LUSTING AFTER MY FATHER’s BEST FRIEND.

ANASTASIA. 

I AM OFFICIALLY AN ADULT NOW. 

Maybe that's what I like to think, since dad still deemed me a kid. 

He has always been the person who would stand by me and never give up on me. Not like he had any choice since I was dropped off at his doorstep eighteen years ago, when he was a college student. 

And ever since then, he had been the best father I could ever ask for. But tell me, why are the people at my birthday party my father’s coworkers? 

Talk of politicians, lawyers, senators, and the like. You can count how many people my age are at this party, and I'm telling you they are not up to five. 

It feels like it's my father’s birthday, but I'm trying so hard not to show that I dislike the arrangement. Well, who am I kidding? Even if I did show it, there's nothing that would happen about it. 

He has made it his mission not to have me around anybody my age. According to him, the world is dangerous, and I just need to keep a close-knit circle. 

I can sense him watching me; even when I can't see him, I feel him, especially when I know I am about to do something wrong. 

I sighed as I made my way to the balcony of our home. The only quiet place right now. I had hoped he would be less strict today, now that I was an adult, but I guess I was pushing my luck. I hope he gets rid of the curfew today. 

My agemates at my party were huddled in one corner as they were intimidated by the hotshot personalities at the party, and I was tired of trying to get them to mingle. I needed a break, especially from these heels; they are killing my feet. 

I walk among the crowd, forcing smiles. They don't come naturally to me, not like they do for Dad. Many things he does well are my weaknesses, such as physical activities, charisma, and a complete frontal lobe. I sometimes think he's not my father because I'm too mediocre even to be related to him, but the looks prove otherwise. 

My dark red dress clings to my very meaty skin. I chose this dress so I'd look like an adult. It molds to my curves and shows off my waist. It also has a deep V-neckline that plunges down my breasts, accentuating them and teasing some cleavage. 

Okay, maybe a lot. 

Dad disapproved of the dress, but I begged him because it was the only dress I felt connected with. I even sacrificed my black sneakers for the black high heels, which were currently murdering my poor feet. 

But all this dressing up is all for nothing if he doesn't show up. 

Him. 

My nemesis. 

My dirty secret. 

After what seemed like forever, I threw my weight on the swing Dad made for me in the balcony, where I could get a nice view of the pool. My gaze got lost in the lights shining from the water, and I released a long breath. 

Almost everyone Dad knew was here, almost because, per Dad's words, my step-grandma is never welcome in our home. 

And him. 

The man I've started to look for in a crowd when I have no right to. 

My heart feels slightly bruised, even though I have no right to feel this way. I'm not supposed to wallow in misery on my long-awaited eighteenth birthday, but here I am. Swinging back and forth in the wake of the destruction that's happening in my chest. 

I had such grand plans for today. Not because I liked birthdays, but because this one was special. This one meant I'm officially no longer a child. 

But my most important plan was aborted before it was even implemented. 

I retrieved my phone from my bra and scroll to the photo album saved as “Memories.” I found the picture I was looking for, showing me squealing in Dad’s hands while Uncle Damien was trying to grab me. 

Damien. 

Not Uncle Damien. Not anymore. 

He's Damien. 

I run my fingers over his face and pause at the jolt that zipped through my body. 

It's been some time since I started feeling these weird zaps whenever I see or think of him. He even started appearing in naughty dreams that made me sweaty and wet, and I had to relieve myself in the middle of the night. 

That's why he can't be Uncle Damien anymore. 

He's not even Dad’s best friend or the most powerful man in the world. He might be a senator’s son, but he's so much more than that. 

He owns half of the world and eats the rest of it for dinner. 

“I knew I'd find you here.” 

I froze, my hand tightened on my phone. Did I gain wizard abilities for my birthday and conjured him up? 

That's stupid, of course, because I could feel the warmth of his body on my skin, and the smell of his cologne that made me want to close my eyes and just get lost in his arms. A little bit musky, a little bit vanilla, and spicy. For some reason, he's the only male I knew that used vanilla. 

But this felt wrong. 

I shouldn't know him by his smell, or be able to recognize him among the dozens of people crowding our house. My nipples shouldn't harden because I heard a deep, rough tenor of his voice that's only meant to say firm, serious things. 

A voice that I've started to dream about saying dirty and naughty things to my heated ears as I cum hard on his fingers, or his lips, or his…..

Fuck, he's behind me. He can see my phone, and I was checking him out. Fuck.