Forbidden Roommate: Her Dad's Best Friend Series Set

by Penny Wylder

  Mom flashes me a wink and a grin, before she easily swings her legs around Dad’s neck, and he hauls her up onto his back. They’ve done this so many times that she finds her balance in a split second, like it’s second nature.

  A knot of fear curls in my stomach. But it’s overpowered by the anticipation, as Russ kneels in front of me. I swallow through a suddenly dry throat and reach up for his shoulders. He takes both of my hands in his instead, and I push my weight onto his hands as I swing my legs up his backside to wrap over both his shoulders at once.

  He’s so warm, his muscles tensing under my weight. It makes me catch my breath. Especially when he lets go of my hands. I grasp his head to steady myself, and I’m painfully aware of where my pussy is pressed against the back of his neck, his head nestled into my belly, his hair tickling the soft, sensitive skin there.

  What did I just get myself into?

  My parents’ other friends form a loose circle around us, some cheering and clapping, others just grinning and sipping their drinks. Mom and Dad are frighteningly good at this game. They’re usually the undefeated champs of the night. Which is probably why they always suggest playing it. Mom loves any game where she can dominate.

  It takes me longer than her to get my balance. Feeling Russ move beneath me, and having to adjust my weight and balance in tune with his, feels strangely intimate. Especially when his hands drop to grip my thighs tightly, just bare inches from his own face. I suck in a sharp breath and try not to focus on how good his hands feel pressed against my skin.

  I try not to think too hard about how good his head feels between my thighs, either, or I’m going to start wishing he was facing the other direction.

  “Ready?” Mom calls and holds out her arms.

  I grasp her forearms in the starting position and offer a grin that feels braver than I actually feel right now. “Ready,” I reply, and I’m glad my voice doesn’t quiver the way my body is doing right now.

  Without any more warning, Mom starts to shove at me, hard.

  I push right back, bracing myself against Russ. It makes me grit my teeth, struggling to keep my seat as Mom tries her best to fling me off him, first by throwing her weight to one side, then the next. Dad moves with her every motion, so she’s never thrown off balance by her own attempts.

  After a couple of close calls, where I nearly topple before righting myself at the last moment, and only thanks to Russ’s tight grip on my thighs, I notice that under the water, Mom’s legs are tapping. She gently taps her heel against Dad’s side to indicate which direction she’s going to try to throw me next.

  The next time she does it, I tap Russ on the other side, then throw my weight opposite her. She gasps and swears, and nearly loses her seat before Dad skips to one side to catch her.

  “Careful there, old man,” Russ calls out playfully, and I suppress another shiver at the way his voice travels through me when he speaks, with me up on his shoulders like this. It feels like a vibration going through me.

  “Look who’s talking!” Dad calls back, and then he pushes toward us, Mom going on the offensive again.

  I brace hard and manage to twist away from her tackle attempt yet again. I tap Russ on the other side, and we sidestep another attack by our opponents. That’s when I feel Russ’s hands slide a little higher. Just an inch. But a moment later it happens again, his hands inching toward the crease where my leg touches my thighs. My breath hitches.

  It’s enough of an opportunity, apparently. Mom lunges without warning, and I’m too distracted by Russ’s hands. She grabs my forearms and flings me backward, and a moment later, I slide off Russ’s back into the cool waiting water of the pool.

  I resurface a split second later to thunderous cheers and yells.

  Dad and Russ shake good-naturedly, Mom slaps my back and winks. “Better luck next time,” she calls. But I barely even notice, as she and Dad turn to face their next competitor, a younger couple who live down the street.

  I don’t notice, because Russ is behind me, his hands on me again, but my hips this time, drawing me back against him. It’s dangerous. Playing with fire, to stand this close right now.

  “Good game, teammate,” he says softly, and his hands slip down over my hips to grab my ass, tightly, fast. His hand moves again before I can even react, but I suck in a sharp, startled breath.

  Fuck. I want him. So goddamn badly, it’s killing me right now.

  “You threw that game,” I hiss through clenched teeth, after my heart rate calms down again, and my breathing returns to almost normal. “I got… distracted.”

  “I was hoping you would.” His eyes dance with amusement. Then I notice him glance sideways, just a little, quick as a blink. “They’ll be busy for a while…” he points out. With that, he steps back and grasps the rung of the ladder on this end of the pool. Then he hauls himself up and out of the water, shooting me one last pointed backward glance, before he snags a towel and pads through the greenhouse to the sliding door and back inside the house.

  The deserted house, now that the rest of the party are all occupied out here.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I glance around the pool again, at all the people cheering on the game or pouring themselves new drinks or snacking on the sidelines. I hold my breath and wait what feels like an eternity but is probably really only half a minute. Then, pulse racing at what I’m about to do, I swim over to the ladder and climb up to follow Russ inside.

  6

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I breathe, as Russ shuts my bedroom door behind me. “There are so many people down there. Anyone could come back inside at any moment, decide they want to come up and use the bathroom…”

  Russ silences my protests by pinning me against the bedroom door and kissing me, hard. His hands don’t hesitate, not now that we’re alone. They roam down my body, from my chest along my curves to my ass. His palms trace around to grip my ass tightly in two fists, and he pulls me up and against him, until I arch my whole body against his with a groan. Both of us are still wet from the pool, and his skin feels hot and slick against mine.

  Not to mention the rock hard strain in his swimming trunks, begging to be released. God, his cock is already so fucking hard. How did he even manage to walk up the stairs without anyone noticing?

  “It’s a good thing you’re used to being a good, quiet girl, then, isn’t it?” Russ asks me with a wicked grin. From the bedroom walls behind him, my old posters of the celebrities I grew up crushing on stare back at me, almost like they’re egging me on. Because if I could have gotten away with it back in college when I was home visiting on breaks, I would have hung Russ’s face right up there with them. He was every bit as much one of my forbidden crushes as those boy bands and famous actors were.

  Maybe even more so, because I got to see him in person, even if we could never really touch outside of the proper hugs hello or goodbye at parties just like the one my parents are throwing downstairs.

  Suddenly, it feels like that younger version of me, the one who dreamed of this moment for years, is roaring back to life. And I don’t’ care anymore how dangerous this could be, or what my father will do to both of us if he walks in on us right now. He’d fire Russ, yes. He’d probably fire me too, or maybe even go as far as to kick me out of the house. I don’t know for sure. I know he’d want to punish me, and even Mom’s placating influence could only go far if I really pushed him with something this forbidden.

  I don’t care.

  Russ is still watching me with that smile, waiting for a response. So I give it to him. I reach up and wrap both arms around his strong, muscular shoulders, and pull him down against me, as my mouth finds his again. I kiss him harder, desperately. As if I can transfer all my own fear and desire and want into this one kiss. His lips part against mine, and his tongue slips into my mouth, sliding against mine, wrestling for control.

  He finds it again, easily. His hands slide down my curves, and with one swift tug, he lets the towel I’d wrapped around my
self back by the poolside puddle at my feet. We’re practically naked now, only his swimming trunks and my skimpy bikini standing between our completely naked bodies.

  It was one thing to fuck him in the stairwell at work, hard and fast, but still with practically all of our clothes on. It’s another to be able to take my time now. To trace my hands over his abs, counting each one with exploring fingers. To feel the way he crushes me against him and spins with me in his arms, toward the distant, narrow twin bed that I grew up sleeping in.

  “I need you, Maggie,” he says, his voice a desperate growl that echoes my own white hot desire in this moment. It feeds my craving like a feedback loop, making the tight sensation between my legs, as my clit begins to physically ache with want, grow more insistent. Knowing that he wants me as much as I want him, that he’s thought about this as often as I have… I can’t explain the thrill I get from of that.

  “You’ve got me,” I whisper, because damn the consequences, fuck how badly this will blow up in our faces if anyone finds out. I don’t care anymore.

  Russ’s smile grows as soon as those words leave my mouth, and then he hoists me without warning against, earning a little squeak of protest from me as he sweeps my legs out from under me. But he doesn’t toss me into the deep end of a pool this time. He just lowers me gently onto my own bed, before he lies down on top of me, slowly, so I can savor every inch of his hot skin, still damp from the pool, as it sizzles against mine.

  The bed really is tiny. I knew that, factually speaking. But it’s another thing to try to share it with another body. Some part of me dimly notes that I’ve never even hooked up with anyone, even someone my own age, in this bed. I was always too terrified of what my father would do if he caught us, even after I graduated from nursing school and returned back here full time. On the rare occasions when I have hooked up with guys in the past, I’ve always gone to their places to do it.

  Which only makes this feel extra dirty and forbidden.

  “You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you all night,” Russ murmurs against my neck, as his fingers trace down my sides to my hips. He flattens one hand against my belly and lets his fingertips toy with the hem of my panties. I suck in a sharp breath and try to concentrate on remembering to breathe.

  It’s hard to do that whenever he’s around. Let alone when he’s touching me like this. “You didn’t manage all that well… during that game of chicken,” I point out, only losing my breath once during the whole sentence, and proud of myself for it.

  His grin widens. “What can I say? I slipped.” He leans down to kiss me again, and I let my eyes flutter closed, my lips already parted in anticipation. But he only kisses the corner of my mouth, his lips tracing down the edge of my jawline next, and along it until he nips gently at the soft, sensitive spot where my ear meets the corner of my jaw.

  I gasp again softly and arch up against him. When I do that, I can feel the press of his cock through his trunks, already stiff and ready for me, swollen with desire. I drop my hands, wrap them around his hips to grip his ass tightly. Fuck, he has a firm ass.

  I drag him down against me and wriggle a little beneath him, so my belly presses against his cock.

  He groans against the crook of my neck, and nips me again, a little harder this time. “Don’t make me leave a mark for your parents to wonder about on you…” There’s a teasing threat in his voice, and it sends a flutter straight to my belly.

  “Russ… We really can’t let them catch us.” He’s been friends with my dad for a long time, yes, and he knows what his temper is like. But he has no idea how protective my father is about me, or how much this would set Dad off. Some part of me is still convinced Russ isn’t aware of what he’s getting into.

  “Maggie.” He draws back from me, just far enough that my chest and stomach feel cold without the warm press of his body against me. I’m still a little damp from the pool, and it makes me shiver in the cool air of my room, goosebumps pricking along my limbs. But when he catches my eyes, I forget about that. I forget about everything but gazing into those deep pools of brown, his expression both sincere and slightly amused. “I know what I’m doing, Mags. I know what I want.”

  Even before he says anything else, those words shiver through me, impossible to ignore.

  “I want you. No matter what the risks are.” His voice is deep, filled with feeling. It makes me wonder if he really has thought about me for as long as I’ve been fantasizing about him. I know he said he’d thought about me like this before, but how often? How intensely?

  The look in his eyes makes me want to find out.

  “Russ…” He doesn’t let me ask, though. Not now. He silences me with another slow, intense kiss, one that has my breath coming short and my body arching up against him. At the same time, his fingers slip under my bikini bottoms, and his index finger traces circles across my freshly shaven mound. He grazes the edge of my clit, and I swallow hard against the moan that rises in my chest.

  He takes his time tonight. His kisses are slow, deep. His fingers move slowly, too. He teases and taunts, tracing the edges of my pussy lips before he so much as lets a single finger enter my slit. As he continues to stroke and tease my pussy, his head dips again, and he begins to kiss his way down my chest, his tongue flicking out every now and then to taste my skin, leaving wet, warm patches and making me sigh with want.

  “God, that mouth of yours…” I murmur at one point, when he finally reaches my chest, and he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue toying with the tip of it, making it stiffen between his lips.

  He draws back just far enough to flash a knowing look up at me. “Wait until you see what this mouth can do to you,” he murmurs, a promise hidden behind his dark gaze. His hands take the chance to slide around under me, then, and he undoes the knots of my bikini to let it fall away entirely.

  I lose track of time as he licks and sucks at my nipples, alternating between pinching the free one between his fingertips ever so gently, rolling the hard little nub just enough to make me twist beneath him, while his tongue laps at my other breast. Then he switches, back and forth until the sensation has started to build toward a kind of peak inside me, a type of orgasm I never even knew was possible.

  I’m breathing hard, barely able to contain myself, before Russ flashes me a sly look once more. “I love watching you come undone,” he murmurs softly, his breath heating my wet skin.

  Then he starts to kiss lower. Down and under my breasts, nipping at the plump undersides softly. “I love making you come undone,” he adds.

  He dips down again and keeps moving, lower and lower, nipping at my belly, and then grasping the corner of my bikini bottoms in between his teeth. With one sharp, practiced motion, he tugs those down. They peel away from my pussy with a slick sound, leaving me exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. A shiver starts at the tip of my head and works itself through my body, all the way down to my toes and the tips of my fingers, which tingle from the sensation.

  And he’s barely even getting started.

  He keeps going, not releasing my bikini from his teeth, but peeling it all the way down my body with his mouth alone. When he finally tugs it off my feet, I expect him to slide back up and warm me with his presence again. Instead, he picks up one of my legs and gently kisses the soft skin at the spot where my ankle meets my foot. His tongue lashes out, traces hot trails over me. He kisses his way slowly up, up. Over one calf, all the way up to my knee, where his tongue licks the back of it.

  I shiver, my breath shuddering in my lungs. “That… mouth again,” I manage breathily.

  He grins. “I want to taste every inch of you, little one.” With that, he lowers my leg back to the bed, switches to the other side, and does the same thing over, slow and steady. I could lose my mind from this treatment alone. From the pleasure of his hot mouth against me, and the alternating chills that race through my body as he kisses, licks, sucks, teases me. Finally, slowly, he makes his way back up to my
thighs, which he parts gently. His hands reach up to grip my ass, and I obey the silent command, arching up against him.

  Still, he moves slow. His tongue traces the crease where my thigh meets my hip, first one and then the next. His lips come back to trail across my mound, and he smiles against me, his lips touching my skin. “Nice and shaved for me,” he says softly. “I like that.”

  I reach down, tentative at first, almost afraid to break this spell. But as he keeps moving, kissing lower, until his tongue brushes along the outer lips of my pussy, I can’t resist any longer. I bury my hands in his hair, enjoying the thick, full feeling of it, and how soft it feels between my fingertips.

  He presses his mouth fully against my pussy, as if he’s kissing it, the same way he kisses my mouth, hard and fast. I gasp and let my head fall back against the cushions of the bed. One glance down at him between my legs reminds me of earlier in the pool. The way he balanced me on his back.

  The way he touched me with my parents just a couple feet away. Like he’s doing now.

  But the thought, far from taking me out of the moment or worrying me, only adds to the fire. This is me taking back control of my own life. This is me doing what’s best for me, and damn the consequences or what anyone else thinks.

  Russ’s tongue parts my pussy lips and delves between them, thick and strong. Exploring. He trails it all the way along my slit, and I can already tell that I’m soaking wet, but he leans back to comment anyway, heat and amusement both dancing in those dark eyes. “God, I love how wet you get for me, Maggie. Tell me, are you this wet when you fantasize about me at night?”

  “Every night,” I breathe, my cheeks flushing from the admission, not to mention the dirty words. But I might as well admit it. It’s true.

  His grin widens. “You have no idea how hard it makes me to hear about that. About you touching yourself, thinking of me…”