My Daddy Best Friend Novels & Stories

"You've been together in everything, right? You are best friends, so why did you let daddy ruin his life and squander all the money he saved for me?" I swallowed hard, looking directly at Daddy Richard. I knew that tears would start falling from my eyes any moment now because I know myself. I get emotional when it comes to daddy. I love him so much. "You are his best friend. So you're supposed to be saving him from addiction, Daddy Richard. You should be helping him return to his old self. You should be helping him rise again. But why did you let him reach this point?" I asked, taking a deep breath.

I said and offered him a smile. “Hmm,” he sighed and closed the door behind him, while I sulked at the fact that he didn't return the smile. In my boredom, I found a pen and a sticky note. “I would rather doodle,” I said to myself before getting at it. FORMER OUTLINE Book title : Daddy's best friend My dad's best friend has been my best friend and nanny since birth, but tonight my heart wants him. "Just call me Shawn", he says with his gaze still locked with mine as we click our champagne glasses.

"Maria was humble, slept on a mattress, Alex..." "I know. We fucked there too." He widened his eyes, staring at me in shock. "Oh, fuck! Where else did you...?" I’m her father’s best friend. And now, I’m also... your worst mistake. "You’re feeling like a badass, huh? Too bad I don’t have anyone of yours left to fuck." I lamented, tapping his shoulder without aggression. "It’s not about competition. Or revenge." I took a deep breath. "I’ll take you home. Tomorrow, we’ll talk calmly."

Now he was gone, taken by a sudden heart attack that left me reeling in an empty house filled with echoes. The service ended in a blur of condolences. Old family friends patted my shoulder, murmuring platitudes. But one man lingered at the edge of the crowd, tall and imposing even in his tailored black suit. Damien Blackwood. My father’s best friend since college, the godfather I'd never officially had, the man who’d always called me “princess” with that deep, rumbling voice that made my stomach flutter even as a teenager.

“Oh, Daddy. Timothy. My Daddy.” He pulls my head back just a bit and kisses me. “My little girl.” And I am. I’m his little girl and I will be the best little girl who has ever lived because there is no doubt in my mind Timothy is the best possible Daddy. EPILOGUE I can’t believe how wonderful things are for Brittney now, and I’m just thrilled that she’d finally out from under that jerk’s thumb. That would be enough but she’s also got such a hunk for a boyfriend! I’m a little jealous about that, actually. I'm only a little jealous, though, because there’s nothing better than seeing my friend safe and happy. She’s talked to me about how she calls her man Daddy and how he protects her like she’

"I never knew my father was a coward, or that I am the easiest thing he had to give up." "Do not think in that manner." He placed a finger on my lips, shushing me off. Then he removed it, when he was sure I would stayed silent. "I don't want to believe it but I don't know what to believe anymore. I..." I continued.. only stopping because he placed his finger back in my lips. "My best friend daddy isn't a failure, and I know this. Anyway— seeing how sad you are, I know what would lift your mood." "What would?" I raised an eyebrow.

He groaned like he’d been punched. I smiled like I’d won the lottery and used the prize money to book a vacation to hell. “Yeah,” I said. “Daddy. Because the man who fucked me into next week? He’s not just hot. He’s not just rich. He’s not just older. He’s my best friend’s dad.” Silence. I could practically hear his balls shriveling. “You’re lying,” Marcus muttered, voice brittle with denial. “You’re just saying this shit to piss me off.”

My father had only cussed at me a few times before, and only when I did something really, really bad—like sneak out of the house in the middle of the night or clog the toilet with all of Mom’s lipsticks after we fought. The disappointment and anger in his voice had me shaking. “We met weeks ago.” “You said that,” Mom snapped. I resisted sending her an angry look. Any aggression on my part would only make things worse. Dad gruffly cleared his throat. “He hasn’t said anything about this to me.” I eagerly leaned forward. “That’s because we didn’t know you two were friends until last weekend at the fundraiser. And I wouldn’t let him tell you. I wanted to let you know myself.”

“We were best friends in college. Your father and I shared a lot back then. I remember he often told me about you…that he had a smart daughter—even smarter than him, he said, and he was sure you would succeed in the future. He’s a proud Dad, I almost went deaf from all his stories about you. Although, I didn’t get the chance to meet you while your father was still alive. And it’s sad knowing that I met you now but your father is no longer here.” I didn’t know what to say. Hearing how important I was to Dad felt like someone was caressing my heart. Because when he was still alive, he had been too busy working and I could barely spend time with him. I shook my head. My head was already hurting

"I'll be out for a bit. I don't want the kids to hear us fighting." Father always avoided the topic of conversation, which made Mother even more sure of her suspicions all along. Until finally one day Dad opened up to Mom about what had kept him busy the past few months. “I met an old friend, we used to be very close friends. He's my best friend especially when I'm really down and hard, I owe him a lot.” “Your old friend is a woman? Is she someone you can't forget?!” Mom poked at Dad's words about someone who sounded very meaningful in his past life.