Daddy’s Best Friends Novels & Stories

I was old enough to know better than to fuck a twenty-three-year-old who used to have sleepovers at my house, giggling over pizza in my kitchen. Christ, what kind of man does this? The kind who can still feel her wrapped around his cock. The kind who's already plotting ways to get her alone again. I dragged a hand down my face. Serena's text filled my head. "Best dad ever"? I wanted to punch myself. Some "best dad" I was, sleeping with the girl who'd been my daughter's closest friend. I should delete her number, reassign her to a different project, different floor, different building if possible, put as much distance between us as I could before this blew up in both our faces.

“Welcome home.” The formality was deliberate. A wall between us. “Dom’s been keeping me company in your absence,” my father said, oblivious to the tension crackling between hid righthand man and his daughter. “Don’t know what I would’ve done without him these past couple years. Best friend a man could ask for.” The words landed like a physical blow. Best friend. As if I needed the reminder of exactly how wrong this was. “That’s wonderful,” I managed. “I’m glad you have each other.”

“Are you and Daddy not friends anymore?” I stopped chewing, the food suddenly feeling heavy in my mouth. Even a child could sense the distance between us. “No, we are,” I answered, trying to find a way to explain it to him. “Did Finn do something wrong?” he asked, his eyes filling with sadness. “Is that why Daddy doesn't want to spend time with Finn anymore?” He started sniffling. I realized that I had been so stubborn in my fight with Eric that I hadn't seen how much it was affecting our son.

I can't say that I love her, not the way my father loves my mother, but I know that she loves me, and I do care for her very much. I mind link my father as I am pulling onto our packlands. He tells me he is in his office with his Beta Jack and his son Cayden, his Gamma Archie, and his son Dylan, who are also my best friends. Cayden, Dylan, and I are all less than a year apart in age. They will become my Beta and Gamma after I take over.

Brittany “Ohh…yes, right there.” I moan, throwing my head back in ecstasy as I ground my pussy on Andre's face or should I say…Mr DeMarco. As in, my best friend's dad. But in that moment, it doesn't matter who he is…it's how he makes me feel, or so I tell myself. His large hands come up to cage my thighs so I don't move around so much but that only flames the desire burning through my veins.

I had felt the worst hurt that day, even if I was only thirteen. He was my father’s best friend and had relocated to California to set up another branch of his IT company during summer, and I hadn’t seen him ever since then, I couldn’t tell anyone, but my heart broke every single day he didn’t show up at our front door. I had made up my mind to relocate to California for college once I graduated high school, just to be close to him again, and the mere sight of him right now melted my heart. It was odd to crush on my father’s best friend, he was much older than I am, but I have loved him ever since I was thirteen. The first day he came to visit he stood out, and no one, absolute no one has ev

MY FRENCH DADDY NATALIE I'm so excited I can barely breathe. I’ve checked over my bags a thousand times, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything, and I’m just waiting for my best friend and her unbelievably sexy dad to pick me up. I’ve been in love with my best friend’s dad for as long as I can remember.

Then disappeared. He noticed the quiet boy that didn't talk to anybody, Richard. Rather than stroll in… Good day to him he went, "Hi." Alexander didn't answer. "I'm Richard." Silence. Richard smiled anyway. My dad says, ‘Hello' is the first step in making friends.” Alexander then finally checked him out. It appears that it's time to move on. "Why?" Not really a good friend of friends. Richard shrugged. "That's okay." I'm okay, I'm okay.

I looked at my best friend—at her easy, bright smile, at the absolute, unwavering trust she had in her father—and felt a sharp pang of guilt so intense it almost took my breath away. She didn't know about the private elevator. She didn't know about the penthouse floor. She didn't know that the man she saw as a dedicated, solitary monk had spent six hours on Sunday night holding her best friend against a marble counter forty stories above the city. "He's a good dad, Sof," I said softly, meaning it. "The best," she agreed, wiping a crumb from her lip. She set her fork down and looked at me with a sudden, mischievous glint in her eyes. "Which brings me to my next point. You're coming to the Fou

She saw Daddy touch Emily’s hair gently. Her heart hurt again. She turned away quickly. Tears filled her eyes. “He never touches my hair like that anymore,” she whispered. She went back into her room and closed the door. She did not hate Emily. But she hated the feeling of being second. --- Later that afternoon, Daddy called Tessa to his study. She walked in slowly. “You wanted to see me, Daddy?” she asked quietly. “Yes,” he said. He removed his glasses and looked at her seriously. “Tessa, you are my daughter. You will always be my daughter.”