All Chapters of In Lust With Her Father's Friend: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

NATASHA. Dear Miss Natasha Philips, may I please request your presence at One Heart Inn tonight?I promise you a night of an unforgettable sexual experience. P.S. Do not make me wait. My cock and I are ready for you. I smiled as I read the message Dougal sent. Dropping my phone on the dresser, I rushed to my closet, ready to dress up. It only took me about an hour to prepare. I nodded in satisfaction as I looked myself over in the mirror. Dressed in a mini gown that barely stopped at my thighs and boots that covered up to my knees, I looked presentable. I grabbed my handbag from the dresser and walked out of the room. “Where are you going?” My father said from behind when I clicked the door open. I turned around to see the man seated at the dining table, his presence obstructed by the pillars. “Clubbing,” I simply said. He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Don’t worry, I won’t be late to work,” I assured him. He shrugged at me again before resuming his task on the laptop. I too

53. NATASHA. I stepped into the coffee shop, and the warm smell of cappuccino and freshly ground beans hit me at once. I paused to sniff the air, breathing in the smell. The space felt calm and welcoming, with soft chatter in the background and low music playing from a corner speaker. A few people were scattered around. Some were typing on laptops, others were quietly enjoying their drinks.I noted the counter just a few steps ahead, neatly arranged with pastries and light snacks behind a clear display. The barista looked up with a quick, friendly greeting, giving the place an easy, relaxed feel. Wooden tables lined the walls. Everything seemed clean and simple, from the polished floor to the organized shelves of cups and coffee beans.My eyes roamed around the place, searching for my targets. I spotted them at the far end of the shop, near the window that I was sure gave a good view of the street outside. They were already seated and drinking a cup of coffee each. Praying that all

55NEXT CHAPTER. NATASHA. I tiptoed into the house, hoping against all odds that my father wouldn’t still be awake. I had no way to explain to him why I was dressed so badly. The universe heard my prayer as the whole house was silent. I rushed to my room and locked the door behind me. I flung away my fake wig and sat in front of the mirror. I grabbed some wipes and began to clean away the makeup. As I wiped, my mind was settled on what to do exactly with the new piece of information in my hand. Sending it to Dougal was the best as he could use the argument in the court. But there was no evidence to back it up. It was just the words of a drunken man. But I knew he was telling the truth. I threw the third wipe away, noting how coated it was with different shades of colors. Or perhaps, I could just publish it on my page as I did with the rest of the information. At least, the last one went viral enough. I shook my head against the idea immediately. I was already a target for the w

NEXT CHAPTER. LEO. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It’s been a while since someone, especially a woman has been able to make me happy and feel whole. My hands patted the side, wanting to feel the woman who made me feel whole in a long while. My search came up empty. I frowned from my sleep and opened my eyes, only to find the space empty. The sleep I was enjoying cleared from my eyes. I sat up and looked around the hotel room, yet there was no sign of the beautiful brunette. Forcing myself to get up, I went to the bathroom, hoping to find her there. Yet, there was still nothing. It was like she disappeared into thin air. Either that or my imagination played a cruel joke on me and none of last night was real. except she wasn't a dream.I smiled to myself as memories of her riding me clouded my mind for a second. I let out a frustrated sigh and sank into the bed.I wished I woke up earlier to stop her from leaving...And then what? the small voice in my mind asked.I close

NATASHAThe meeting with Pamela had gone far from what I expected. The woman spent the entire morning lamenting over the predicament of her childhood friend, Nerissa. She inundated me with stories about how she had tried to guide Nerissa, to help her become better, but how every attempt seemed to fail. Her voice carried an unrelenting sense of urgency, as if sharing this tale would somehow absolve her of the guilt she bore for her friend’s choices.“Why didn’t you just leave her, like your other friends did?” I asked after one particularly long, drawn-out tangent.“Because she is my childhood friend,” Pamela said simply, her eyes earnest. Then she recounted the years she had quietly provided for Nerissa—handing down clothes, textbooks, even small luxuries that made growing up a little easier. The more she spoke, the more I felt a pang of sympathy for both women, though I was growing tired of the relentless narrative.Two hours later, drained from listening to endless complaints and so