My Best Friend's Daddy (Forbidden Temptations)

by Sofia T Summers

  “Of course, I am. That’s why I’ll be a good manager. Call me.”

  I walked away and headed right for the delicious doctor—who was staring at me with a face made of stone.

  Uh oh. I wasn’t sure that was quite the reaction I needed. I’d hoped for heat and possession, not that mask.

  “Shall we go?” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as nervous as I suddenly felt.

  Without a word, Dr. Fletcher took my hand and led me out to his car.

  I supposed the hand-holding was an upgrade. I squeezed his hand, but got no response.

  Well. I wasn’t going to let anything deter me. I was going to see this through to the end. I had wanted Keith Fletcher for far too long to give up on this now.

  We got into his car, and I immediately spread my legs a little, tipping the seat back so that the short skirt of my dress rode up.

  I saw Dr. Fletcher glance at me as he pulled out of the parking lot, but he didn’t say anything and returned to focusing on the road. I stretched, making the hem of my skirt rise up even higher, exposing almost all of my thighs.

  As I finished the stretch, I slid my hands down my body, teasing over my breasts and then down my stomach. “Dancing’s just… so liberating, isn’t it? But so exhausting.”

  The only warning I got was Dr. Fletcher’s hands tightening around the steering wheel before he suddenly turned us off the road, onto a deserted parking lot.

  I frowned. “What’s up?”

  If I’d been with another man who’d done that, I would’ve been scared, frightened even, but I wasn’t at all. I knew I was safe with Dr. Fletcher, and I certainly wasn’t going to complain about getting more time with him.

  Dr. Fletcher said nothing, just put the car into park—and then hauled me across the middle console and into his lap to kiss me.

  It was better than anything I had ever dreamed up.

  7

  Keith

  Part of me was so frustrated. Didn’t this girl know she was playing with fire? Didn’t she understand what she was doing to us, to our relationships with our nearest and dearest? Didn’t she know better than to wave a red flag in front of a bull?

  The rest of me was too busy being wildly turned on to care. Fuck. Her breasts that arched up as she stretched, her hands sliding over her body, her gorgeous thighs that were being exposed inch by excruciating inch to my starving gaze—I’d already been hard as a fucking steel bar from dancing with her, and then wracked with stupid, reckless jealousy seeing her flirt with that band leader, giving him her number—and then—

  It was all too fucking much for me to take. The memory of her body pressed against mine, her hips grinding as she’d straddled my thigh, her whispered promise that it would take next to nothing for her to orgasm—it all drove me insane and I hauled her into my lap, grabbing those luscious legs and spreading them wide so that there was nowhere for her to hide as I rutted against her aching core.

  Holly kissed me back eagerly, moaning as I licked into her mouth. I shoved her short little skirt up and grabbed her ass, so firm and soft and perfect, using that grip to guide her movements over my clothed cock. Fuck, she was such a good kisser. I was surprised, but also hot with more jealousy—good kissing only came with practice, and I hated the idea that she’d gotten enough of it with others to make her good, even if I was now reaping the benefits. I was determined to show her that there were still things I could show her and do to her that no other person ever could.

  It took me a moment to realize that my hands were on her bare ass. She wasn’t wearing underwear.

  “Naughty girl,” I growled, kissing down her neck. Those beautiful breasts were mere inches from my mouth.

  Holly let out a breathy gasp and shivered, as if she liked it when I called her that. She ground down harder in my lap, kissing me frantically, her hands in my hair. She felt so good, fuck, it would take next to nothing to free my cock from my pants and slide it right into her tight slick naughty little body—

  It was that thought that brought me back to reality, like a bucket of cold water over my head. I yanked my mouth away, grabbed Holly and pushed her back into her seat.

  “Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “We shouldn’t—I shouldn’t—I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Holly laughed and reached across for me again, trying to kiss me, but I pushed her back. “You don’t have to be sorry unless you’re not going to touch me anymore.”

  “No, I should be sorry for touching you in the first place. This is wrong, this isn’t allowed.”

  “I don’t care if it’s allowed or not. I want you, you want me, and we’re consenting adults. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  “That’s not all that matters, and you know it,” I replied, ignoring my throbbing cock. “Or do the opinions of our family, your best friend, your father, not matter? Does nothing matter to you?”

  Holly snorted. “You’re being overdramatic and foolish.”

  “If you think that, then it only proves how young you are.” I started the car, ignoring my continued erection, and started to drive us back to her home.

  Holly’s hand slid up underneath her skirt. “Well, if you won’t take care of me… I suppose I’ll have to do it myself.”

  I wrenched my eyes back to the road as I heard the tell-tale, filthy sound of fingers sliding inside. Oh fuck. I was hard as a rock, every slight shift of my pants against my cock a torturous tease.

  Holly moaned, and I made the mistake of looking back at her. She had one leg braced upon the dash, the other spread wide, leaving nothing to the imagination as she touched herself for me. Her fingers worked furiously, her head thrown back, a look of ecstasy on her face.

  I was wildly envious of those fingers. I wanted it to be my fingers inside of her, making her moan with pleasure, opening her wide so that she could take every inch of my cock.

  “They’re—they’re not quite big enough,” she whispered sinfully. “They’re not… stuffing me.”

  Jesus Christ, I was ready to blow my load in my pants and I hadn’t even touched my dick.

  Holly’s little moans and gasps grew in pitch, higher and higher, until she cried out and came around her fingers, shuddering all over.

  Fuck. I wanted her so fucking badly it took every shred of self-control and responsibility to keep my hands off her. She thought that was a good orgasm? I’d fill her up, stuff her, have her writhing on my cock and sobbing with need and then I’d make her come so hard she couldn’t even scream from pleasure. I’d make her come so many times she couldn’t even beg anymore.

  My hands were white-knuckled around the steering wheel as I pulled up in front of the house. Holly stole some napkins from my glove compartment to clean herself up and I felt like I was going insane.

  I put the car into park and Holly opened her door. “I’m not a little girl,” she said. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants, and I’m going to get it.”

  She got out and closed the door, pausing only when she reached her front door to turn around and blow a kiss at me before she slipped inside the house.

  I let out a slow breath. I felt like I hadn’t been able to breathe properly the entire time Holly was in the car with me.

  The entire time home I berated myself. Even though it did nothing to help with my aching cock. How could I have been so weak, given into temptation so easily? Holly was a determined person and she had been pulling out all the stops tonight, but that wasn’t an excuse. I should have been stronger. I was older than she was, damn it, I was supposed to be more mature, I was supposed to have a damn handle on these things.

  Why couldn’t I have just stayed away? I never should’ve gone to the bar. It wasn’t my business what Holly did or didn’t do while she was out, including who she might do, and that was just something I was going to have to accept.

  I had betrayed the trust of my best friend. I had nearly had sex with his daughter. Fuck. I had to get past this.

  Nothing felt better by the time I got home
. The house was dark, Dawn definitely asleep already, and I was glad. If she found out what happened… if she was awake and saw me in this state, my pants tented and stained with Holly’s slick, my lips swollen from her kisses… there’d be no explanation I could give that would cover up what had happened.

  I had a quick, furtive jerk off in the shower, guilt running through me the entire time. Her gorgeous wet pussy and those beautiful breasts had been so close, I could taste them in my imagination. For a moment, my hand on my cock, I indulged myself in the fantasy of what it would have felt like to have her around me, have her squirming on my lap and whimpering as I fucked her good and proper, showed her what a real man could do to her.

  It didn’t take long for me to get myself off. How could it with the phantom feeling of her touch still imprinted into my skin, with the vivid imagery of what I’d almost had burned into my brain?

  I cleaned up and crawled into bed, feeling like the worst of men. Holly was only twenty-one. She didn’t know what she was getting into or what she was doing. She didn’t understand. It was my job to be the responsible person here.

  I had to keep my distance. And this definitely couldn’t happen again.

  8

  Holly

  I was going to have to do something drastic to get one Keith Fletcher to give into me. I could understand his reservations, at least in the plain light of day when I was sober and in my bed instead of in his lap. He was a considerate man, that was part of why I liked him so much. Of course, he would worry about how his daughter and his best friend, my father, would feel about this situation.

  But I was going to convince him that I was worth setting aside whatever concerns he had. I was going to have him, one way or another. I’d never not gotten anything or anyone I wanted before, and I had no intention of changing that trend now.

  Not that I didn’t understand that our relationship was taboo. It frustrated me that he still thought I was some idiot, naïve girl who didn’t understand what she was getting herself into. I was fully aware. I had wanted him for years, so I’d had plenty of time to consider the ramifications of our relationship. I had simply decided that the dear doctor was worth the risk.

  Touching myself in the car last night had been fun, but I couldn’t leave it at that. I needed something that he could return to. All he had now were memories, and those he could easily brush aside. I wanted him to have something that would constantly exist and taunt him, remind him of what he could have if he would just reach out and take it.

  Hmm.

  It took me a little while to come up with the idea, trying to figure out exactly what would work best and what I wanted to do, but at last I hit on what would work best. Or at least what I hoped would work best.

  While I had never had sex before with any of my previous boyfriends, I had quite the nice collection of lingerie. Part of it was in anticipation of the day I would be able to show it all off, but part of it had just been for me. I felt confident and sure of myself while wearing sexy lingerie, even if nobody knew what was going on under my clothes. It just gave me an extra boost.

  Today, though, I was going to use that lingerie for something, and someone else would definitely know what I was wearing and just how great I looked in it.

  I’d gotten the idea when lying in bed scrolling through social media, trying to distract myself from my frustration over Dr. Fletcher and that whole situation, and I’d seen a thirst trap one of my friends had posted. One of those photos where the person was going shirtless (if they were a guy) or wearing something that was just revealing enough to stay on the right side of decency (if they were a girl). Giving the camera that flirty pouty look, or a smoldering gaze, doing a pose that was just provocative enough to get everyone hot and bothered.

  Now I knew what to do.

  I’d make my own thirst trap, only this one would be for just one person only. I wouldn’t post it on social media, because I wasn’t going to make this something that everyone in the world could see. I didn’t want validation from friends or strangers or just anyone. I wanted to drive one particular person crazy.

  After a bit of indecision, I at last settled on a set of dark red lingerie that I always thought looked well with my skin tone and hair. The set was lacy, with just a hint of my skin peeking through, but it still covered up the goods to give a proper tease, not exposing anything too much. I threw my robe over it and then set my phone up to record.

  Mom and Dad were used to me playing music in the house, so luckily there was no interruption when I hit play and started up a song. I kept it classy with some jazz, to show that I wasn’t just about club music. I was sophisticated, just like the man I wanted to be with.

  I swayed to the music, my hips moving back and forth, and then slowly pulled the robe open. I undid the tie, pushing the robe off my shoulders, and let it fall ever so slowly down until it was pooling on the floor and I was in the lingerie. I slid my hands over my body, cupping my breasts, teasing my fingertips along the hem of my panties, always continuing to move to the music that played from the nearby speaker.

  Unlike last night, when I’d boldly gotten myself off right in front of him, this wasn’t about showing him what he was missing out on. This was about teasing him with what he could have, this was about keying him up and driving him wild so that he would want to finish what the video started.

  I ran my fingertips down my throat, my cleavage, over the tops of my breasts. Then, as the song ended, I gave a final wink to the camera and then blew it a kiss.

  No way he could resist this.

  Once I clipped off the awkward beginning and ending of the video where I got into position and then turned it off, I sent the whole thing to Dr. Fletcher.

  I even added the caption a present for you… just begging to be unwrapped.

  My phone showed that the whole thing had been delivered, but Dr. Fletcher didn’t have reading receipts turned on, so I didn’t know if he’d actually seen it or not. I certainly didn’t get a text in response.

  Maybe he was busy? Or maybe he just didn’t want to look at it. My heart sank a little—and then my phone rang.

  Yes!

  Only it wasn’t a gorgeous doctor telling me he was ready to give me a spanking. It was Simon.

  I held in my disappointment. I did have a life outside of romance, and I needed to get my career off the ground. I should be glad that Simon was calling me, but I still couldn’t help the annoyance. I answered anyway, bright and cheerful.

  “Hey, so glad you called!”

  “Hey.” Simon sounded more businesslike than before. I hoped that meant he took me seriously about not wanting to date him. “So, I spoke with the other guys, and they agree we should give you a serious shot. But before we do anything else, we want you to prove you can do something for us. We want you to get us a gig at one of the college bars in town, you know, those ones that always have a huge crowd on the weekends.”

  Oh, was that all? “You should have given me a hard task,” I told him.

  Simon laughed and I hung up, already debating on how to get the guys a booking.

  Well, if nothing else, it took my mind off of my romantic woes.

  I looked up the venues online, the ones that I remembered going to in college, and wasn’t surprised to find that they were booked up. What did surprise me was how long they were booked up for. Their schedule was covered for months. There was no way that I could tell the band they could expect to see themselves on stage around Christmas.

  Ugh. I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was the sort of place where bands vied for a chance to get a gig because they could get signed.

  But then, at one of the bars, I saw a familiar name in the band lineup.

  I called at once. “Hey, Rebecca!”

  Rebecca was an accountant, which nobody expected given her attitude and fashion choices. She played in a local band to blow off steam from her job, and she was pretty relaxed about it since she considered it a hobby and not a career.

  “H
ey!” Rebecca seemed pleased to hear from me. “What’s up?”

  We chatted for about half an hour, because I wasn’t going to be rude and I didn’t want her to think I had only called her because I needed a favor. My dad had always taught me that. You needed to treat clients and connections like they were your friends. The moment they felt like you only cared about what they could do for you, you’d lost.

  I eventually steered the conversation over to music, and admitted that I was trying to get a gig managing an up-and-coming band.

  Rebecca sounded impressed. “I didn’t take you for the type, but I’m excited for you! Let me know if you need any tips.”

  “Actually, I would love some. I was looking up places to get them a gig and everything’s booked solid.”

  “Yeah, it’s tough, you gotta manage your expectations, be patient, really plan these things.”

  “But I need to impress this band and prove I can represent them well, get them in places.” I paused. “You wouldn’t be willing to do me a favor, would you?”

  Rebecca laughed. “I can’t squeeze you in their lineup, I’m not that good.”

  “No, but you could give me whatever spot you have.”

  “I don’t know, what will you give me in exchange?”

  “You can be featured on their album.” I was going to tell Simon they needed to start work on a proper album right away anyway, but this would just encourage me to poke him harder about it.

  After all, long gone were the days when you gave out CDs at gigs you played, or stuffed them into envelopes to send to studios. Now there were music streaming apps. I’d seen one British folk rock band make bank selling only on streaming services, and using that to convince people to give them bigger, better gigs, performing at festivals around England and even going to New York City for a special concert.

  Besides, Rebecca was a talented singer and keyboard player. It wouldn’t hurt to have her featured.

  “Mmm, but what if they flop?” Rebecca pointed out. “I’m not going to partner myself up with people who aren’t any good.”