Page 19 of Daddy's Dirty Little Secret

My heart beat faster as Xander’s hot breath tickled my sensitive folds. He reached for his nightstand, stubble grinding on my core, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. I knew what he intended, but it didn’t prepare me for the feeling when the liquid made contact with my already sensitive flesh. It burned slightly, then cooled, and his tongue lapped at it and sucked me.

“Xander,” I whimpered as he started to lick, his chin damp against my pussy, his tongue circling my swollen clit. My hips rocked back and forth, seeking more contact, more friction. A moan escaped me as I felt him slide a finger inside me, then another, and I was so close already before he poured more of the fiery liquid across my mound.

“Mmm, messy and delicious,” he growled, and I began to shudder.

He continued to tease me, his tongue flicking at my core, licking up the alcohol, until I was arching off the bed, clawingat the sheets as my orgasm crashed through me. I jolted and shook, squeezing his head between my thighs, and he growled in pleasure as my hips arching off the bed took him for a ride.

His aggressiveness only made me want him more, and as soon as my trembles subsided, I pulled his hair, urging him closer to me. I wanted the taste of my juices on his mouth, the flavor of the whiskey to drink down. He obliged, his lips crashing against mine hungrily, his tongue demanding entrance, and I gave it to him without hesitation. He was hard, throbbing against my thigh, and I reached down to guide him to my center.

I could feel every vein on his cock as I stroked down his shaft, aroused by my own wanton behavior. I’d never been this woman before, but with Xander, I felt like an animal. His eyes were dark with lust and need as he braced himself over me, our chests heaving in unison.

“Tell me you want it hard,” he growled, and I arched my hips against him in response, effectively silencing any words that might have come out. He growled again, this time with my moan of approval, and then he was inside me, thick and hot and oh so deep. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling myself closer, my nails sinking into his back as he thrust hard and fast.

“Like that, don’t you?” he gasped, his eyes locked onto mine, and I could only moan in response, my head thrown back against the pillow as he continued to pound into me relentlessly. I scratched against his back harder, my nail digging into the sweat-slicked skin as my orgasm built again.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he slammed into me even harder. I clenched around him, hoping to increase his pleasure, and he gritted his teeth before crushing his lips against mine again. My coil was tight, and my body was ready to tip over the edge. The way his dick stroked my insides was electric.

“Come for me, Amelia,” he growled into my ear, and lost to the ecstasy of the moment, I obeyed him.

My body contracted around him, hands clawing at his sides, and I felt him flood me, cock pulsing against my convulsions. He bit down on my shoulder and groaned out my name, his hips still jerking against mine.

As our breathing returned to normal, he collapsed on top of me, hands planted on either side of my shoulders as he panted. I could feel his dick still inside me, softening but not yet ready to fully withdraw. “That was…” he trailed off, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t yet decipher. Afraid of the answer, I bit my lower lip and averted my gaze.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. He had no clue what that was to me, but I couldn’t tell him.

Xander rolled to the side, sprawled out on the comforter. The sex drained from my body, mingling with the whiskey spilled on the bed, and I wondered what I was supposed to do now. The stress was slowly evaporating, just like it was supposed to, but my heart ached to be held. I turned on my side, ready to get up and get dressed when Xander took my wrist.

“So you had a bad day? What happened? Why the booty call?”

I lingered, legs draped over the side of the bed with my back to him. “No one says booty call anymore.” I chuckled and he groaned.

“And people really say M4S? It was always a hookup to me.”

I sighed again, feeling the weight creeping back into my shoulders. “Dad’s house got broken into so he needs a place to stay until the crew fixes the front door. It’s stressful having him around.” My white lie allowed some of the steam to vent off of me, but I didn’t want Xander fully involved. Dad would be angry if I told Xander the whole story, and I didn’t want a pity party.

“Wow, yeah. I’m sorry. Does he need help?”

“Christ no,” I hissed, turning over my shoulder. “You can’t tell him I told you. He’s…prideful.” I winced as I accused my very vulnerable father of something he most certainly was. But it was a family thing. Still, Xander was his close friend, and I appreciated that he wanted to help if need be. “Thanks though.”

“Yeah, well, thank you. I needed that.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, but I sat there feeling like a lump. When he opened his eyes he reached out to touch my thigh. “It happens, Amelia. I’m sure the police will sort it out. Man, that guy has had a string of bad luck; first the car, now this.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, thinking about it with fear needling my conscience—that Dad might have gotten in with the wrong crowd—but I wouldn’t tell Xander that. God knows I’d never hear the end of it from Dad. “I should go…He’s going to expect me, and if I’m not on time, he’ll freak out.”

I stood to grab my clothing, now acutely aware that Xander had too many pairs of my panties stashed away somewhere. He watched as I dressed, lying on his side unashamed. When I finished buttoning up and found my shoes, I stood by the door, wondering if I was supposed to kiss him goodbye or how this worked.

“So, see you at work?” I asked, now feeling awkward. If this was a real relationship, I’d stay. We’d hold each other. He’d make me breakfast in bed in the morning.

“Yeah, see ya.” He didn’t even get up. He just lay there watching me slink away with my hollow shell of a heart that was already regretting this decision. Godwin was wrong. NSA sex was not amazing; it was torture. I needed arms around me, not orgasms—though those were amazing.

I was a fool for thinking I could do this, but I didn’t want to back out now. And cut myself off from him entirely when I really liked him? No, I had to stay and let my dumb heart get attachedonly to be shredded later on. Which was what was going to happen.

On the drive home, between bouts of frustration and heaviness, I thought about what Xander said. I was sure the police would try to get to the bottom of things, but my gut told me there were things Dad wasn’t telling people. Things I needed to know. And if he wouldn’t talk about it, I had to look into it myself. The fool was too prideful to know his own limits, so someone had to watch out for him.

I just prayed it wasn’t something dangerous. Sometimes he made really bad decisions.

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