My Best Friend's Dad

by Cassandra Dee

  Plus, her friendship means a lot to me. This morning, we sat in our pajamas and ate bowls of sugar-coated cereal as we listened to our favorite songs on repeat. We sang at the top of lungs as if we were on stage performing. It was a good time, almost like having a sister. But that’s the thing. Our relationship is sisterly, not mother/daughter. What would she do if she knew what Chris and I had done? Instantly, my face goes hot.

  “Sorry about last night,” my friend says breezily. “I think the anchovies on the pizza made me sick.” I’m glad she feels better, but at the same time, I didn’t mind that she went to bed early last night. In fact, I was happy about it.

  “It-it’s okay,” I stammer, still blushing. “No big deal.”

  Jenny strolls along, totally oblivious.

  “How did you make out with The Great Gatsby homework, by the way?”

  I swallow hard. What should I say? I decide to go with the truth.

  “I had some trouble, but your dad helped me out lots. He made it all make sense.” This is technically true. Because Chris did make The Great Gatsby much easier to understand, but I feel guilty omitting the part about us sleeping together.

  “That’s good,” she says, suddenly turning to face me. Oh no. Something’s on her mind. I start to worry. What if she does know what really happened last night? I silently panic on the inside as she takes a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re staying with us, Marie.”

  That’s it?

  “I’m glad I’m staying with you, too,” I say with a sigh of relief. Thank goodness our secret is still safe. Mentally, I wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “Have you seen any guys you like so far here at Bradford?” Jenny asks curiously. I bite my lip.

  “Hmm. Not really. I haven’t seen anyone my type. I think I’m into older guys.” At least that part’s not a lie. It feels good being somewhat honest with her.

  “That makes sense,” Jenny laughs. “You’re French! Plus, you’re very mature, so you need an older guy. Just don’t try to date any of the teachers,” she jokes.

  “I won’t,” I reply ruefully, trying not to give off any signs that I’m falling in love with her dad.

  But then, Jenny lowers her voice and looks around.

  “There’s a guy that I like here at Bradford,” she admits. “But I don’t think he realizes I’m alive.” The smile fades from her once chipper face.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  “He’s in my calculus class, but we’ve never spoken. I’ve had a crush on him since forever. I see him hanging around all of the cheerleaders all the time, so why would he want someone like me?” she adds sadly. “I’m just a schlep compared to them.”

  I sigh. I think my new friend allows her weight to be a barrier between her and the rest of her classmates. I think she’s beautiful the way the way she is, but she obviously doesn’t. Hopefully, by the end of my stay, I can help her realize that she’s absolutely gorgeous the way she is. So I try to be gentle.

  “He’s just one guy,” comes my kind rejoinder. “Are there any other guys you like?”

  “Yeah, but I’m too shy to talk to them.”

  “You have to take risks, Jenny. You never know who might be secretly in love with you too.”

  Jenny laughs a little before growing solemn.

  “How do you know when a guy likes you?” she asks. I think for a bit. That’s a good question. In fact, less than twenty-four hours ago, I’d wondered if Chris felt the same way about me that I felt about him. Uncertainty can be scary, and revealing your feelings to someone can feel like jumping off of a cliff sometimes, so I try to come up with a response that is honest.

  “You don’t know unless he tells you. Sometimes, guys can be just as scared of revealing their feelings to us as we are of revealing our feelings to them. It can be frightening telling someone how you feel, but it’s a risk you have to take. You have to take it because you don’t want to miss out on love. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what if, n'est-ce pas?”

  After all, if I hadn’t taken a risk with Chris, I would still be going half-crazy wondering if my feelings are one-sided. I want Jenny to experience the same happiness I’ve found. Sure, what I have with Chris isn’t perfect, but we’ll figure it out. And his daughter deserves the same. She’s a sweet girl with a kind heart. She should know how it feels to be held by a man she adores, cuddled and stroked and then made to scream with ecstasy. Every woman should know how it feels because it’s the best feeling in the world.

  “Thanks, Marie. You’re like the sister I never had. I was just telling my dad this morning how much it means to me that you’re going to be living with us for the next six months.” Oh my God. Jenny’s words make my stomach turn. She thinks of me as a sister. I feel the same way about her, but would she still feel this way if she knew how I feel about her father? I swallow hard as I try not to think about how I might have just betrayed Jenny’s trust. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I love Jenny like a sister, but I’m in love with Chris. How am I supposed to decide between the two of them?

  “I’m sure all of the boys like you already, Marie,” my friend continues on. “You’re beautiful, and you have an amazing body. Guys around here love huge boobs and butts. You’re lucky you have both,” she says sadly, wearing her insecurities on her sleeve.

  But I have to step in here.

  “Immature boys want a woman for her body. A real man cares about what lies beneath the beauty,” I reassure her. The corners of her lips turn up as a smile graces her face, and the nature of the conversation changes. We giggle as we gossip about boy bands and which liquid eyeliner is the best. It does feel like we’re sisters, but there’s only one problem: I’m hopelessly attracted to her dad, and I can’t tell anyone. I have to keep this secret to myself because if anyone ever found out, our love affair would be over. And unfortunately … I’m not ready for that to happen quite yet.

  Chapter Nine

  Chris

  I glance at my watch, waiting impatiently for the elevator. As usual, it’s been another late night at the office, but tonight is different. Tonight, I’d hoped I could make it home early enough to spend some time with Marie. She’s been on my mind all day, and I can still taste her on my lips. She’s sweet, almost like the juiciest peach. I lick my lips and smile to myself. I want to ask her about her day and what grade she got on her homework, and possibly sneak in a goodnight kiss. But now, it’s late, and she’s probably already asleep.

  Ding! I dash onto the elevator. It will only take me fifteen minutes to get home, but those fifteen minutes are going to feel like an eternity. I glance at my watch again. It’s pointless to rush home at this point. It’s almost midnight, so I’m sure both Jenny and Marie are asleep. I tap my foot as I anxiously wait for the elevator to reach the lobby. I’ve never minded my busy schedule before, but now I wish I had more hours in the day. With my work like this, it’ll be almost impossible to get some time alone with the woman I’m falling in love with.

  Wait a minute, falling in love? What in the world? But it’s true. No woman has ever made me feel like this. It’s like my heart is constantly pounding out of my chest, and every cell comes awake in her presence. There’s something different about the beautiful French girl. Something I can’t explain. Yet it makes me love her from the curly locks on the top of her head down to her pretty little toes.

  I burst through the elevator doors before they’re even completely open. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe Marie is still awake. She might still be up doing her homework. If so, I can help her and make sure she understands the lesson, and then sneak in one kiss. I’d give anything to stare into her beautiful brown eyes and run my fingers through her soft hair. I want to hear her describe how her day went in her sexy French accent. I just need to see her, even if it’s only for a moment.

  I flag down a yellow taxi and hop inside. “Fifth Avenue,” is my curt command. “Drive fast.” He speeds down the Manhattan streets, racing to g
et me to Marie in time. I need to feel her in my arms. I check my watch again. Shit, time seems to have slowed to a stop. The driver glances at me through the rearview mirror.

  “Running late?” he inquires.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “I’ll get you there as soon as possible, sir,” he promises as the car accelerates. At this rate, I should be home in the next ten minutes, but will it be too late?

  The doorman swings the glass door wide open. “Good evening, Mr. Jones. How was your day?”

  “Fine,” I say as I brush past him and dash toward the elevator. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m trying to get to Marie as soon as possible. I impatiently press the button repeatedly. The doors open, and a crowd of people slowly mosey off of the elevator. God. I check my watch again. It’s late, and Marie is probably sound asleep. Fuck! How did this happen? All hope seeps from my soul, and this time, when the elevator doors ding on my floor, I drag my feet to my apartment with sunken shoulders. It’s going to be a long, lonely night without Marie. Sure, she’s actually only in the next bedroom over, but it’ll feel like she’s on another planet. I unlock the door and try not to make too much noise as I walk inside. But to my surprise, the lights are still on. Jenny never stays up this late on a school night, so it can only mean one thing. Suddenly, hope makes me stand up straight, my strides now long and sure.

  “Marie?” I call out as I walk into the living room. Sure enough, Marie is sitting on the couch flicking through channels. She looks up at me with happiness shining from her eyes, as if she’s been waiting up for me. Hmmm, this is really nice. It feels good to have a warm, willing woman staying up late to greet you with a kiss when you come home. I’m just as excited to see her but can only manage lame niceties.

  “You’re still awake?” I ask.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she murmurs. “Not without a goodnight kiss from you.” At that, I stalk over and scoop up the brunette in my arms. I inhale her sweet smell, practically getting drunk off of it. I kiss her juicy lips, finally satisfying my craving.

  I suddenly back away, realizing we might not be alone. “Where’s Jenny?” I ask. For all I know, she could be wide awake only a few steps away. I’ve missed Marie, but I also have to be careful.

  “She went to bed hours ago. I waited for you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you all day today,” she admits with a shy smile.

  “I missed you too,” I growl. “I wanted to get home early, but I got caught up at the office. I was afraid you were already asleep.” Goddamn. She’s wearing the same Snoopy T-shirt from the other morning, the hem just brushing the tops of her thighs. She turns me on in a way that no other woman ever has. A curly lock drapes down in front of her face. I move it to the side with the rest of her curls, revealing her gorgeous face. She’s not wearing any make up again, and her natural beauty is stunning.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks.

  “I’m starving,” I reply.

  “Well, you’re in luck because I make the world’s best crepes.” She giggles before grabbing my hand and leading me into the kitchen. Her plump ass sways from side to side with every step she takes. I lift the T-shirt up and stare at her juicy ass cheeks. She giggles and playfully swats my hand away.

  I watch from the island in the kitchen as she elegantly whisks the crepe batter. It feels good to come home to a woman cooking for me. It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like. Adele never lifted a spatula for me. In fact, she never cared about taking care of me; she only cared about being taken care of.

  By contrast, Marie is young, but she already knows how to please a man. I could get used to having a woman around my penthouse, cooking and cleaning for me, as well as warming my bed. It’s like she’s perfect. In fact, I could see myself marrying someone like her.

  What the hell? Marriage? What planet am I on? But the truth is that it feels right. We’re so comfortable together, and she’s a perfect fit for my dominant ways. She’s so giving and innocent, in contrast to my alpha male ruthlessness.

  “I haven’t had a woman cook for me in over a decade,” I say roughly.

  She looks at me with shocked brown eyes.

  “C’est impossible! What about your ex-girlfriend? Didn’t she cook for you?”

  I snort ruefully.

  “I don’t think Adele even knows how to boil water. And after my ex-wife and I divorced, I did all the cooking. So I’m the guy in the kitchen,” I say with a grin.

  “Well, while I’m here, you’ll always get a home-cooked meal,” she vows, placing the crepe in front of me. Wow. It smells like butter, cheese, and a little slice of heaven.

  “Thank you,” I grunt, taking a bite of the savory crepe. The flavors of brie, spinach, and tomatoes dance around inside of my mouth. On top of everything else, Marie’s an amazing chef. How did I get so lucky?

  “This is delicious, sweetheart,” I mumble around a mouthful of the flavorful crepe.

  “I’m glad you like it,” she says as she smiles seductively at me. I’m falling for her hard, but how can we ever make our love public? How am I supposed to tell Jenny that I’m falling in love with her friend? She would probably be ashamed, not to mention shocked and horrified. I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my only daughter, but on the other hand, Marie might be the love of my life. So what do I do?

  Shit, I have no idea. So I decide to live in the moment. After polishing off the crepe, I strip down to my boxer briefs and crawl into bed next to Marie. She snuggles her body closely against mine. I place my hand on her hip and trace her curves with my fingers as I stare deeply into her bottomless caramel eyes. What I feel for her isn’t just sexual. She doesn’t just make my dick hard; she makes my heart throb too. Nothing else matters when I’m with her. It’s like we’re in our own little world. How am I supposed to choose between this feeling and my daughter? But I avoid the difficult conversation.

  “Tell me about your life back home,” I invite.

  She wriggles a bit, getting comfortable. God, it feels so right with this curvy brunette in my bed.

  “My village in France is nothing like New York City. On my way home from school, I pass by farms with goats and cows. Have you ever seen a cow before?”

  “Only on TV,” I joke. She giggles, and the sound of her laughter makes my heart race.

  “Well, they’re strange animals. Did you know they have two stomachs? It’s very weird, but it’s the country life. I live with my papa, mama, my little brothers, and my two bulldogs Pierre and Elsa. I miss them all so much,” she admits with a sigh.

  “You’ll see them soon,” I reassure her, but the words are a rude awakening for me. Eventually, Marie is going to go back home to France. How can we continue our romance if we’re on two separate continents?

  “You’re right,” she says as she gently places her hand on my cheek. “At least right now, I get to be here with you. Being with you feels like I’m at home. You do that for me.” I gently kiss her hand.

  “I’m glad you’re here with me, sweetheart. Even if we can only be together in secret, our time together is special to me.”

  “I feel the same way. Don’t they have a saying in America for this? Live in the moment?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I guess so, but I think we’re taking it to extremes,” I say ruefully. “Although it does feel really good.”

  “It does,” she says softly before lifting those trusting brown eyes to mine. “Chris, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, sweetheart.”

  “Well, I guess, what happened between you and your ex-wife? You know, Jenny’s mom?”

  I sigh heavily as I stare up at the ceiling. “I thought I loved her, and I thought she loved me. The truth is, I don’t think she ever loved me or Jenny, but I tried to make things work for my daughter’s sake. I didn’t want Jenny growing up without both parents, but no matter how hard I tried, her mother wasn’t happy. I know this sounds like mumbo-jumbo, but it really is what happened.” Saying those w
ords isn’t painful, though. In fact, it feels like a dam has burst, and I’m relieved to finally speak the truth. My ex didn’t want me or my daughter, and as awful as it is, we have to live with that reality.

  “Do you still speak to her?” Marie asks softly.

  “No, we don’t speak at all. She barely reaches out to Jenny; they probably only see each other once every few years. Sad, huh? Since my divorce, I’ve dated numerous women, but no one seemed to stick.” I turn toward her and grab her hand. “Until now, that is. Sweetheart, you’re really special.”

  “I know. I feel it too, Chris,” she says softly. I run my fingers through her curls, and the moonlight illuminates her curvy silhouette. “Your touch gives me butterflies,” she admits, nestling her body against mine. Uh-oh, too close. Her thick thighs press against my cock, and I run my hand along her tummy, lifting up her shirt. I squeeze a handful of her ass as I kiss her. But Marie’s into it. Moving sinuously, she climbs on top of me and takes her shirt off, revealing those huge, succulent tits. Unable to resist, I rub her nipples, watching with delight as they lengthen and harden. Marie throws her head back, revealing the smooth column of her throat.

  “Oui,” she cries softly. “Just like that!”

  But rubbing her nipples isn’t the only thing I want to do. Taking control, I flip her over onto the bed face down with her ass up. Lowering my head, I pull her folds apart and just look for a moment at the swollen pink of her pussy, wet and gleaming. God, she’s so beautiful. Unable to resist, I suck on her clit from behind. Her sexy moans make my dick harder.

  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, sweetheart? You like Daddy’s mouth on your pretty cunt.”

  Without waiting for a reply, I slide two of my fingers inside of her warm, wet pussy. But I want more this time. Ever so gently, I trace her back pucker with my thumb before pressing against those sensitive pleats. Her eyes fly open.