Chapter Four — My Best Friend’s Dad

I was not supposed to be here.

My best friend, Harper, had gone to pick up pizza. I was left alone in the house I’d practically grown up in, and only now, everything felt different.

Or maybe i did.

Maybe it was the man who had just walked in from the back porch, a towel around his waist, hair still wet from a swim.

Mr. Reed.

Harper’s dad.

He wasn’t just hot for his age he was devastating. Forty-five, salt and pepper stubble, broad shoulders, thick forearms. There was gravity to him. A weight in the way he moved and looked at people that made my stomach tighten.

We had always been friendly. He’d call me "sweetheart" in that warm voice of his, and I used to giggle and blush when I was younger.

But now?

Now I watched him, stared, swallowed too hard when he reached for a drink or scratched the edge of his abs under his shirt.

And I was pretty sure he’d started watching back.

Like today, when he walked in and caught me sunbathing in the backyard with Harper, my bikini untied. I’d felt his eyes stick. Just for a second. just long enough.

And now?

Now we were alone. I was wearing a loose crop top and short cotton shorts that clung when I sat down.

And he was watching me again.

“You two girls drinking my beer again?” he asked with a smirk.

I smirked back, playful. “Maybe just one”

He walked closer, that towel dangerously low on his hips.

“You’re not a little girl anymore,” he said softly, stopping right in front of me.

Something electric passed between us.

“No,” I said, eyes locking with his. “I’m not.”

His gaze dipped. I watched his jaw clench. A muscle in his neck twitched.

"Your friend’s gone for what, twenty minutes?"

I nodded, heartbeat racing.

His eyes darkened.

“I shouldn’t,” he muttered.

“You already are.”

Then I reached for the towel.

And he didn’t stop me.

It dropped to the floor.

He was hard already. Thick. Heavy. And fuck, big.

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“Not here,” he growled. “On your knees. Mouth open.”

I dropped, adrenaline flooding my veins.

I gripped the backs of his thighs as he pressed the tip against my lips.

“Been dreaming of this,” I said, voice shaking. “Since I was eighteen.”

“You're twenty one now.”

I smirked. “Old enough to know how to swallow.”

He didn’t ease in.

He fed me his cock like he was starving to feel my throat. My lips stretched, jaw wide, as he buried himself deep. I gagged tears pricking but I didn’t stop. I loved the sound he made when I took him all the way.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Look at that mouth.”

He fisted my hair, controlling the rhythm, using me.

He pulled out with a wet pop and yanked me to my feet.

“Bed. Now.”

We didn’t make it to the guest room. He bent me over the kitchen island and shoved my shorts down.

“Been wanting to taste this tight little cunt since the day you turned legal.”

He spread me open. Groaned.

“You're soaked.”

“Because I knew you were home.”

He dropped to his knees behind me.

The first lick made me scream.

His tongue wasn’t gentle. It was brutal. Messy. Worshipful.

He sucked and fucked me with his mouth like he was making up for lost time.

“You taste like sin.”

“Then confess with your tongue,” I moaned, grinding back.

He licked me through an orgasm so intense I saw stars.

Then he stood, grabbed my hips, and thrust in no condom. No hesitation.

“Fuck!”

His cock stretched me wide, filling every inch.

He held my wrists down, chest pressed to my back, voice in my ear.

“Tell me you’ve thought about this.”

“Every night.”

“Tell me you touched yourself to me.”

“Every time I heard your voice downstairs.”

He growled.

Then he slammed into me. Harder. Rougher. Like he wanted to brand me from the inside.

“You like being fucked like this, little slut?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His hips stuttered.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Then die in me.”

He grabbed my throat, turned my head, and kissed me dirty, desperate.

When he came, it was with a shout into my neck and a full, hot flood that made me dizzy.

We stayed tangled, breathless.

Then we heard the front door open.

Harper’s voice: “Got the pizza!”

I looked up at him, wide-eyed.

He smirked, still inside me.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “Better keep your mouth full so you don’t moan next time.”