Sinful Addiction

DIANE

HOLY SHIT! My father's best friend had his face buried in between my legs.

I threw my head back against the headrest, fisting his hair in my palms but it only urged him to go faster.

His breath was warm against my clit and just when I thought I couldn't get enough, he hummed, the vibration sending intense waves of pleasure through me.

"Oh my God," this was so wrong yet my body betrayed me, leaning closer into his touch.

I felt the feeling build up within me and just when I got at the edge of my release, a loud ringing jolted me up.

My eyes snapped open as the annoying sound of my alarm persisted.

The rays of the sunlight peeping in through the window came first, illuminating the room. I tried to calm my breathing down.

"Not again!" I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. These same dreams had tormented my nights for the past four years.

His arms around me, his tongue dragging me to ecstacy beyond my imagination. This was forbidden and I knew it deep within my soul.

He was my father's best friend and like a second father to me, never missing any of my school games back in high-school and being so caring and protective about me so why the hell did I keep thinking of him this way.

He was the reason I left New York to Paris for college. It started off as a fatherly attraction for me but I didn't know when it became something more. Something dangerous. Something off limits.

I thought I could suppress whatever it was going on with me but for the past four years, I'd failed terribly at that.

I pulled off the duvet that covered the lower part of my body, swinging my legs off the bed. The ache in between my legs were too much and too intense to ignore.

I dismissed the alarm on the bedside table and headed into the bathroom. I caught my reflection in the mirror, my blonde hair was disheveled, the bangs almost covering my eyes.

Mascara was smudged on my eyelids with lipstick smeared across my cheeks. I looked like I was run over by a truck.

Well that's what I get from partying all night with my friends. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the party type but last night was an exception. It was the last party after our final exams and truth be told, Isabella, my friend practically had to drag my ass out of my room amidst all my protests.

Was I glad to be done with college? Hell yes! It was a really fun ride but I'm glad it's over.

I pulled out some wipes and began cleaning the makeup from my face, trying to make myself less terrifying.

After wiping as much as I could, I turned on the faucet, bending my head as I splashed cold water on my face.

His dark hair, his well groomed beards and above all, his perfectly chiseled torso flashed in my mind as the water hit my face.

It's been a few years since I last saw him but I still remembered every little detail about him. The little scar that cut across his left brow, the birthmark just above his collarbone, his scent of sandalwood mixed with birch tar. Every single thing.

It was like they were embedded forever in my memory and no matter how much I willed to forget, I just couldn't.

The last I saw him was three years ago in a photo my dad sent me during the funeral of his wife. He looked sleep deprived and in mourning but forgive me Lord, he looked like sin in flesh notwithstanding his state.

He was a widower at forty-six. His wife, Emilia had been suffering from cancer for the past nine years before she finally gave up.

"God rest her soul," I muttered, doing the sign of the cross as I said a little prayer for the peaceful repose of her soul.

I felt really bad for him and at myself for feeling this way about him but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't.

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts.

I rushed back to the room, my feet bare against the cold tiles, grabbing a towel on my way out and dabbing the water off my face.

A smile made its way to my lips as the name 'Dad' flashed across my screen.

I swiped to answer the call and put it on speaker. "Hi, dad," my tone was chirpy.

"You don't call your old man anymore huh?" His voice rang from the other end in a playful and teasing tone.

"Oh stop being so dramatic dad," I laughed. "I called you yesterday."

"That was yesterday. It's a new day. How's my little girl doing?"

"I'm not so little anymore, you know, I'm twenty-four," I smiled and began unbuttoning my shirt. I needed a shower.

"No matter how old you get you'll always be my little girl."

I shook my head, a slight chuckle escaping my lips. He has been calling me his little girl since the moment I was born and the nickname has stuck for years and I doubt he plans on stopping that anytime soon.

"Alright dad. How are you?"

"Fine fine," he said, then I heard a loud gulp from the other end of the phone and I knew he was taking his morning coffee.

"Coffee again?"

"Mhmm," he hummed.

"You should really cut down on the quantity of caffeine you take in these days dad," I warned.

His deep laugh resonated through the speakers. "Alright mum," he teased and I just shook my head at him although he couldn't see me.

"Book your flight yet?" He asked.

"Um yes," I said, scanning through my wardrobe for what to wear today.

"When are you coming in? Hope you'll be here in time for your old man's 50th birthday?"

"I won't miss it for anything in the world."

"That's my girl," he laughed, then coughed.

"Sorry dad."

He hummed and cleared his throat.

"I'll be coming in this weekend."

"Perfect. I'll send the driver to pick you up from the airport?"

"You don't have to stress about that, I can find my way back home."

"No you won't," he laughed. "You've been away for too long. The driver will pick you up once you land," he said, leaving no room for further argument.

"Alright. I'll keep you updated okay?"

"Sure. You make me so proud," my dad was never one to hide his feelings. Ever since mum died when I was fourteen leaving just the both of us, he has made sure and gone out of his way to ensure I lacked nothing. Not material things and not emotional support.

He even encourages me to talk to him about the guys I like. As if I'd ever do that. He'd have their heads on a platter. And even worse if he knows it's his best friend.

"Thank you dad."

"See you soon kiddo."

"See you soon dad," I said, already feeling nostalgic. I couldn't wait to go home.

The line went dead as he ended the call. I stood in the middle of the room in just my bra and panties, staring at the blank screen in my hands.

I'll be going back to New York in three days. I was both excited and scared. 'He' will be there. I haven't seen him in a long time and I don't know what to do, how to react or what to expect.

Damon. God, even his name made my pulse race.

I'd always kept my feelings a secret from him. It was a secret I swore I'd take to my grave but each waking day makes it so hard to do that.

I knew I was walking head on into a very dangerous game but what's the worst that could happen?

New York, here I come.