My Dad's Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo)

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My Dad's Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo) Page 12

by Katee Robert


  “No.” I whimper. “I’m so wet. You’re so deep.”

  “Ride my cock, baby girl. Make yourself feel good.” He keeps me spread, keeps me exposed, as I obey. Suddenly, Jonas tenses. “Did you hear something?”

  No. Because the office is deserted and the door is locked. There’s absolutely no chance of us being interrupted. That doesn’t stop the fantasy from driving me into a frenzy. “I can’t stop,” I whisper. “I don’t care if we get caught. I can’t stop fucking you.”

  Jonas turns my face to his and takes my mouth as he starts stroking my clit. I try to hold out. I do. I want this to last forever. But he knows my body too well. He draws my pleasure higher and higher, teasing me over the edge. I sob as I come, and he has to clamp his hand over my mouth again to keep me quiet. He bands his other arm around my waist and fucks up into me, chasing his own pleasure until he comes with a curse that sounds like my name.

  We collapse back into the chair and only then does he drop his hand from my mouth. It doesn’t go far. He cups my pussy as he idly plays with one breast. I shiver. “I missed you.”

  Jonas kisses my temple. “I missed you, too.” He helps me off his cock and watches as I stand, his expression hungry. “Blake—”

  “I know you want go on a date.” I tug the straps of my dress up and eye his cock. “But it’s late and my apartment is only a few blocks from here. Why don’t we order in tonight?” I grab his hand and press it between my thighs. “I have five days of missing you to make up for.” I lean down and nip his bottom lip. “And I’d really like to suck your cock.”

  He pushes two fingers into me. “Hard to argue with that.”

  “I know.” I gasp a little as he wedges a third finger into me. “Jonas, we should go if we don’t want to end up fucking in here a second time.”

  “In a minute.” He keeps fingering me. “We both know you’re too much a little slut to be satisfied with a single orgasm.” He shoves up my dress and guides me to perch on the edge of my desk. “One more should tide you over until we get back to your place.”

  I brace my foot on the chair arm, spreading my legs wide. “I’m not a little slut.”

  “Liar.” He grips my hip. “Look how eagerly your pussy takes three fingers. We both know that’s not enough, either. You need my cock.”

  I watch his fingers press into me and retreat, soaked with our shared desire. It’s vulgar and sexier than it has right to be. “You’re right.” I whimper. “I need your cock, Daddy.”

  “Too bad. You can’t have it again yet.” He leans down and sucks on my clit as he keeps fucking me with his fingers. He’s right. I do need another orgasm. I don’t understand how this man knows my body so well and won’t hesitate to give me what I need, but I’m not questioning it. I’m too busy coming all over him.

  We manage to make it back to my apartment sometime later, but we barely get through the door before I’m on my knees and sucking his cock down. Just like I promised.

  It’s not until the next morning that we realize we completely forgot to order in. Jonas stretches out next to me, looking perfectly at home in my bed. “Brunch.”

  I blink. “Brunch?”

  “Yeah. It’s the weekend.” He trails his fingers down my spine. “We’ll go out for brunch. Eat something. Get you a few mimosas if you’re in the mood.”

  I smile. “And then come back here and fuck each other senseless.”

  “No.” He lightly smacks my ass. “Then we’ll take a walk and talk for a bit.” Despite his words, he hooks my thigh to bring my leg up so he can play with my pussy. “I know a lot about you, but I’d like to know you better.”

  “I’d like to get to know you better, too.” I lift my hips, urging him to press his fingers deeper. “Brunch sounds nice. Talking sounds better.”

  “Mmhmm.” He moves to kneel behind me and urges my hips high. “Just one more thing to take care of before we go.”

  “Oh?” I manage to sound curious instead of just horny. “What’s that?”

  “You and your needy pussy.” He notches his cock at my entrance and grabs my hips, working me back onto his length. “You’re my baby girl, Blake. That means I take care of you in every way.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” I press my hands to my headboard so I can thrust back against him. It’s the truth, though. He does take care of me. From fucking me just the way I need to his calm confidence in my ability to handle anything my business throws my way. I don’t know what my future will bring, but I’m so fucking glad that Jonas is part of it.

  I moan as he thrusts into me. “We should have known a weekend was never going to be enough.”

  “That’s right.” He leans down to snake his hand down my stomach to my clit. “Not a couple days, or a couple weeks, or fuck, even a couple years.” He curses. “I mean to keep you, Blake.”

  I turn my face enough for him to claim a kiss. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go a second time.”

  “Damn straight you’re not.” Jonas laughs, rough and low. “You’re mine, baby girl. And I’m yours. For good.”

  Thank you so much for reading My Dad’s Best Friend! I hope it brought you a delicious escape from the real world! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review.

  Need more of Blake and Jonas in your life? If you sign up for my newsletter, you get access to a sexy bonus short from Jonas’s point of view!

  If you’re looking for more taboo Daddy content, be sure to check out Your Dad Will Do! When Lily catches her fiancé cheating, she knows there’s only one way to get revenge…seduce her fiancé’s father. After this weekend, her ex won’t be the only one calling his father Daddy!

  Check out this little sneak peek of Your Dad Will Do!

  How does one go about seducing their almost-father-in-law? I really, truly do not recommend doing an internet search. The results are heavy on porn and light on answers. In the end, I’m left to my own devices.

  That’s how I end up on his front porch in a short black dress and thigh highs in the middle of January, well after the polite hours of visiting. I’m shaking as I knock on the door, and it’s not purely because the icy wind making my clothing feel like a laughable barrier.

  Despite the late hour, he’s awake. My breath catches in my throat as the door opens to reveal him. Shane. The man who, up until a few days ago, was supposed to be my father-in-law. Funny how quickly things change when you least expect it. Or not so funny at all. I sure as hell don’t feel like laughing.

  He fills the doorway, a large man with broad shoulders, big hands, and a smattering of salt and pepper in his hair. He’s in his late forties, some twenty-ish years older than me. Shane frowns as recognition slips over his handsome face. “Lily? What are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping we could talk.” I have to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Maybe I should have gone with the trenchcoat route. At least then I’d have a coat.

  To his credit, Shane doesn’t make me wait. He moves out of the way and holds the door open so I can walk past him. The first blast of warmth makes me shiver again. Maybe if I hadn’t stood out there for so long, gathering my courage, I wouldn’t be so cold now.

  “What did he do?”

  I blink and stop trying to rub feeling back into my fingertips. “Excuse me?”

  “My asshole son. What’s he done now?” He catches my hand and lifts it between us. My ring finger is markedly empty. Shane skates his thumb across the bare skin, still frowning. Now my shivers have very little to do with temperature and everything to do with desire.

  Maybe this is why Max and I were never going to work. His freaking father can do more with a single swipe of his thumb than Max was ever interested in doing with his entire body. Then again, Max and I only ever had polite, friendly sex—which was not what I found him doing with his secretary when I showed up unexpectedly at his office. I don’t want to get into it right now. I’ve already had four days of tears and raging with my girlfriends, but if I start talking about how I found
Max fucking his secretary like the biggest goddamn cliché in existence, I’m going to start crying again.

  That’s not why I’m here.

  I’m here for revenge—and maybe a little pleasure, too, though the pleasure rates a distant second in priorities.

  “Shane.” I say his name slowly. In all the time I dated Max, I called him Mr. Alby. A necessary distance between us, a reminder of what he was to me—only ever my boyfriend’s father. I rip down that distance now and stare up at him, letting him see the pent up emotions I’ve spent two long years ignoring and denying.

  His dark eyes go wide and then hot before he shutters his response, locking himself up tight. But, almost as if he can’t resist, he swipes the pad of his thumb over my bare ring finger again. “Tell me what happened.”

  “We’re over.” My voice catches, and I hate that it catches. “No going back, no crossing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars. Really, really over.”

  He nods slowly and then gives my hand a squeeze. “Sounds like you could use a drink.”

  “I could use about ten, but one’s a good place to start.” At least he isn’t kicking me out. That’s a good sign, right? I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens the liquor cabinet and picks through the bottles. “Vodka, right?”

  “Yes.” Of course he’s remembers my drink. I bet, if pressed, he also remembers my birthday and a whole host of other details that slip past most people. But then, Shane isn’t most people.

  Heat melts into my bones as he methodically puts together a drink for each of us. I don’t know what to do with my hands once I don’t need them for warmth, and the coziness of the temperature is a vivid reminder of just how little I’m wearing. My dress is barely long enough to cover the tops of my thigh-highs and while I’m wearing a garter belt, I have nothing else on beneath the thin fabric of the dress. I’m dressed slutty and downright scandalous and Shane has barely looked at me since I walked through the door.

  That won’t do. That won’t do at all.

  He finishes with the drinks and I gather what’s left of my courage and close the distance between us, sliding between him and the counter to reach for the glass. “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder.

  Just like that, he’s pressed against my back, his hips against my ass. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t move back. “What are you doing, Lily?”

  His lack of retreat gives me a little more strength. Just enough to sip the drink and then turn slowly to face him. I have to lean back over the counter to meet his gaze, and a thrill goes through me as he forces me to make the adjustments. He might as well be made from stone. I tip my chin up. “I have a question.”

  “Ask it.”

  “Last summer, you and Max were supposed to be working, so I was here at the pool.” I can barely catch my breath. “No one was around so I didn’t bother with a suit.”

  “Mmm.” The barely banked heat in his gaze is back, flaring hotter by the second. He still hasn’t moved, either to press against me or to retreat. “That’s not a question.”

  I lick my lips. “It felt wicked to be out there naked, knowing I was in your house even if you weren’t here. I…” This part’s harder, but his nearness gives me a boost of bravado. “I started touching myself. I felt like such a little slut, but that made it hotter.”

  He’s breathing harder now, and he reaches around me to grasp the counter on either side of my hips. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because it’s not anything you don’t already know,” I whisper. “You were upstairs. I saw you watch me through the master window.” I reach behind me to the counter just inside his hands. The move arches my back and puts my breasts almost within touching distance of his chest. “I didn’t know you were there when I started, but once I knew you were watching me, I took my time and dragged it out. I wanted you to watch. I wanted you to do more than watch.” The last I’ve never admitted to myself, let alone out loud, but it’s the truth. “Do you remember that?”

  He exhales harshly. “You don’t know what you saw.”

  “Okay.” I’m shaking like a leaf. “My mistake.”

  Shane still doesn’t move away. “Even I came home for lunch unexpectedly that day, you were dating my son.” He shifts forward the barest amount, closing in on me. “It would be fucked up if I stood in my master bedroom and watched you finger that pretty little pussy. I’d be a monster to have watched the entire thing and fucked my hand while I pretended it was you.”

  “Shane,” I say his name like a secret, just between us. “I’m not dating your son right now.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “You came here with a purpose, but you don’t get to throw yourself at me without sharing the truth. Out with it, Lily. What did Max do?”

  I really, really don’t want to talk about it, but the sheer closeness of him makes my verbal brakes disappear. I find myself answering without having any intention of doing so. “He slept with his secretary. I think he wanted me to catch him. Either that, or he’s just really shitty as hiding it when he’s up to no good.”

  He curses softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” It’s even the truth. I will cry and I will grieve for the future I thought would be mine, and I sure as hell will spitefully fuck Max’s dad, but I’m not sorry I avoided tying my life to someone who never should have been more than a friend.

  I lift myself onto the counter, putting us at nearly the same height. The move has my skirt rising dangerously, flashing my thigh-highs and garters.

  Shane looks down and goes still. We both hold our breath as he shifts one hand to bracket my thigh and traces the point where my garter connect with the stockings. “Lily.” This time, when he says my name, he sounds different. Almost angry. “If I push up your skirt, and I going to find your bare pussy?”

  The words lash me and I can’t help shivering. I lick my lips again. “If you want to find out, I won’t stop you.”

  “Dirty girl.” He snaps the garter, the sting making me jump. “You came here for revenge.”

  There’s no point in denying it. “Yes.”

  “I’d have to a selfish asshole to take advantage of you when you’re like this.” But he’s looking at me in the way I’ve always fantasized about, like he has a thousand things he wants to do to my body and hasn’t decided where he wants to start.

  “It’s what we both want, isn’t it?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, I press. “Why not do it?”

  He moves his hand to my hip and grips the fabric of my dress, pulling it tight against my body. “I could think of a few reasons. You were going to marry my son.”

  I can’t quite catch my breath. “I’m not going to now.”

  “You’re young enough to be my daughter.”

  I watch the dress inch up my legs with every pull of his hand, baring more and more of me. The sight makes me giddy. It’s the only excuse for what slips out in response. “Should I call you Daddy, then?”

  He goes still. Just like that, he releases my dress and the fabric falls back to cover most of my thighs. Disappointment sours my stomach, but he’s not moving back. He skates his hand up my side barely brushing the curve of my breast before he grips my chin just tightly enough to hurt. “Is that what you want, Lily?” He presses two fingers to my bottom lip and I open for him. “You want to call me Daddy while I do filthy things to you that you’ve only fantasized about.” He slips his fingers into my mouth, in and out, in and out, miming fucking. I watch him with wide eyes, but I don’t get a chance to decide if I like it or not before he clamps his remaining fingers tightly around my chin, his fingers almost deep enough to gag me.

  Shane leans down and holds my gaze as his fingers pulse. “You want to call me Daddy while I slip my hand up your skirt and find out what you have waiting for me? While I bend you over this counter and fuck you with my tongue until you come?” It’s almost too much, I can’t quite catch my
breath, I really am going to gag, but he gives me no relief. “You want to ride Daddy’s cock?”

  Read Your Dad Will Do now!

  About the Author

  Katee Robert is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Entertainment Weekly calls her writing “unspeakably hot.” Her books have sold over a million copies. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, children, a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and two Great Danes who think they’re lap dogs.

  www.kateerobert.com

 

 

 


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