MY BEST FRIEND'S DADDY WANTS ME

CHAPTER 1

If I had to sit through one more minute of my best friends detailing their mind-blowing relationships, I was going to throw myself out the nearest window.

I hadn't even wanted to come to this sleepover. Gina had invited me and Princess, and I’d decided at the very last minute to go just to have some harmless girly fun and get my mind off my sad, dry life.

Big mistake. The second I stepped into Gina’s house, my friends immediately dived into their absolute favorite topic of discussion: their boyfriends.

“Gideon is sooo good! He literally makes me come every time, every fucking time,” Gina said, fanning herself like she was still overheating from it.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Here we go again.

“Me too!!!!” Princess giggled, eyes wide with excitement. “Brian does this thing with his tongue, and, oh my God, my eyes roll! I literally have to beg him to stop.”

They yapped nonstop for hours. Who was better in bed. Who had a bigger dick. Who was freakier. Who ate pussy better. It was getting damn annoying because my lovely boyfriend was complete shit.

“Must be nice,” I said, chiming into the bedroom chatter for the first time tonight.

“Oh, come on,” Gina said, throwing a pillow at me. “Michael can’t be that bad.”

Well, she was in for the shock of her life.

“We’ve been together for five years, and he’s made me come, six, maybe if you count the time I was already masturbating and close to coming before he swooped in to help me finish, seven times,” I said, raw annoyance in my voice. It wasn’t that I cared all about the sex—you know what, scratch that, I cared all about the good sex I wasn't having.

“Are you serious?” Princess asked in disbelief. "But you said he always ate you out.”

“He does, but that doesn’t mean he’s good at it.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I have to fake an orgasm just to get him to stop because it’s so bad.”

Gina and Princess looked at me with pure pity. This is why I hated oversharing. I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

“Have you told him about it? Have you guys had a talk about his deficiency?" Princess asked. I couldn't tell if she was mocking or pitying me at this point.

My phone rang, giving me a much-needed excuse to not answer her embarrassing question.

"It's Michael, he probably wants to know if I'm doing okay, I should pick this," I said, scrambling out of the room without giving them a chance to respond.

I walked into the kitchen, my phone lodged between my ear and my shoulder.

"Babygirl, how's girls' night going? I miss you," Michael said.

Even though I was grateful for the timeliness of his call, I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. I was embarrassed and sexually frustrated, and he was the root cause of it all.

"It's going great, baby! I miss you too! We're about to watch a movie, I'll call you later," I said, trying to end the call as fast as humanly possible.

I could hear him grumbling on the other end of the line, but I couldn't concentrate anymore because Mr. Hayden—Gina's father—had just walked into the kitchen, completely shirtless.

I tried to tear my eyes away from him, but he’d already caught me staring. His smirk was an obvious giveaway. Mr. Hayden had been giving me funny looks ever since I arrived earlier, but I’d brushed it off. Now, standing there in the dim kitchen light, the way he was looking at me was making me ridiculously horny.

"Looking for something, Kelly?" he asked.

The sound of his voice traveled straight to my core, and I instinctively clenched my thighs.

Kelly, you have a boyfriend. He might not be satisfying you, but that doesn't give you any right to sexualize your best friend's father, for God's sake! Get your head out of the gutter.

"Uhmmm. I needed... erm... water. Yes, water," I stuttered.

Mr. Hayden looked at me like he was undressing me with his eyes—and honestly, I was doing the exact same thing to him. He looked way too good for his age. His grey sweatpants sat low on his waist, outlining the muscle of his body in the shadows.

"Go on then, Kelly." He leaned casually against the kitchen island and folded his arms, looking like he was watching a private show.

I stood on my toes to reach for a glass on the top shelf, my little shorts riding way up my butt in the process. My fingers just barely grazed the glass. I sighed, cursed my height, and reached for it again.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my lower back, and I jumped.

“I’ll get it for you,” he said softly.

Goosebumps erupted everywhere his skin touched mine. The distinct outline of his hardness brushed right up against my backside as he reached over me for the cup. I closed my eyes and held my breath in guilty anticipation. He pushed himself even harder against me before finally grabbing it, his fingers brushing against mine as he set it on the counter.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, my heart beating frantically.

“Not a problem,” he said.

My mind instantly spun out of control. I imagined his lips on my ear, groaning about how tight I was, his heavy cock slamming into me over and over again while I rode him until I came non-stop.

He walked back to his side of the island, and I took a deep breath, trying desperately to regain control of myself. I filled the glass and drank from it slowly, my eyes trained seductively on him as a trail of water ran down my lips and onto my little tank top.

He sighed heavily. “Kelly, darling, we have to stop playing this game.”

I shut off the sink and turned to him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his eyes slowly raking over my entire body before he licked his lips.

I shook my head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was fantasizing about him. “No, I don’t, actually.”

He swore under his breath, his eyes lingering heavily on my nipples through the thin fabric. Then, he crossed the space between us.

“Let's play then.”

He took the glass out of my hand, set it on the counter, and roughly lifted me off the ground, placing me on top of the island. He spread my legs apart, pushing his full hardness directly against my aching pussy.

I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the solid muscle of his chiseled body, and clenched.

“Mr. Hayden, we can't,” I whispered. “I have a boyfriend. Your daughter is in the next room.”

We both knew I didn't give a shit about my boyfriend right now. Saying it just felt like the proper thing to do—and knowing my best friend was just a room away only made me wetter.

I was about to fuck my best friend's father while she was right down the hall.