Inked By My Best Friend's Dad

But Abby only shrugs.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, looking guilty like all this is her fault somehow.

Which it isn’t.

“Hey,” I tell her, taking her in my arms like we’ve been this close for years not hours.

I feel her body start to shake with a sob, all her feelings about Tasha and their fight bubbling to the surface.

All the things Tasha said too.

I get it out of her, and as much as I need to go find my daughter, I need to make sure Abby’s okay too.

“Did you call her?” Abby asks, and she looks more than worried when I say I tried but got no answer.

“She might just be out of range,” I remark, trying not to let my worry take over.

Tasha is twenty-one and can look after herself. It’s not just her old man’s height she inherited. I taught her how to kick anyone’s ass too and I know she could if she had to. But it doesn’t make me worry any less, especially when I see the look in Abby’s eyes.

“It’s all my fault,” she says, voicing guilt that makes no sense.

“It’s nobody’s fault, and I know she’ll be fine,” I tell us both, holding Abby closer. Glad she’s in my arms and so concerned for her best friend, even if they did fight.

“You feel so good,” I growl, unable to stop what I’ve waited all night to tell her.

To do to her.

“Wait,” Abby says, breaking free of my arms and skipping to her room and back.

I figure I’m going too fast for her, but she has her phone in her hand, tapping out a message.

I must look like an idiot, standing in her living room at full attention.

But once I see the look of relief on her face, I know we’re good.

“What is it?” I have to ask her, feeling her soft body snuggling into mine as I take in the scent of her hair.

“You’re right. She’s fine… I sent her a message. She won’t answer but at least I can tell she saw it,” she explains.

“How do you know it’s her?” I ask, naturally suspicious, but I have to agree with Abby when she answers.

“I just know. Trust me if there’s one thing I know it’s that her phone goes where she goes. I’m her friend even if she is mad at me. She’s fine. Just upset.”

Amen to that.

And without a word between us, I kneel between her legs and stamp my mouth back on hers.

She mews, and I can feel her body tremble as my hands slide up her thighs, prying her legs open wider.

I can feel the heat from her sex radiating against my dick, eager to join with her as soon as possible.

“Tell me you want this Abby,” I demand, taking one of her hands and placing it on my throbbing member.

The whole front of my jeans is a massive bugle with my arousal.

She nods her head eagerly, her eyes getting a dreamy look before she closes them, letting her head roll back when my hands' edge closer to her mound.

My hands, my whole body against her makes her seem tiny, but at the same time I know we’re a good fit. We were meant to be.

I don’t need a skin and bones girl. I need someone who can take all I have to give.

A smooth ride, as well as a rough one.

And I know my girl can take it with her thick waist and wide hips made for my hands.

My left hand disappears under her top and we both moan in pleasure as I grip her breast, but her eyes snap open. As if she’s just remembered something.

“I… I—” she stammers, but I silence her with a kiss.

I glide my thumb over her core, feeling her heat through the thin fabric of her sweats.

“Slade, I—” she tries again, but it’s too late for words.

I’m done talking.

Now I want to unwrap my present, even though technically it’s a day late.

Abby’s mouth makes a perfect ‘O’ as I discover just how wet she is, slipping my fingers underneath her sweats.

Finding the hot and wet, tight little pussy that quivers instantly at my touch.

I growl with satisfaction, holding her gaze until her eyes flutter closed again, her hips lifting automatically so I can slide her out of her pants and panties, and onto my tongue.

I take a moment to appreciate her smooth, milky skin. The small tuft of hair over her sex exactly as I pictured it, her body shivering like a leaf in an invisible wind once her arousal sets its course for the inevitable.

Without me even having to say so or help her, she’s taken off her sweater too.

Naked in moments, and beyond compare.

She really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes or hands on.

And my hands, as big as they are, don’t seem to be enough to take as much of her in as I’d like.