My Daddy Best Friend Novels & Stories

“This means the world to me.” He smiled back, and for a moment, all the worries of my confused feelings about my father faded into the background. “Always here for you, Rochelle. That’s what friends are for.” I shot him a look and asked, “Just friends?”

"Finn... Uncle Eric is your father. He’s the one who put you in Mommy’s tummy-tum-tum." Finn went silent, his little brow furrowed as he processed this. I held my breath, waiting for the confusion or the questions. "Really?" he asked. I nodded. "That means I’m gonna be as handsome as Daddy when I grow up!" My heart squeezed. Hearing him use that word—Daddy—felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. "You don't mind him being your daddy?" "No," Finn shrugged. "Mr. Eric is nice. He makes Mommy happy, which makes Finn happy."

I pleaded shamelessly, knowing I shouldn't be giving in to the feeling so easily, but I couldn't hold back. He flipped me so fast, pressing my hard nipples against the cold wall through my light blouse and landed a hard smack on my ass. I winced and moaned. “Call me daddy,” he ordered. “Daddy,” I whispered. “Good girl,” he groaned. I was enjoying every bit of it, forgetting he was my father's best friend and the boundaries that are meant to hold us back. In that moment, I just wanted more. He landed another smack on my ass and this time it was harder.

He was my best friend’s dad, for crying out loud. But as much as I tried to convince myself, a small, stubborn part of me couldn’t let go of the possibility. And that terrified me.

“That I was her dad.” I laughed. But it came out dry and weird. “I had no fucking idea that my one night is my best friend's dad.” His eyes narrowed. “Gosh, you were so ready to let me fuck you, baby girl. You wanted it so badly. And now you are standing here like you have no idea who I am?.” I swallowed hard. “I have no idea, I swear. If I had known, I wouldn't have let it happen in the first place.”

A cold male voice rang, making the man freeze. My eyes turned to him, and so did the man's. It was Damian, the man I swore to avoid. He gently walked down the stairs with both hands in his pocket, maintaining an unusual level control and iciness. And did he just call me his girl? I know the ‘my girl’ should mean something close to being his daughter, but to me it meant something else. “I am sorry Mr Steels. I didn’t know…” Oh… There goes the bossy man who was bullying me, now he was apologizing to my best friend’s father.

Tonight, I was just someone trying to drown the sound of my lesbian girlfriend walking away. With one last shred of hope, I dialed again, thumb hovering over the screen like it might burn me. It rang twice. Then clicked. “Hey,” a deep, familiar voice answered. “I don’t know why you keep calling or who the hell you are, but she’s not available right now. Bye.” The line went dead. I froze, phone still pressed to my ear, heart slamming against my ribs. That voice. I’d know it anywhere. My father. Duncan Blackwood.

Her small body trembling against his. "I promise, little one," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle, "I'll never let anyone hurt you. My name is Lucas Antonio, your daddy's best friend." "My Daddy's best friend? How come I never knew or saw you before?" Little Ava inquired. "Your father helped me," Lucas said, his voice full of feeling. "When I lost my parents, he was there. When everyone else left, he took me in. He was like a brother to me. I'm successful because of Mr. David Smith."

I look up to find him, the one person I hate so much in this world, my father's best friend, Dale Lazarus, sitting behind the steering wheel, oblivious to the fact that I am awake and want him dead. He's twice my age, I'm eighteen, and he's thirty-six, and all the days of my life, I've tried to get rid of him, but nothing worked. He was my father's best friend, so I call him Daddy too. My father demanded it, stating it isn't too bad to have two fathers and that Dale Lazarus is a good person. And although the word daddy leaves my lips now and then, I hated him. Whenever I feel his stabbing gaze on me, I feel strange, uncomfortable, and unsafe.

Marcus Hale was coming tonight. Daddy’s best friend. The man I’ve wanted since I was eighteen and too young to even say it out loud. Now I’m twenty-one, home from college for the summer, and he’s my father’s new business partner. Officially. Dangerously. Permanently in our lives. I pumped my fingers faster, imagining his big, rough hands instead of mine. Those hands that used to ruffle my hair when I was a kid. The same hands I now fantasize wrapping around my throat while he calls me a dirty little girl for wanting her Daddy’s best friend.