Craving My Best Friend's Father

Asher's POV

The party was lame as fuck.

The bass pounded so hard Asher had to grit his teeth, the sound drowning out everything else. The room was packed with horny losers, and he couldn’t even remember why he’d bothered showing up.

Then he caught the familiar, drunken laugh.

He turned and spotted Luca—his best friend—chugging beer like a maniac, head thrown back, laughing too loud.

Asher rolled his eyes and sighed.

Right. That was why he came. Luca had practically begged him to tag along, only to abandon him the second they walked through the door.

Some girl’s glitter body paint was smeared in ugly streaks across his white T-shirt.

He was backed against the kitchen island while a blonde sophomore—Kayla? Kaylee? He didn’t even know—ground her chest against him like she was trying to get into his skin.

Another girl already had her fingers hooked in his belt buckle, tugging like she planned to strip him right there in front of everyone.

Jesus Christ.

“Relax,” Asher laughed, trying to peel the blonde off without looking like a total dick. “I’m good, chill.”

“You can’t just be good,” she slurred, leaning in to drag her tongue along the shell of his ear. “You’re so fucking handsome. Am I not hot enough? My pussy is so tight, you’ll love it, I swear.”

At six-three with jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and the kind of face that turned heads, Asher was used to this kind of attention. That didn't mean he wanted it tonight.

He hissed in irritation and pushed her back, finally freeing himself enough to look across the room.

As always, their eyes met.

Luca, even three sheets to the wind, instantly clocked the SOS. He stumbled over, barely upright, and slung a heavy arm around Asher’s neck.

“Ladies,” he bellowed over the music, “back the fuck off my boy. He’s gay for me tonight.”

The girls pouted and whined, but Luca was already dragging Asher toward the door. Asher let him.

Outside, the cold air hit like a slip making Asher shiver.

“This party sucked,” Luca said, swinging a half-empty tequila bottle. “Bunch of freshmen trying to suck their own dicks.”

Asher snorted. “You’re one to talk. You did three keg stands and you’re trashed.”

“Yeah, but I still have standards.” Luca bumped their shoulders together. “Let’s get out of this dump. My place. I hope Dad’s still out of town. We’ll raid the good liquor and pass out like real men.”

Asher shook his head. “You already reek of booze, you alcoholic.”

Fifteen minutes later they stumbled into the Rossi mansion—a sprawling, beautiful, estate where Asher had spent most of his childhood.

Luca’s dad, Mr Rossi or Nico—was an ex-military private security contractor.

He was built like a goddamn wall, strict as hell, and gone half the month for work. He's been single since Luca’s mom died giving birth to him.

The man needed to chill the fuck out.

Nico had been terrifying when they were kids. Honestly, he was still kind of terrifying.

Asher steadied Luca as he staggered through the front door. Luca kicked off his shoes, collapsed face-first onto the leather couch, and started snoring within ten seconds.

Asher’s head was still buzzing, his throat raw from yelling over music all night. He headed to the kitchen for water.

The house was dark except for the soft under-cabinet glow. The silence felt almost eerie.

He was twisting the cap off a bottle when he heard it.

A low grunt.

Then again.

It came from downstairs—from the basement gym Nico had converted into his private domain years ago.

Asher should have just finished the water and crashed next to Luca on the couch.

But the sound kept going. It got louder. Clearer.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh. And a deep, filthy growl he’d never heard before.

What the fuck?

His heart suddenly hammering, Asher moved before he could talk himself out of it.

He headed down the halls then down the stairs. With every step, the sounds became louder.

The basement door was cracked open so he stopped in the shadows and looked.

His mouth dropped.

Nico Rossi stood naked and gleaming with sweat under the low lights, his every muscle carved and tense.

Some guy was bent over the weight bench—his ass up and his wrists zip-tied to the barbell rack.

His back was arched and Nico’s huge hand was fisted in the stranger’s hair, yanking his head back while he fucked into him with brutal, punishing strokes.

Asher’s gaze dropped.

Holy shit.

Nico’s cock was thick, veiny, obscene—bigger than Asher had ever seen. It slammed in to the hilt, pulled out dripping, then drove back in so hard the bench creaked.

“Take it,” Nico snarled, his voice rough with lust. “Fucking take my cock in your ass.”

The guy whimpered and pushed his hips higher, desperate for Nico.

Asher couldn’t move. His pulse thundered in his ears. His dick was so hard it hurt, straining painfully against the denim of his jeans.

I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m not gay.

The mantra didn’t help.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nico’s flexing back, the clench of his powerful ass with every deep thrust, the way the stranger’s hole stretched wide and obscene around that massive cock.

Liquid dripped down the guy’s thighs. The air smelled like raw sex.

Asher should leave.

He should turn around right now.

Instead, his hands moved as if on autopilot.

And then before he knew what was happening, he started stroking himself right there in the hallway, his eyes locked on the scene like a man possessed.

Nico’s hips snapped forward again. The bench scooted an inch across the floor.

“That’s it,” Nico growled. “Milk my cock, you greedy little slut.”

The stranger cried out, his body jerking as he came untouched.

The filthy sound of Nico’s voice alone was enough.

Asher’s orgasm hit him like a freight train. Thick ropes of cum shot across his fingers, and splattered the hardwood.

His knees buckled; he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan.

Nico didn’t stop even though the guy had cum. He fucked the guy through the aftershocks until he was shaking and babbling.

Then he pulled out, ripped the ties on his hand, and spun the stranger around before shoving his cock down the guy’s throat.

Asher watched as his best friend father's head tipped back, his throat working, a deep guttural sound tearing out of him while he unloaded.

For one terrifying heartbeat, Nico’s head tilted—like he’d heard something.

His eyes narrowed toward the cracked door.

Asher immediately stopped breathing.

Then Nico smirked darkly, and slammed back in one final time.

Asher stayed frozen in the shadows long after Nico finished, his mind reeling.

Holy shit.

He thought, dazed and trembling, that he might actually be gay.