My best friend's dad

I should’ve left right after.

I should’ve pulled on my clothes, run out of the house, and pretended none of it ever happened. That I hadn’t let my best friend’s father bury himself inside me. That I hadn’t loved it.

But I didn’t leave.

Because when he kissed me again, slow and filthy, his fingers still between my legs, I realized I didn’t want to.

Mr. Callahan. . . Daniel. . . was addictive.

And I was already hooked.

I stayed the night. We didn’t sleep. He had me on the bed, then against the door. On the floor. Even in the shower when we tried to cool off and failed. I lost count of how many times he made me come. How many times had he whispered things in my ear that no man ever had.

“You’re mine now. No one touches you but me.”

I knew it was dangerous. That we were playing with fire.

But I also knew I would burn for him a thousand times over.

The next morning, I slipped downstairs in nothing but his T-shirt and nothing underneath, skin still tingling, thighs sore. The scent of coffee filled the kitchen, and I found him shirtless again, leaning on the counter like a sin I hadn’t confessed yet.

He looked up and smiled like I belonged there.

“I made you breakfast.”

“You keep feeding me,” I murmured, stepping into his arms.

He pulled me into his lap like it was second nature.

“I plan to keep you well-fed,” he said, kissing my neck. “And well-fucked.”

I laughed into his shoulder, cheeks flushing.

“I’m serious, Emma. You’re not some one time mistake. I want more than last night.”

I leaned back, surprised by the seriousness in his tone.

“I’m not just Ava’s dad,” he said. “I’m also a man who hasn’t wanted anything real in a long time. Until you.”

My heart stuttered.

“But this is… complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” His hand slid up my bare thigh. “You’re not a child. You’re not my child. And Ava’s gone for the next six months.”

“But when she comes back”

“We will deal with that when it happens.”

His hand reached higher, he found my pussy. I gasped.

“Still so wet for me.”

“Daniel”

“I want you upstairs,” he said. “On your knees. Mouth open.”

“Here?” I breathed.

He stood, picking me up with ease.

“No,” he growled. “Now.”

Ten minutes later, I was kneeling on the bed, naked, thighs pressed together for any kind of friction. He stood in front of me, slowly stroking himself while watching me squirm.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured.

I leaned forward, licking the head of his cock. I feel his breath hitched.

“Don’t tease me, baby. Take it.”

I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around him. He groaned and sank deeper, fingers in my hair as I sucked him slowly, deliberately, moaning around him.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Such a good mouth.”

I worked him harder, faster, loving the way his body tensed because of what I was doing to him. His hips began to move in shallow thrusts. Controlled, but hungry.

“You gonna swallow me like a good girl?”

I nodded.

He growled and pushed deeper into my mouth. I took him all, throat relaxing, eyes watering, but I didn’t stop. I loved the power of having him come undone because of me.

His grip tightened in my hair.

“I’m gonna come! fuck! Emma!”

He spilled into my mouth with a groan, hips jerking. I swallowed every drop, licking him clean.

When I looked up, his eyes were wild.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

I smiled, wiping my mouth.

“Then die happy.”

For the next two weeks, we couldn’t get enough of each other.

I stopped by under the pretense of “grabbing more boxes” or “feeding Ava’s cat” until those excuses no longer mattered. Daniel started texting me, telling me when he wanted me, and where. He came to my apartment one night and bent me over my kitchen counter.

I saw him in his car outside my campus, dragging me into the backseat before I could say hello. He pulled my panties down and slid inside me, hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream his name too loud.

The secrecy only made it hotter.

Every glance across the dinner table. Every stolen touch. Every time he pinned me against the wall before I could say no, and made me come so hard I forgot my own name.

I was falling. Fast and Deep. And I didn’t know how to stop it.

But the obsession went both ways.

One night, I was out with classmates, nothing serious. Just drinks and studying. But when I didn’t answer my phone for an hour, Daniel showed up at the bar.

He didn’t care that my friends were there.

He found me near the back booth and dragged me out by the wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed, stumbling after him in heels.

“You didn’t answer me,” he growled, pushing me against his car.

“I was studying, Daniel.”

“You were with guys.”

“And?”

He slammed his hand on the car behind me. Not hard. Just enough to make me jump. “And You’re mine, Emma.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to act like you own me”

“I do own you,” he snapped. “You gave yourself to me. I’ve been inside you more times than I can count. I know how you taste. I know how you sound when you fall apart. And I know no other man will ever touch you again.”

I stared at him, chest rising and falling. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m possessive.” Then he opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

“Why?”

“Because if I fuck you against the hood of my car, your friends are gonna see.”

My pulse exploded. I got in.

He didn’t drive home.

He drove to a dark street, parked, and pulled me into his lap right there.

“Ride me.”

I straddled him, hiking my dress up and lowering onto him in one motion.

He filled me completely, and I gasped against his shoulder.

His hands gripped my hips, guiding me up and down.

“You make me crazy,” he muttered. “I should’ve walked away the moment you moaned my name.”

“I don’t want you to walk away.”

He thrust harder, deeper, until the windows fogged and the car rocked.

“I’ll never walk away,” he promised. “You’re mine now. And I don’t share.”