Daddy's Naughty Girl

“Lia...” he swallows hard, looking anywhere else but my face. I detect the stern warning in his tone, but I pay it no mind. “W-What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing, hm?” I hum, grunting as I successfully take his tie off, then bat my lashes as I trail the silk down between my breasts, finally, finally getting his eyes there. I feel the heat emanating off him, a muscle jumping in his cheek when I arch my back a little. “I'm just having fun, Daddy,” I whisper seductively, dropping the tie and flattening my palm, riding it up the front of his perfumed, well-pressed suit. “You work so hard. You should burn steam sometimes. It'll be good for your health...make you less grumpy.”

To God, I'm not lying. At all.

Tristan spends six out of the seven days of the week working his arse off. The last day, Sunday, he spends it with Eric — and it's for a few hours only. Afterwards, he locks himself in his private office for the rest of the day, while Eric is left with no option than to invite me over for a sleepover.

I'm truly worried about his stress level. I'm worried that when, eventually, he's ready to lay back and have fun it'll be too late then. It's not an excuse for me to get closer, I promise.

He has always been a constant in my life since he moved in right next to us. His son is my best friend — one I'm so thankful for, and I care about the both of them even more than my own father. I see them as my one, true family.

“I'm not grumpy, Lia. And I'm fine. I really am,” he exhales, his jaw still clenched. “You shouldn't be standing so close to me...” his gaze falls to my hand on his chest. “And your hands...they shouldn't — ”

He trails off with a groan when I pop the first button open, the sight of his bare, muscled chest making heat pool in between my legs. “Oops,” I say, blinking innocently. “Bet you feel relieved. How do you breathe in this shirt? It's so tight. Too fitting. Too...perfect, even though I'm sure you'll look twice hotter wearing a T-shirt instead.”

“You should stop this at once. Why do you always wear revealing clothes? Don't you have a skirt that covers your pert, little teenage arse? You're still a child, Lia.” The question comes out rushed. He turns away, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You know what? Forget about whatever I just said. I shouldn't have asked you that. What you choose to wear doesn't concern me.”

I can hardly think straight. This is...this is more than I ever asked for. “Oh my God. You...notice. You do notice what I wear.” My joy is inexplicable, I feel like screaming. “The way you act sometimes — ”

“We shouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. It's so goddamn inappropriate,” he buttons his shirt back and folds his big arms over his chest. “Now go back to Eric. In here, nothing ever happened. We never spoke about this. Understand?”

Knowing that I'll never have an opportunity as good as this for at least a long while, I defy his words, sticking my tongue out as I hop onto the counter, dragging my arse backwards, excited beyond words when Tristan's eyes follow the movement of my bouncing breasts, his throat bobbing, working in an awkward pattern when I inch my legs open just a little. Just a tease. Enough so he can catch a glimpse at least of my white-laced thong. “Eric is probably engrossed in his video games and wouldn't need me there to distract him. Besides, I'm having way more fun with you here.” I lean back on my hands and proceed to shift my right knee side to side, hiding my panties from him, showing them, hiding. “Chill out, Big Daddy. Relax those nerves. Have fun with me.”

“No. This...this is madness.”

We both look down at the same time, at his bulging crotch, then back up at each other. I smirk victoriously.

He's such a terrible liar.

“It's not...this doesn't mean...fuck...” He drags a palm down his face and shoves my legs together with lukewarm determination, his touch blowing up my circuits, shooting electricity through my body. “I haven't been with a woman ever since Sherry died. It's been decades, and you can't judge me. I mean, it's a normal reaction to be easily...”

“Tested? I'm tempting you, am I right?” I lean forward, taking the lapels of his shirt in my hands, pulling him closer despite his reluctance. Despite the way he stares at me with that helpless, sexy gaze. Despite the way my name leaves his throat as as a low growl. A warning. I settle my mouth over the top of his hard lips, my eyes shut. Inhaling, exhaling, inhaling. Feels so perfect. “You want me, don't you? You don't even have to say it. I can feel it. Feel the way your cock aches for me. Stop torturing yourself, Big Daddy.”

He shakes his head, but those lips come back to mine, not kissing me alright, but fueling my hope nonetheless. “You're my son's best friend, Lia. Less than half of my age. I run with your father most evenings. Fuck, I'm practically like a father to you.” Too quickly, he squeezes my knees, letting his fingers brush along my sensitive insides. Slightly higher to my higher thighs. With a breathless curse, he whirls around roughly, taking out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbing his forehead with it. “I don't know what this is. I don't know what it is you're trying to do, but it ends now, little girl. You go for people your age. I don't mind if you date Eric.”

I should be annoyed. I should be disappointed, but instead his words only make me more determined. Make me stubborn.

He came clean. Admitted that he notices me. Notices my body. He lets our mouths touch. Stroked my thighs. Things might have gone further, if he could just stop holding himself back. I'm almost trembling with happiness at this development. If I knew he'd be this responsive earlier, I could've pushed him sooner. If I'd been this brave from the beginning, I could've broken him a lot earlier. The man I burned for, love so fiercely, is turned on. He's attracted.

But also, he's thrown up a startling fifty-foot wall between us.

I'm more than happy to climb it this time. To show him I'm more than the little, horny girl he thinks I am. To show him how much I love him. How much I'm willing to be devoted.