Dads Best Friend Romance Books Novels & Stories

Dark eyes, straight nose, five o’clock beard dusting his chin, a temptation any woman would fight for. Older, yes, but devastatingly so. It makes me wonder how many hearts he’s broken when he was younger. I’ve had a secret crush on him from the first time I met him. It’s hard not to. Handsome and fit, too fit for his age of fifty. Tall, broad-shouldered, sharp jawline, lean but firm muscles, and a charming smile when he chooses to give it. I can’t stop swooning for the man, not that I ever dared act on it, since he’s my best friend’s father, and until earlier today, I had a boyfriend.

Dad’s Best Friend Chapter 3: Stolen Afternoons The days that followed our first real kiss felt like walking on a tightrope — thrilling, terrifying, and impossibly delicate. Dad returned from his business trip none the wiser, happy to have his best friend around. He and Marcus spent mornings playing golf or working on some old car project in the garage, laughing like they were still twenty years old. Meanwhile, I tried to act normal — helping Mom with errands, reading by the pool, and pretending my heart didn’t skip every time Marcus walked into a room.

he replied. "Dad, what would you have done if one of your friends had dated me?" I asked as I looked over at him. I was nervous about his answer. "Well, that is quite a question. I am close to Tristan. I can only think of him if he had to date you...." he shook his head, blowing out a breath. "I guess I would kill him with my bare hands....I don't know. But I surely wouldn't allow my friends to take advantage of my daughter and get away with it. I don't know...but as long as it's not happening I'm happy," he looked at me with a smile. "There isn't anything there now, is there?" he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“See how much he loves her. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her since the moment he got here. He pours her wine, he holds her hand, he has been talking to me but he hasn’t once taken his attention off her. I wanted you to see that although this might not be conventional, he cares for her. If you could just put aside your anger-” “He is my best friend!” the only thing that stuck out to me was the use of present tense and not past. “I trusted him more than anyone in the world. I left my daughter thinking she would be safe with him.” “Michael,” Jake began but dad shot him a harsh look. “Don’t even fucking speak to me right now. What were you fucking thinking? Is this because you don’t have kids? I

My paternal instincts flare—I want to comfort my little girl and strangle the bastard who hurt her best friend and made her cry. “I didn’t want anyone to know, G—not because you weren’t a good friend; you were the best. I just wanted my time with you to be free of that. You were my escape, and I’m glad I had that. Now stop crying—you know how your father gets. He’ll want to shoot whoever made you cry.” Gianna laughs. “Dad won’t shoot you. He loves you.” I clench my jaw. *You don’t know how right you are, baby girl. Will you forgive me when you learn I fell in love with your best friend?*

“You think I can keep my hands off you? I’ll make damn sure we find the time.” She grins at me, her cheeks flushed. “I knew there was a reason I loved you so much.” “Right back at you, baby girl.” And my lovely readers, we come to an end of Daddies Do It Better. I really appreciate reading till the end. Please check out Naughty Tales: A Dark Collection Of Steamy Stories.

’ I muttered, sniffing while wiping my tears with my thumb. His handsome, flawless face flashed into my mind, as he stood in the kitchen, oblivious to the turmoil he'd unleashed inside me. My anger melted away instantly, leaving me vulnerable to the inescapable truth. ‘I was hopelessly ensnared in a love that defied all conventions, a love for the man I shouldn't desire - my father's best friend. But if he decides to choose his secretary over me— his goddaughter then so be it. “Ma'am, we are here.” Came the driver's voice, tugging me out of the haze of my thoughts.

left me feeling sick to my stomach, and I pressed my lips together to keep the bile from rising too high into my throat. “I don’t have a father,” I murmured, looking away from him. “Yes, you did,” he said, dipping his head lower to capture my eyes. “He was a border warrior. He died keeping the pack’s young alive when the western rogues cut through in winter. He never settled; he wrote of no child, but he wrote of a girl with eyes like night when it’s about to snow and a mouth that told the truth to men who weren’t ready for it. Sera.”

And more, he gave, every stroke digging deeper into me, every strike against my bare butt cheeks, was a near-death experience as he pounded me nonstop, not giving me any room to breathe. I did not want anything else, just being his slut was a big deal, I was willing to die taking big daddy's dick than salvaging my 6 years old friendship with Olivia, unremorsefully. _____________ Juliana Roberts, 23 years old, Fashion Blogger, falls in love with her best friend's uncle and Godfather, Charles Davenport who owns a fashion brand she's obsessed with. This is a steamy story of how one friendly night on the yacht led to several nights of passionate romance and sexcapades.

I asked softly. It was as though he battled to hold back his next words but he just spat it out. "The way you make me feel." He said. My blood froze as his hands touched mine but slowly it slipped down. I slowly jerked up, spreading my legs for him to inch closer and he did. "It's so..." His heated breathes slapped me in the face. "So so wrong" He added. "You're my best friend's daughter" And that was as much admittance that I could get. Admittance that I wasn't losing my mind.