Page 66 of My Best Friend's Dad

“You should punish me by tearing off my skirt, removing my heels, snapping that little string down there, and smacking me around with your juicy hotdog.”

He slams his hand up to cover his mouth, but the laughter escapes anyway. “That’s ten out of ten disgusting.”

“I give it a hundred out of ten gross. But seriously, if you don’t get my clothes off and appreciate this outfit within two seconds, I’m going to implode.”

He slips my black heels off and has the presence of mind to rub his hand along my sore feet. Heels are always killer, no matter how used to them I am. His hand travels up my shin, my knee, and my thigh until he grasps the micro little skirt and guides it down and off.

I lean back on the car hood and tilt my legs to the side so he can see the whole outfit. I go for sexy, but I probably just look more like someone trying to find a comfortable spot on hard metal so it won’t grind and bruise the tailbone.

His eyes light up in appreciation anyway. “Fuck, yes, you’re so beautiful. That thing looks sci-fi.”

“Itfeelssci-fi. It’s trying to edge its way to new dimensions.”

“Should I peel it away?” he rasps.

“Or snap it. I don’t care,” I mutter.

I definitely need to invest in more of these things, if just for the very second that Rowleigh takes the little string in both hands and protects my skin from the burn while he snaps it clean inhalf. I forget all about how the car is eating my spine or how my spine is eating the car.

He covers me with his huge body, slips his hand under my hips to protect me from the metal beneath, and kisses me. He’s gentle and soft but still just as hot and hungry. He angles his mouth to do incredible things with his lips and tongue.

Five days was way too long.

I never want to not see him for five days again.

I love the way his beard no longer rasps against my face. It’s soft now and just tickles.

I love how his body presses me into the car, but just enough that it doesn’t hurt. He’s so big but so in control of it. The heat of him radiates straight into me, so the cold of being underground doesn’t creep into my skin. His cock is trapped between us, and he’s wearing far, far too many clothes.

“Shirts suck,” I inform him before grasping the hem and pulling it out of his pants. I do a number on the buttons, half wrenching them out of the holes, half working them free with desperate fingers. “Belts and pants suck too.” I undo the buckle, wrenching the belt so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break clean in half. His pants give easily, with far less trouble than jeans.

If I could see myself, disheveled, panting, my nipples straining against the thin black shiny fabric that still covers them, curling up on this car hood and mad for him, I’d probably think I resemble a wild animal and not a human woman at all. His burning eyes let me know just how much he likes the feral side of me.

A side I didn’t even know existed until him.

I have lots of those sides. So many feelings and thoughts and emotions that I never knew were there until Rowleigh.

The way he’s looking at me? It’s like I’m the sexiest person alive. I reverse card that straight back at him. He’s so far from abeast, but if he were a beast, he’d be the sexiest beast. Definitely the hottest man and hottest dad. I still remember how shocked I was to find out that Mika’s dad wasn’t the silver fox I pictured. But when he gets there, he’ll be the foxiest of silver foxes to have ever been silver foxed.

I don’t stop until I have his pants and boxers stripped down enough to take his hard, hot cock in my hand. I’ll never get enough of touching him. I want to get down on my knees and taste him, but the way he groans and thrusts into my tightly curled hand, trying to guide himself into me, says he’s too worked up and desperate right now.

Honestly? Same.

He devours my mouth while I hold his cock in my hand. He’s tall enough that he can do that and not cause himself pain because he has to contort to do it.

I guide him to me, but he’s there too, hard and hot above me, pulsing and wet in my hand. All of me aches for him. I didn’t understand the true definition of empty until him, and I mean that in so many ways.

Although, at the moment, I mean it in one major way.

“Bellatrix…” His deep, roaring purr of my name raises goosebumps all over me. He makes a song of it, his voice the magical instrument. “There isn’t a second of the day that I haven’t thought about you since I met you.”

“How many times have you thought about me in the shower?” My hand tightens around his dick.

“Many, many times, but I’ve never…I…not doing that. I haven’t done that at all since we met. It felt wrong to use you as the inspiration even though you were starring in all my fantasies. It felt disrespectful.”

“Well, you can use me as inspiration now. I’d really like it if you think about me when you touch yourself. I’d like to watch you touch yourself. That would be incredibly hot.”

“Okay, but can I be inside you right now?”