by London Hale
Daddy’s Best Friend
Experience Counts: A May-December Romance
London Hale
Contents
Daddy’s Best Friend
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
The DILF Sneak Peek
The DILF
Chapter 1
Also by London Hale
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 by London Hale
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Daddy’s Best Friend is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC
Cover Art © Brighton Walsh
Digital ISBN: 978-1-944336-23-3
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-944336-24-0
For inquiries, contact London Hale at [email protected]
ISBN: 978-1-944336-23-3
For Edward Cullen and the Twilight fandom,
without which, none of this would have happened.
Sparkle on.
She’s temptation personified
Nathan’s always been more than just my dad’s friend. I never thought he'd see me as an adult, especially not after avoiding me for so long. But one hug, one moment feeling every inch of him against me, shatters that illusion. Consequences no longer matter—I’m eighteen, and I’m willing to risk everything for my shot with him.
He’s not going to resist anymore
I never should’ve seen Eve as more than my best friend’s daughter. As a cop, I know it’s wrong. It’s my job to protect her from guys like me. Chasing her could cost me my career—not to mention the only family I've ever known—but I can’t hold back another second. One taste, and I want her. To hell with the fallout.
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I wasn’t sure what shit I’d done in my life to be put in this kind of hell, yet there I was. Trying to remain unaffected while Eve—my best friend’s daughter and the object of every wet dream I’d had for the past year—walked around in a tiny white dress that barely covered her ass, her legs on full display and her tits pouring out of the neckline.
I’d managed nearly a year without setting foot in this backyard, but Eve’s graduation party was something no amount of excuses would permit me to miss. It wasn’t like I could say to my best friend, “Hey, man, sorry I can’t come. I’m afraid I’ll spend the whole time picturing ways to fuck your daughter.”
Turned out that fear wasn’t unfounded. I was sure if I got close enough to her, I’d be able to see the outline of her nipples through the material of her minuscule dress, because God hated me. Said dress was reminiscent of the nearly nonexistent bikini that had turned everything to shit in the first place. So much so that I’d think she was doing it on purpose if not for the looks she kept shooting the shithead currently panting at her side like a goddamn puppy.
As I watched the two of them together, it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to storm over and crush his windpipe with my bare hands. The last time I’d see him had been when I’d stopped them for public indecency. I’d never forget the kick to the gut I got when I’d shone the flashlight through the fogged-up window into the back seat of that little shit’s car and seen Eve readjusting her clothes, her cheeks flushed pink, her lips bright red and swollen, her nipples hard enough to cut glass.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, taking a long pull from my beer, wishing it were whiskey instead. Hell, I’d take any hard liquor at this point—I wasn’t picky. Not if I had half a hope of getting through Eve’s graduation party with my sanity intact.
“Nate, glad you could make it,” Brandon said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
The rock in my gut solidified as I turned to look at my smiling best friend. He’d been the only person in my life ever to stick around, and how did I repay him? By lusting after his barely legal daughter. Some fucking friend I was.
Swallowing down the bile in my throat, I said, “Hey, man. Nice party.”
The backyard was full of more than a hundred people, fancy shit hanging from the trees and Tiki torches placed throughout his spacious yard. A taco bar and a s’mores station were set up by the outdoor kitchen, and a handful of teenagers tossed beach balls around in the in-ground pool. My only saving grace was that Eve wasn’t one of them. There was no fucking way I’d be able to handle seeing her in that bikini again.
Brandon rolled his eyes and smiled in Eve’s direction. “Yeah, she didn’t want me to make a big deal about it, but I didn’t want the day to pass without a celebration. I mean, top ten percent of her class, Nate? My girl’s a genius. It’s costing me a small fortune, but when it makes her do that”—he gestured to Eve, whose head was thrown back in laughter, her dark hair falling past her ass and her fingers curled around the forearm of Shithead—“I’ll give her whatever she wants.”
“Never have been able to say no to her,” I said.
He just shrugged. Not much he could say to dispute it. Not when I’d been the one by his side for most of the past thirteen years as he’d raised her by himself after her mom split.
“Have you stopped by to say hi to her yet? She was excited you could get the day off work. She’s missed you.”
Forget a rock—there was a fucking mountain range in my stomach, the jagged tips ripping through my insides. I was an asshole. A disgusting, perverted asshole who didn’t deserve these people in my life. Eve had already lost her mother, and because I was a sick fucker who couldn’t get a hold of his lust, she had to suffer.
“Nah, she’s having fun with her friends. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, getting Eve’s attention. Once she looked toward her dad, Brandon tilted his head in my direction. The smile that spread across her face hit me with the force of a hurricane. She was genuinely happy to see me, and I’d been spending the past year making any excuse I could to avoid being in her presence.
I watched with smug satisfaction as she left Shithead behind to run toward us, her tits bouncing and barely contained in the low neckline of her dress. Jesus. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying my damnedest to get my shit under control.
“Nathan!”
I snapped my eyes open a split second before her body collided with mine, her vanilla and apple scent surrounding me, immediately turning my cock to steel. My arm automatically went around her to catch her while I shifted my hips enough so she couldn’t feel exactly what she was doing to me, just by breathing.
“I’m so glad you came,” she said, her head resting on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me, her feet dangling above the ground.
I held her with one arm, all my concentration focused on two
things—not letting her feel my fucking hard-on and not crushing this beer bottle in my fist. After a few seconds, I set her down, stepping back and offering her what was probably more of a grimace than a smile. “Congratulations. Sorry I missed your birthday party last month. I had to work a double.”
“Yeah, Dad told me.” She fingered the edge of her short as hell dress, and I forced myself not to stare at those silky-smooth legs I wanted nothing more than to feel wrapped around my waist. “You could’ve stopped by another time. I haven’t really seen you in almost a year.”
Except that wasn’t true, and the blush on her cheeks proved she was thinking exactly what I was. The last time I’d seen her had been in the back seat of a brand-new car that cost more than I made in a year. She darted her eyes to her dad then back to me, the nervousness written clearly on her face.
Before I could reply, the blond shithead strolled up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder and bringing her into his side. “Hey, babe.”
She didn’t even glance his way, just kept her eyes on me. My cock twitched in my jeans.
“Nate, have you met Brock?” Brandon asked. “He and Evie have been seeing each other for a few months. He’s Clark’s kid.”
Brock. He even had the name of a shithead. And his parents were assholes. Rich, entitled assholes. Clark Wilkinson might be Brandon’s partner, but he was a Grade A douchebag. Despite being bred and groomed in that lifestyle, Brandon had never fit that mold, not in all the years I’d known him. And because of that, neither did Eve. But even with his shortcomings, Brock was better suited for her than I ever would be.
And I hated it.
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Yeah, I think I’ve seen him around town once or twice. You drive a brand-new Lexus, don’t you?”
Shithead looked at me then, and I had the pleasure of watching the color drain from his face. It was clear he hadn’t recognized me before, and now he was sweating bullets, no doubt praying I wouldn’t out him to his girlfriend’s father about the time he fucked her in the backseat of his car.
I ground my molars together, my jaw ticking with the effort to keep myself in check. Thirteen years ago, I took an oath to serve and protect, and in all that time, my oath had never been tested like it was right now. I wanted to strangle the pretentious little prick with his necktie that probably cost more than my first car, just because of the way he’d been looking at Eve. Like he knew her—knew what her lips tasted like, knew what her smooth skin felt like under his hands, knew the sounds she made when she came. Knew what it was like to be inside all that soft, wet heaven.
Fuck.
“I’m gonna grab another,” I said, holding up my empty beer bottle and ducking away.
Just before I went through the back door into the house, I paused and looked over my shoulder at the three of them, if only to remind myself I didn’t belong. Not here at this party. Not in this crowd. And certainly not with my best friend’s eighteen-year-old daughter.
They were right where I’d left them, Brandon and Shithead talking about something and laughing like old friends, but Eve wasn’t joining in.
Instead, she was staring right at me.
As Nathan walked away, the hug he’d given me still seared every inch of my body. How I hadn’t whimpered when his arm slid around me, I had no idea. I’d wanted to. That hug had lit something inside me I didn’t think I could extinguish. Something I didn’t even want to try to put out.
“So, my Evie’s headed to Yale, my alma mater. Are you following your old man’s footsteps, Brock?” my dad asked, apparently talking colleges and majors. Again.
Brock laughed and squeezed me closer before launching into something about Ivy League schools on the East Coast and shared plane rides back, as if he had any right to discuss my future.
But like the good girl I was, I held still so the son of the richest man in town could claim me in a way I could barely stomach. I even smiled to make sure my dad thought everything was fine. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes locked on the retreating police officer across the way. The one who hadn’t come to see me in about a year. The one who looked back at me as he reached the door.
I nearly came from that look.
Nathan devoured me with his eyes. There was so much fire in that man. So much restrained passion. I could see it, practically feel it. Everyone else went about their day, blathering on to others as if whatever they talked about was somehow important. Not me. I was pinned, completely caught up in the spell that was Nathan Pearce. Shaky and needy and altogether aroused…by my dad’s best friend.
Oh God, that thought only made it worse. Why was that so hot?
Nathan looked away and disappeared inside at the same moment my dad seemed to notice something behind me.
“Brock, your dad’s here.” The telltale signs of my dad slipping into work mode appeared just like they had at all my birthday parties. And our weekends home together. And every dinner alone with him I could ever remember, when his phone rang or an email came through. “I need to get an answer on that riverfront property deal. You’ll hang out with Evie for a few, right?”
Without waiting for a reply, he walked off, which meant Brock had me all to himself. Something he had a tendency to take advantage of. And I wasn’t in the mood for it.
“You should probably go say hi,” I said, trying to edge away from him. Not that he could take a hint. He moved his arm lower along my back and settled his hand over my hip in a possessive grip. One that felt wrong and out of place. I loved being touched—was actually really affectionate—just not then. And not with Brock.
But when Nathan hugged me…
“I promise not to be gone long,” Brock said, whispering into my ear as if I cared where he went. And maybe I would have five minutes ago, before Nathan had wrapped one big, strong arm around me and held me off the ground. Before I’d felt the hard muscles under his clothes. Before I’d noticed something else that was hard about him.
“Take your time,” I said. “I need to mingle more.”
But Brock had other ideas. “Why don’t you go grab me a beer?”
“Uh, because you’re not old enough?”
“So what? It’s a house party.” He reached down and slid his hand up the back of my thigh, teasing under the hem of my skirt. Ignoring my glare and my hand pushing against his chest. “Grab one for yourself, too. We can have a little drink, maybe find a hiding spot in that pool house of yours. I can finally see what’s going on under this dress. We just have to avoid the cop your dad hangs with. No one else will care.”
His smile should have been charming, but it only made me nauseated. This was Brock—pushy, demanding, spoiled, and not one to take no for an answer very well. Still, beers were in the kitchen. Nathan was in the kitchen. I wanted to be where he was.
“Yeah, okay,” I said, to the beer part only. There was no way I was going to be alone with him in the pool house.
Brock had been trying to get into my panties since he moved to Temperance Falls halfway through freshman year. I’d agreed to go out with him a couple of times because he had a wild side to him. I thought I’d like that, but I’d been wrong. And breaking up with the son of your dad’s business partner turned out to be a lot harder than I’d thought it would be. We weren’t together—not at all—but our dads thought we were, and Brock liked to do whatever he felt was necessary to stay in his daddy’s good graces. So he pursued me, and I did everything I could to keep my distance from him. Something that took far more time than it should have, to be honest.
But I didn’t want Brock—not as a boyfriend and certainly not as a lover. Brock was just a boy playing the part of an adult, and I wanted more than awkward fumblings and dick pics. I wanted a man who could set my insides on fire with nothing more than a look. One who made me feel safe and cared for. And I knew exactly who that man was.
But before I could make it through the crowd and inside the house where Nathan had gone, I was waylaid by the only person on earth who probably knew exactly why I
was following one of our local police officers.
“Where are you heading?” Genesis asked, walking beside me with a huge grin on her face.
“Brock wants a beer.”
“Funny. I thought I saw a certain police officer heading this same way just a minute ago.”
My face grew warm, and I cursed my pale skin for that telling sign. “Quite the coincidence.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She bit her lip to try to rein in her smile and nodded toward the crowd of people behind us. “I’ll run interference. You’ve probably got ten minutes before Brock goes chasing after that skirt.”
I tugged at said skirt. The one that was way too short. The one I’d put on hoping to attract the attention of someone other than Brock. And if the look Nathan had given me before he’d walked into the house was any indication, the dress had worked. “It’s Nathan. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“You’re right. It’s Nathan. The man you’ve secretly crushed on for years.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You look hot. He won’t be able to ignore the fact that you’re an adult now. A woman. Legal.”
God, I hoped she was right.
As she walked off in Brock’s direction with a huge, fake smile on her face, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I was about to do. I’d had a crush on Nathan Pearce for years. I’d assumed it was completely one-sided, and it probably had been. But one night, just six short months ago, Nathan had found Brock and me parked out along the lakefront. In the back seat. Nathan had gone from being my dad’s best friend to Officer Pearce in a single moment. He’d tried to appear professional and intimidating when he’d yanked the two of us out and read us the riot act about how dangerous and stupid we were being, but I’d seen through him. He’d been angry. Almost possessive of me. That had piqued my interest and made me wonder if…just if.
