide eyes. His face was flushed with immediate embarrassment. His dick was still hard and still wet from the woman under him.

And the moment the woman turned her face toward me, gosh,

“Mom?” My voice broke into tiny, broken pieces.

She did not even cover herself or try to hide herself. She just stared at me with this coldness like she was not sorry. Like she wasn't even feeling ashamed. 

Her legs were still spread wide open, and my boyfriend was still in between them.

“What the fuck is going on here?” My voice shot up, shaking. 

I don't want to believe it, but even when I pinch myself to wake up from this unbelievable nightmare, I was still standing here. It's real.

Brandon scrambled off the bed quickly, his dick swinging sideways as he quickly pulled on his pants. His face was pale like he had seen a ghost.

“Aria, I swear it is not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like?” I screamed, tears burning in my eyes. “Dude, you are fucking my mother.”

My mother sat up slowly, dragging the sheets over her chest but her eyes never looked sorry. She was looking so calm like they've been doing this before, and it wasn't just the first time doing it, only that I had caught them for the first time.

“Aria, calm down,” she said, like I was a little child throwing a tantrum. “You and Brandon were never going to last in the first place. I just gave him what you could not.”

Her words stabbed me in the chest like a knife, my knees went weak. But I steadied myself against the wall.

“Shut the fuck up,” I screamed in horror from her words. My eyes went wide from so much shock. My whole body was shaking from disappointment and my heart continued breaking with each passing minute.

Brandon rushed toward me, trying to touch me. “Baby, please, I was drunk. I did not mean it. She came to me first, I was weak, I was really stupid.”

I slapped him so hard across the face his head turned.

“You were weak? But I just met you fucking my mother with so much happiness which looked like you were not forced or drunk when swirling and slamming your cock into her. Gosh, Brandon!”, I lamented, as hot tears flowed down my face, while I wiped it with the back of my hand. 

“I wouldn't feel this hurt if it were another woman, but dude, it's my mother. My goddamn mom. And not only that, on my own bed.”

His hands dropped to his sides, as his mouth flew open, but no words came out.

I turned to my mother with so much hate in my eyes and disgust from her naked body. 

My whole life, I had looked up to her like a child would. I had trusted her so much because she was my mother, and she was supposed to protect me, not ruin me. Not like this.

Tears spilled from my eyes, while I stared daggers right into her wide orbs..

“You are disgusting,” My words came out like a whisper, with my throat thick with pain. “I hope you rot in hell and fuck the devil himself.”

My mother just smirked. “Get over it, Aria. He was never yours to have in the first place.”

I turned and stormed out of the room, my vision blurry with both shed and unshed tears, but my legs moved fast. I grabbed my purse from the center table in the living room and slammed the front door shut.

I could still hear Brandon shouting behind me, and my mother laughing evilly like a witch.

I walked fast, almost running into a car, because I could not breathe. I could not even think straight at this point, because my chest feels like it would explode right at this point.

I just needed to get away right now from this fucking mess. I needed to burn this night from my memory.

So I quickly pulled out my phone and booked a ride to the club, and quickly texted my best friend, Bella.

*Out tonight. I need to fuck away this pain*

She texted back with a laughing face and a heart. I did not tell her what happened, because she wouldn't understand. And I really feel disgusted, telling that kinda stuff to somebody else.

The moment the cab arrived, I got into it, while steading my shaky hands as I wiped my tears with a tissue. 

I would not let them break me. Never.

The club was loud when I stepped in. The bass was hard, and the air was thick with people's sweat and smoke. I walked straight to the bar stand and ordered tequila shots.

One shot. Two shots. Three shots. My throat burned, but I welcomed the fire.

I turned my head and saw a man, sitting alone at a corner. He had his drink in his hand, while his eyes scanned the room like he was looking for someone.

His black shirt hugged his chest perfectly, and his sleeves were rolled up showing his strong arms nicely. He looked older. Maybe twice my age, but I did not care.

I wanted to feel something else tonight. I wanted to forget about the goddamn mess threatening to scatter my sanity and my mental health.

Soon, our eyes met, and his gaze stayed on me, deep and hard like he could see right through my broken heart.

I bit my lip seductively and flashed him my best smile.  

His lips curved into a small, dangerous smile, like he knew exactly what I was doing.

I walked to his table and sat down without asking.

“Buy me a drink,” I said, my voice coming out soft but sharp.

He stared at me for a long second before answering. “You look like you already had enough.”

“Trust me,” I said, leaning forward, “I can handle more than just a drink.”

His eyes dragged over my body, slow and heated, while his hand brushed my chin, tilting my face up to him. His touch was firm, and his fingers felt warm against my skin.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby girl.”

“Maybe I do.”

His thumb brushed my lower lip, dragging across it with a pressure that made my breath hitch.

“Be careful what you ask for,” he whispered. “I bite.”

“Then bite me,” I murmured, licking his thumb slowly.

He chuckled low and dark, then stood up, his hand slipping into mine.