Chapter 5

Sophia

It has been two days. Two full days since my steamy encounter with Damian. I hadn't heard from him since then, apart from the single text he sent reminding me to lock the doors and windows. After that, it was silent. And truth be told, I don't know whether what I was feeling was guilt or disappointment for not hearing from him.

All my brain could process within those two days was how his touch ignited something sensational in my body. How his tongue did that crazy pleasure thing on my throbbing core. I know it's crazy to have those dirty thoughts about someone I wasn't supposed to. Someone I should see as a father figure. Just like my own father. But why was it so hard to control those thoughts?

Why do I crave to have his mouth on my lips and on other sensitive parts of my body? My chest heaved as I felt the moisture building up between my legs. It had been like that for the past two days. I didn't even have to touch myself to get an orgasm. The thought and image of him were enough to bring me to the edge.

My phone buzzed from under my pillow, where I'd slipped it last night after my chat with Bree. It was what relieved the boredom of being home alone.

And yes, Mrs. June came back last night. Having her tell me about how much she enjoyed her trip somehow reminded me of the old days—when the house used to be lively with Mom around, when Dad wasn't so engaged in his work affairs.

But now... things aren't like before. Life went on, but somehow, it felt like it was stuck somewhere too. My last text to Bree was still left unread. I wouldn't be surprised if she had gone to her ex-boyfriend's place—the one she claimed she wanted nothing to do with, yet we both know she's still head over heels for him.

Well... dating isn't something I'm looking forward to doing anytime soon. As unlucky as I am in love, I'd rather be committed to a situationship than to a relationship.

And I'd rather have my head filled with wild fantasies than fake promises. Wild fantasies like having Damian's huge cock inside me.

Fuck.

I pulled off the blanket and got out of bed. A yawn escaped me as I walked to the bathroom. Dad mentioned he'd be back home in two days. He hadn't called to say when his next flight would be, but I was sure it would be today.

Sometimes I wonder whether he has a working robot in his head—because how can someone work every day without giving himself a break?

I brushed my teeth and took a shower all together. I made a mental note to go for skincare shopping. I wore a simple pair of denim jeans and a black top before heading downstairs.

As expected, Mrs. June had occupied the kitchen, just as she always does. "Good morning, Mrs. June," I said, walking into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Daddy's girl." My face crumpled into a frown. If I could remember correctly, Mrs. June isn't someone who fancied jokes. When on earth did she change? Was it during her trip or while I was away in school.

"It's Sophia," I corrected her. "I'm sure you know strictness suits you better," I added, my eyes scanning the ingredients scattered on the countertop and the already-kneaded dough. "What are you cooking, by the way?"

"And I'm sure you know you're supposed to talk to me with respect," she responded. My eyes flickered between her stoic face and the tabletop before I finally loosened up and snaked my hand around her arm.

"Oh come on, Mrs. June. I'm no longer that Sophia. I'll soon bag my master's degree," I bragged, grinning.

Mrs. June threw me a glare before pulling her arm away. Then a smile spread across her face.

"Yeah, I'm proud of you. Your father would be too."

"And Mom would be, if she were alive," I added. She nodded.

"Right. Anyways, leave my kitchen. Breakfast will be ready soon." She nudged me toward the door. If there's one thing that gets Mrs. June angry, it's having someone in the kitchen while she's working. She prefers to have the kitchen to herself.

I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, I'm off. By the way, when are we getting a new housekeeper?"

Another glare in my direction and I couldn't help but chuckle. It always feels nice to get on her nerves. Mrs. June had decided not to get any more housekeepers—because, according to her, they don't work the way she wants them to.

With one last grin at her, I made my way out toward the dining room. As I sat down, my phone buzzed. I didn't know why, but I rushed to fish it out—only to find it was a reply from Bree. Part of me wished it was Damian checking up on me.

But the thank-you text I sent two days ago was still left unread. Did he not have time to check? Or did he just not want to?

God! Why did it bother me so much? I was supposed to forget about what happened in the kitchen. I replied to Bree's apology message for sleeping off without replying. I replied with an angry emoji and swiped through I*******m.

I*******m is a place I visit once in a while. I don't have many followers—unlike Bree, who's into content creation and has over ten thousand followers. The only time I go on I*******m is when she forces me to like and comment on her posts or if I'm looking for something different.

A smile formed on my lips when I came across Bree's post from twelve hours ago—and the location was her ex-boyfriend's place. Well, I knew it.

Just as I scrolled down, my finger paused mid-air, and my heart escalated. My eyes fixated on the picture.

It was a picture of Damian Wolfe. Taken in his office. He was dressed in a three-piece suit and looked crazily handsome for a thirty-eight-year-old man. I didn't know when I clicked on his profile and was taken to his page.

He had twenty thousand followers and followed just a few. I found myself scrolling through the pictures he posted. He didn't have many posts—just ten—and only four were of his face. The rest were just pictures of the sky and nature scenes. I clicked on his recent post, and so help me God, I felt the tingling in between my legs as I stared at the picture. He was in a casual outfit—a top that tightened around his arm, showing his muscle. The image of me gripping his arm flashed before me.

How can someone be this handsome? How does he keep in shape and look so young? I zoomed into the picture, over the muscular arm. However, the sound of a plate on the dining table startled me. I immediately turned the phone face down.

"Why do you look startled?" Mrs. June asked, eyeing me suspiciously. Thank God she didn't see what I was doing. If not, how would I explain why I was zooming in on the picture of my father's best friend?

"Startled? No, I'm not," I said, pressing my lips into a thin line and pulling the plate of freshly baked bread toward me. "Who makes homemade bread instead of ordering out, if not Mrs. June? I missed your food," I said, taking a bite. I had to close my eyes to savor the taste.

"Come on, stop exaggerating," Mrs. June said, a small smile playing on her lips. I gave her a thumbs up. When it comes to making good food, the woman is gifted.

**

I spent the rest of my afternoon watching N*****x and shopping online. I had planned to get the stuff I needed physically, but after an ad popped up, I saw that they have what I needed so I decided to just buy them online. When evening came, I finally left my room—just in time, as the front door opened and Dad walked in, looking tired and sleepy.

"Hey, Dad," I uttered, making my way toward him. We shared a hug.

"Hey, Sophia. How are you doing?"

"As you can see, I'm okay. Mrs. June is feeding me," I said, gesturing to Mrs. June, who was arranging the table for dinner.

"Welcome back, sir," she greeted in her usual polite tone toward my dad.

"Thank you. And welcome too, Mrs. June."

"You look exhausted, Dad. Tell me you're not going to the office tomorrow."

He walked further into the living room. "If I don't take care of my company, who will, Sophia?"

I thought as much. I rolled my eyes. "Of course I knew you'd say that—even after having tons of employees at your company." We took our seats at the dining table.

"Yes, darling. Daddy still has to do some things himself."

My thoughts spiraled at the mention of the word Daddy.

It's Daddy. Call me Daddy. How deep his voice was when he said that.

And as if Dad knew I was thinking about his best friend, he brought up his name.

"I'll have to ask Damian for help this time around."

I tried not to show how the mention of his name was affecting my sense of thinking. I kept my face calm.

"Help for?"

"Thanks, Mrs. June," he said to her as she placed a plate of pasta in front of him, before shifting his eyes to me. His eyes looked tired—very much so.

"The new branch in Mexico is nearing its launch, and the people I assigned there aren't doing much. So I need to be there to make sure everything goes smoothly before we open it up. I need someone to handle things here. So far, Damian is the only person I trust to do a good job."

I was trying to understand what he was saying. I never bothered myself with anything related to Dad's company. I didn't even have interest in it—but now that he mentioned Damian, I was curious.

I leaned forward, my dinner still untouched in front of me. "So what you're trying to say is, you'll be traveling again, and Da—I mean, Mr. Damian will handle your company here?"

He nodded. "Yes. And I want him to check up on you from time to time, because I can't leave you here all alone."

I didn't know whether it was excitement or nervousness, but the thought of having Damian come around the house while my dad was away had my heart racing in some kind of way.