Daddy's 4 Dirty Friends - Page 15

SOPHIA

“Out?” I ask, looking between Nick and Gunner. Gunner looks way too sly for this to be true. “Out where?”

“We want to show you New York,” Nick says with a shrug.

“Not necessarily the New York your father approves of, but we feel bad that you’ve been cooped up here all week. You finally graduate, and then you’re thrown right into work without even a chance to celebrate?” Gunner shakes his head. “Not our style.”

“His style.” Nick corrects.

I laugh and nod. “Okay. Dress code?”

“We’re going to clubs, bars, and the town in general,” Gunner says with a wide smile.

Fuck, that makes me think of his fingers slipping under my skirt to tease my garter belt. The harsh bite of the material when he snapped it against my thigh versus his soft fingers drove me insane.

“Okay.” I nod.

After we eat, I go upstairs and change into a slinky black dress and black heels to match. I brush through my auburn hair, pin the top half back, then do my makeup. By the time I finish, I feel like a college kid again, much less professional, much more fun.

I grin as I meet the guys downstairs. Gunner has on jeans and a nice shirt, and Nick is still rocking slacks. Both of them look at me as if I’m all dressed up for prom or something. By the looks on both their faces, I’d say my entrance is playing in slow motion.

Then that sexy, playboy smirk turns up Gunner’s lips, and the moment is amped up times a hundred. Even Nick can’t drag his eyes from my legs. He swallows and looks away, phone in hand. “I got us an uber. More trustworthy than a taxi.”

“You know best,” I answer quickly.

And just like that, we’re swept up in the city. We bounce from club to club easily, without question, without knowing where we’re heading half the time. I laugh as Nick points out street performers and people who are already drunk enough to be using the alleyways as bathrooms or bedrooms.

“This is New York,” Gunner says, draping an arm over my shoulder as we walk to yet another club. I’ve had to limit myself to one drink each place just to avoid blending in a bit too much with the others around here. “Dirty, grimy, constantly questionable, and more fun than you could have in a week anywhere else.”

He gives me a lopsided smile. Nick rolls his eyes. “After this next place, we’re getting food!”

“I already had dinner.” I pout. “I like dancing. Why won’t you guys dance with me?”

They look at one another, a hard look, then Gunner’s fingers trail over my arm, pulling goosebumps from me despite the city heat. “I think that can be fixed, sweets.”

“Gunner.”

“Nick likes to dance too. But we’ll have to convince him to join.”

“Okay!”

The next club is loud, but at least I recognize the music. I head directly to the dance floor, dragging Gunner behind me. He twirls me in a circle, then pulls my hips back against his. He rolls and moves to the beat, one hand on my hips, the other in mine like he can keep me all to himself.

I wiggle my ass against him, following the beat and losing myself in how good his body feels against mine. His hands stroke down my sides, grazing the outsides of my breasts, sending shivers through me.

Nick joins in then, and I tug him closer by his tie. He holds my hip in one hand and leans towards me, cupping the back of my neck in his other hand. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah! I’m having fun!” I yell back.

I drop lower, knowing that my dress is probably barely covering my ass, but I don’t care, can’t care. Gunner leaves to get us drinks, and Nick shows off his dance moves. Unlike Gunner, he doesn’t just want my body against his. He twirls me, leads me in an actual dance, and makes my night all the better by showing me everything he’s capable of.

I can’t get enough. He spins me again, and I land against Gunner’s chest. He grins and puts a shot glass to my lips. I down the tequila and lick the salt off his hand. I look for the lime, and then he smiles wider, showing it between his teeth.

Lifting myself up on my toes, I pull it from his mouth, our lips barely brushing. I suck the lime and hand it back to Gunner. “Thank you.”

He tosses it to the side, takes my hand, and twirls me, so my back is to him again. He holds my hands as we dance, moving our hips, feet, and whole body to the rhythm. After more than a few songs, Nick says something in Gunner’s ear, and we head out to the street again.

Compared to the club, it’s freezing outside. There aren’t warm bodies pulsing, lights, heavy music. I almost feel deaf, but my skin hums with life, and I feel like I can’t get my heart to slow down.

“Wow!”

“Easy.” Nick chuckles, taking my hand. “I think you’ve been in there a little too long.”

“Am I shouting? I feel like I’m shouting!”

Nick winces, but Gunner grins. “Nah, you’re whispering.”

I elbow him, and he chuckles. He rubs down my spine over and over. Between the two of them, I feel invincible, safe, appreciated. We grab some food at a hole in the wall, then we walk along the street until we get to a bench. I see Nick pull out his phone and turn my pout on Gunner.

“Are we going home already?”

“Considering it’s after midnight, I think it’s time.” He pinches my cheek. “Don’t give me that pout.”

“Or what.”

His eyes flash slightly. “At least you’re not challenging Roman.”

“Oh? Why’s that? Are you going to do something about it?”

“Cut you off for one,” Gunner says, then glances over my shoulder to where Nick is working on his phone. I can tell he’s frustrated but can’t tell why.

I lean my head to the side, then lean towards him, resting a hand on his thigh. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Sophie. It’s called control. I’m trying to have some.”

“Have some for me too, then.”

“You’re going to be hungover tomorrow.” He teases, gently tapping my nose. “How drunk are you?”

“Not drunk enough to not remember.” I shrug. “But drunk enough to be fun!”

Gunner rolls his eyes, but I prove it in the back seat of the Uber. We’re all stuffed in the back, which means I’m in the middle, and just because we’re not in a club doesn’t mean I can’t dance. Gunner laughs and encourages me, and I even see a smile on Nick’s face as we head home.

Nick thanks the guy who drove us while Gunner has me hop on his back as if I’m a kid. I lock my legs around his waist, and he groans softly. I kiss his ear. “I’d rather have my legs around you in a different way.”

“Sophie.” He warns.

Nick glances back at us, then shrugs. He bids us a good night, saying old men have to get rest and that Gunner should go to bed too. I expect to see my dad somewhere, but he’s completely missing.

Gunner drops me off at the couch closest to my room, then turns, climbs on top of me, and holds my face between his hands. “So how do you want to wrap your legs around me, sweets? I need a demonstration.”

I groan and grab his shirt, pulling him close, but Gunner doesn’t kiss me. He smirks instead. I tug him again, and he arches his eyebrow. “I like when you talk dirty.”

“I can do better things with my mouth if you let me,” I whisper.

That does him in. He kisses me hard, stroking down my body as he devours my mouth. I wrap my legs around his hips, locking my ankles behind him so I can feel every amazing rub of his hardness between my legs. Gunner fists my hair while his other hand pushes my dress up so he can grab my ass.

“Please tell me you have underwear on.” He groans before biting my earlobe.

I don’t know if it’s his husky voice, the mix of pleasure and pain, or the alcohol, but I’m wet, wishing I wasn’t wearing underwear and definitely wanting him deep inside me. I catch his eyes and tell him. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Gunner groans and palms my bare ass cheek again, his mouth brushing my collarbone. God, I bet he could make me feel amazing. But he’s clearly holding back. I take an unsteady breath. “I think you’d do more for me than those long showers I take.”

His eyes lift to mine, and he devours my mouth again, almost punishing me with the force he uses. His other hand cups my breast, squeezing as his tongue explores my mouth with sure strokes. My body trembles for him, and I arch into his touch. I want to beg him to slide his fingers into my thong and find out how wet I am.

But before I can get the word out, I hear a door slam somewhere. Gunner jumps back, pushes his hair into place, and exhales while looking me over. My dress is bunched up at my hips, showing my little black thong and not hiding anything else.

At least he can’t see how wet I am just from making out and dancing. He jerks his chin towards my room. “I bet it’s your father.”

But what if it’s not? What if it’s Roman or Holden or Nick, and what if they’d want to touch me too? Two sets of hands on me, stroking me, pleasing me. Or three … could all four of them touch me at once? And would I be able to get through that without spontaneously combusting?

“Sophie. Go.” Gunner insists.

I nod. He wouldn’t tell me to leave if it was just one of the guys. Hell, he was grabbing my ass and grinding against me with Nick, so it must be my dad, or probably my dad. I only get halfway up the stairs before I see him.

He looks exhausted, bags under his eyes, pale. I pause, and he smiles at me. “Sophie. You look beautiful. Did you go out tonight?”

“Yeah! I took your advice and checked out some of New York.”

“The clubbing part?” He asks, then looks at Gunner, arching an eyebrow. “Did you let her drink?”

“I encouraged it.” Gunner replies. “Nick and I kept her safe.”

Dad nods, but his eyes flash dangerously. “Not all of New York is nice, honey.”

“There’s always bad places in the world, Dad,” I whisper. “I’m okay, don’t be mad. And get some sleep, please? I’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

His face softens, and he nods. He smiles. “I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

I duck into my room before the mix of emotions can drown me. I was just making out with one of Dad’s best friends wanting him to touch me and fuck me right there. The same man who sat there and heard how much my dad loves me and wants to protect me.

Is this wrong?

Or is it just … complicated. Because complicated I can work with, but wrong … taking advantage of my dad or his house or his kindness seems like too much. Not that I’m able to control myself with or without alcohol, apparently.

I take a slow breath. Sober me can decide what to do while drunk me takes advantage of that massaging showerhead and the privacy of an attached bath.

As soon as I turn the water on, I glance over my shoulder, almost sure that Gunner has followed me in to prove he can give a better orgasm.

But my room is empty, and once I lock the bathroom door, I lose myself in fantasies that don’t have a single stitch of guilt laced in.

Tags: Barbi Cox Erotic
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