CHAPTER 4
Lizzy
3:53 a.m. my phone screen saver says.
I place it back on the nightstand and flip over onto my back.
Nothing.
I exhale hard and slide out of bed.
Telling myself it’s the jet lag that’s got me from sleeping, I move to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, only to see the thin, transparent curtain blowing in from the balcony in the other room.
Curiosity killed the cat and this feline can’t resist as I move into the room where Alejandro’s sleeping.
The suite is seventy square meters, and there are four balconies, but still…the rooms aren’t really that separated and it’s easy to move from one into the other. The glass of water will have to wait.
Moving closer to the balcony I see Alejandro sitting outside staring into the night.
I switch rooms to check up on my dad. He’s face down, mouth open, pillow covered in visible drool. He pulled an all-nighter the day before we left and barely slept on the plane. That’s all clearly catching up with him right now…but not me.
Moving back to the room where Alejandro is I approach and stop before the thin curtains can brush against me and possibly alert him.
Like New York, or Vegas, Barcelona never sleeps…and apparently neither does Alejandro. He’s sitting in a chair, leaning back on two legs and holding something in his hand that I can’t quite make out.
“You gonna join me or just lurk?” His voice is deep, but doesn’t project which means my dad won’t wake up. He knows what he’s doing.
I freeze up, but no point in acting like I’m not standing here.
I run my hand along the fine fabric, moving it to the side as I step out onto the balcony and into the night. It’s only then that I see the braided whip which is sitting in his lap.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Little gift for your dad. Jet lag?”
“Something like that.” That’s a gift for my dad? What the…? At this point all the alcohol has worn off. It wasn’t like we even had that much. It’s just the flight plus the excitement of the trip plus the most exciting part of all, him, had me buzzing earlier. And seeing him now has me buzzing all over again.
“That’s for my dad?”
“Yeah, a bullwhip.”
“Do you go to bullfights?”
“Never. I love animals and would never harm them, especially like that. They don’t really make them anymore so I figured buying one is one less on the shelves that someone else could get their hands on. Plus I’m always joking that I’m going to ‘whip’ your dad into shape.”
“Very clever,” I laugh. “He has put on a few pounds.”
“He’s still in shape, but I guess we could all work a little harder on our fitness these days. Of course that’s easier said than done with all the amazing food that is at our fingertips in this era.”
I say nothing, mostly because I’m not sure I agree with him and I don’t want to come off as argumentative. He definitely looks like he doesn’t need to change a single thing. The man is as sturdy as the wrought iron fence that he’s staring over the top of. And it’s not just his muscles that are chiseled, but also his jawline and seemingly every other part of him which looks like it’s been carved from marble.
“You think my dad will actually use it?”
“If not, I will.”
“How would you use it?”
His head slowly turns back over his shoulder, the first time he’s looked at me since I stepped out onto the balcony. I swallow hard waiting for his response and only now realizing he saw me earlier from my reflection in the big, glass building on the other side of the balcony. I guess this isn’t the side with the cathedral, like on the rooftop, and I’m sure his response is going to be way more on the devilish side than something sweet and heavenly…although devilish could be the epitome of heavenly if he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
“Why don’t you grab a hold of that railing and I’ll show you.”
He flicks his wrist and the last few feet of the whip slither at my feet but don’t touch me. The man has control, and apparently he’s used this before.
Here I am just some virgin, whose knees are suddenly shaking and my thighs quivering, and he looks cool as a cucumber.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you…like that.”
“Like…” I want to say ‘like what’, but I can’t get the second word out.
“Like? You’re going to love it,” he says with so much confidence I can practically already visualize him doing to me what I’m pretty sure he’s about to.
I take a step toward the railing, coming flush with him, and it’s only then, as his gaze skates over my body, that I realize I’m wearing nothing more than a super transparent white T-shirt and a thong. And my nipples are very obviously not flush with my shirt…they’re threatening to rip through the fabric at any second.
I hear someone say something loudly all of a sudden, but it’s incoherent.
“What was that?”
“Your dad. Don’t worry about it. He’s been doing that for years.”
“How would you—“
“He did it when your parents had us in the same room in separate twin beds. It was the funniest thing, but he never wakes up. Actually it means he’s in the deepest part of his sleep. We’re safe…and I promise you’ll feel safe, when you give yourself to me.”
A bolt of electricity shoots through me as if he’s reading my mind before I even have the thought.
How much of an oxymoron is feeling safe when a huge man who tips the scales at probably around two hundred and fifty pounds is holding a whip in his hands?
Strangely enough…a lot it seems. I know he’s got control of it, he already proved it.
Now I want to see if I have control of myself, and for him to prove to me all these fantasies that have been playing out in my mind for years are just as real…as dangerous, but safe at the same time.
I slowly wrap my fingers around the railing and look out into the night before peeking back over my shoulder.
Without breaking eye contact he leans forward in his seat, grabs the bottom edge of my T-shirt, and lifts it up and over my hips.
The cool night breeze bites at my ass cheeks and damn do I feel alive. I breathe in deep, feeling my heart punching against my rib cage as I try and steady myself.
“You won’t need this, but if at any time you want this to stop you just say ‘dad’s best friend’.”
My chest kicks even harder. Is he ramping up the fantasy or—-
“Because I know you’re thinking, and I’m thinking it too…thinking about how we shouldn’t be doing this but how we absolutely have to. And if something happens I want the words that are already on the tip of your tongue to come out, so you don’t have to think about anything…just feel.”
“Uh huh,” I whimper, feeling my juices slide down the inside of my left thigh before he’s even touched me.
Oh my god, why is this so wrong if it feels so right?
His hand slowly moves off his knee, the handle of the whip in his palm as I soak in the firm grip from his fingers as he brings it back towards his chest when suddenly…
Snap!
His wrist cracks quickly and the tip of the whip comes snaking off the ground where I was just standing like a cobra and the last couple of feet slide across my butt like a wave, kissing it with just enough force to let me know it was there, but no pain at all. Obviously he didn’t give me the tip…of the whip.
Although when my eyes reopen and whip across his body to his groin, it’s clear the tip of his cock is leaking into his thin, white shorts…the only thing he’s got on.
“I want more,” I say.
“How much more?”
“A lot more.”
“This much more?”
Before I can answer the whip is back on my ass, but this time it’s less of a caress and getting closer to a crack.
The sound of the snap has me coming up
onto my tiptoes and my glutes flexing like I’m setting the world squat record in women’s weightlifting.
“Yes,” I whimper.
“Or more like this?” he offers, the whip coming back across me again.
“Uh huh. That,” I command.
But this time he’s got a surprise…oh does he have a surprise.
His wrist bends up and he twirls it in a circle two times before quickly snapping it forward, sending the tip to my right ass cheek, which it finds perfectly and I feel like a hornet has stuck it’s stinger right into my ass meat and does it ever feel like absolute perfection…like I’ve been sleeping my entire life until now.
I’ve never felt so awake and before I can even understand what’s happening outside me or in, the tip comes down on my other ass cheek.
“Oh yeah. Oh yeah.” I grit my teeth and stare him down like an animal trapped in a corner. “More,” I demand, knowing my eyes are beady, demanding, unrelenting.
He brings the braided whip back across my ass again…and again and again.
“See what you’re doing to me?” he says, yanking his shorts down and pulling out the biggest dick I’ve ever seen in my life.
I’m not a porn hound or anything like that, but I have watched some videos online with some guys who let’s just say…were freakishly hung and it was worth the ten seconds I watched just to see them, but him? This is next level huge…and hot.
He strokes his cock and whips me again and I swear I could rip this railing right off the bolts that are holding it in place.
He brings the whip across me again and again as I watch him pump his hand over his dick until finally his body jerks forward and he explodes into the air, the sticky climax raining down on my back, my shirt having crept all the way up to my neck, causing me to flinch and sending me straight into a complete release of my own.
Suddenly he drops the whips and dives to his knees, grabbing my thong and jerking it to the side.
The sound of the seams ripping is followed by the feeling of his tongue entering my pussy without hesitation as he drinks in my first ever release to ever come from anything other than my own fingers.
I spread my legs wide and push my ass back even farther, grinding my pussy into his face.
I shoot my head down, trying to avoid knocking myself out on the railing, even though I already feel like I’m beyond dizzy from the sexual jabs he’s been giving me.
Looking through my legs I watch as he laps at my folds and I explode again, my body flopping and my back, which is vertical with my head nearing the floor, slams into the railing causing it to let out a loud ‘dong’ sound.
But we don’t stop.
He continues feasting on my cunt, licking up every last drop before falling back, his ass finding his heels before he crumbles into a pile on the ground.
“Oh fuck, you taste so damn incredible.” He’s lying on the balcony bottom looking like he’s died and gone to heaven.
I stand up, still feeling dizzy and feel my shirt slide back across my cheeks, covering me.
“Are you okay?”
My head jerks back and I see my dad jerking the curtain away and looking at both of us.
“It’s…”
“The alcohol,” Alejandro says, but I know he’s completely sober and thankfully pulled up his shorts. “I just came out for some air and when I went to stand up all the blood rushed to my head and I fell into the railing.”
My dad looks up at me now, realizing Alejandro sounds coherent and seems to be okay.
“I just came to check on him too,” I defend the fact that I’m already standing here, breathing hard. “I ran to see what was the matter.”
My dad’s eyes scan the situation and of course arrive on the bullwhip.
“What’s—“
“Your gift, Eric. I was going to wrap it just now and leave it out for you in the morning, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”
“A bull whip?” My dad’s not buying this at all.
Alejandro carefully navigates his way through the logic of why he got it, basically rehashing what he told me, staying calm and providing even more detail and some inside jokes he’s had with my father over the years.
“Great gift,” my dad says about a minute later, apparently more than satisfied with the logic behind his purchase. “Here, let me help you up.”
He offers Alejandro a hand and helps him to his feet. He puts his right hand on the right side of his head as if that’s the side that hurts. I try not to smile…especially when we go inside and my dad pours him a glass of water and Alejandro’s now clutching the left side of his head with his left hand. Maybe he’ll forget and hold his knee next.
He convinces my dad he’s okay, there’s not going to be any hemorrhaging or any problems, and of course they start telling stories again.
I excuse myself and head back to bed, but tonight I don’t sleep on my back or my side like I’m used to…
I sleep on my stomach, because my ass is still hot from Alejandro’s bullwhip.
And in this position I can rub my clit, push my ass back and relive what just happened…until the sun comes up.
It’s gonna be awhile.
CHAPTER 5
Lizzy
A few hours later there’s a knock on the door and a breakfast cart arrives.
Alejandro brings it in and gets everything set up. He’s bounding with energy this morning and despite the fact that I should be tired after the flight and the excitement I am too.
We ease into the day enjoying Valencia oranges, pastries, and of course Spanish olive oil on the balcony. Now this is living.
And I could sure get used to this life…waking up every day with Alejandro by my side, taking our time and just enjoying each other’s company.
Dad is completely into it as well, which makes this perfect picture postcard moment even better.
I have to pinch myself to remind myself that this is real, only to have to slap my face to wake myself up from the dream that this can’t continue.
This is just a vacation. Real life isn’t like this. In ten days, or more accurately nine now, all these memories are going to be packed up with my luggage and stowed away in the back of my mind, just as quickly as I stow away my luggage in the overhead container.
That’s how this works. I have to remember that.
For now I push it into the back of my mind as we head off for some sightseeing. I make sure to bring an extra ten bucks so I can pick up some cheapie sunglasses…because I plan on taking a lot of sneak peeks at the best sight in town…him.
CHAPTER 6
Lizzy
We start off with La Rambla, undoubtedly the most famous street in Barcelona. Then, over the course of the day we explore Park Güell, with it’s breathtaking hillside view of the entire city, Sagrada Família, by Gaudí, where we become three of the three million tourists to visit the site each year, and then duck into the Picasso Museum when the sun just gets too intense.
We slide on over to Mercat de la Boqueria for a bevy of fruit juices instead of eating an actual meal in this hot sun. Paella will come later tonight and more than make up for it anyway. We all want to be light on our feet, and as the afternoon starts to get away from us, I recommend the place I wanted to see more than any other…the Bibliotheca Publica Arus.
On the walk over I get a text from my friend Sarah from back home.
Hooked up with any hot Spanish señors yet? ;)
Jeez, girl. Just got here. I don’t work that fast.
You mean…not fast enough. ;) Or not at all. lol. No more bull from you. I know you surely saw some cute bullfighters or maybe some red-blooded Spanish men sipping espressos, after eating steak and drinking wine. #SoJealous
Not yet. I bite my bottom lip. Do I type this or not? Screw it…I’m on vacation. Just dad’s buddy so far.
Hot older guy? Count me in!!!
An immediate pang of possessiveness shoots through me, plus the regret I knew I was going to feel after telling h
er.
He’s mi Good grief, did I almost just claim him as mine just then. I stop typing and backspace. Yeah, he’s nice.
Nice? Find somebody who’s not and have some hot, steamy action with them. Come on! I’m desperately waiting for some stories over here. I’m supposed to be living vicariously through you and so far my summer internship filing documents has been more exciting. Get with it, girlie!
Summer Vacation With Dad's Best Friend (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 108) Page 3
