Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 253 -

*Giovani*

Fanculo alla mia vita! Fuck my life.

The beautiful girl I'd tried to avoid all day was wandering aimlessly through the house in the middle of the night in just a pair of silk shorts and a tank top. Was she trying to kill me? Tentatrice. Temptress. Seeing her walking so aimlessly and innocently, my dick was already growing in my pants. But there was no chance for me to do anything about it. She'd spotted me. "Buonasera, beautiful Olivia," I called to her and she smiled brightly at me.

Fuck if her smile wasn't brighter than La Festa Italiana. She was a radiant specimen, sent to punish me with her unreachable beauty. What was I supposed to do with this beautiful creature? "Is there something you need?" I asked, causing her to blush. I wondered briefly if she was thinking the same thing I was. What we both needed was a good, hot fuck.

But she barely knew me, and she was Dahlia's best friend. I wouldn't disrespect my cousin orh er friend that way.

"I just couldn't sleep," she answered sweetly, looking down at her bare feet.

"What a coincidence," I told her. "Neither could I."

How could I, knowing this creature was in my home? I'd tossed and turned all night, trying to vanquish the thoughts of her writhing underneath me.

"Can I get you coffee? Tea? Water? Whiskey?" I asked, wanting to make her laugh. If her smile could illuminate the house, I was dying to hear what magic her laughter could unleash. Unfortunately, it had the side effect of making my pants much tighter.

"Tea would be great," she told me, and I held out my hand, directing her down the hallway and through the house. She followed behind me quietly, but I was aware of her presence every step of the way. It was like she was charged and there was electricity flowing from her and through me.

Ridicolo, I chastised myself. She was just a young girl. She had no power over me. This was my house, my city. My brain was just muddled by lust. Tea would help clear it up.

When we got to the kitchen, she immediately took a seat on one of the counter stools, and I could feel her watching me. Did she like what she saw, or was I just some old man to her-her best friend's older cousin living in the villa, her guardian while she was here?

I looked through our pantry until I found the loose tea leaves and packed the strainer. I grabbed a tea kettle and filled it from the tap, then turned on the gas stove and set the kettle over the flame. I added the tea and let it come to a boil. When I looked behind me, I could see Olivia staring at me in wide-eyed amazement.

"Something wrong?" I asked her.

She shook her head and quickly shut her mouth. "Everything here is just a little different than I'm used to."

"Bad different?" I wondered aloud, causing her to shake her head and a look of horror to mar her beautiful face.

"Not at all!" she amended. "Tea is just a little more complicated than how I do it at home. But it's not bad at all. Just..." "Different," I finished for her, chuckling.

I considered her words, and wondered what else was different here than at her home. Were the men different too? "Tell me about home," I said. "Why did you want to leave?"

She shrugged and looked down at her hands. "Dahlia and I have been talking about this since we were kids. The first time she came here and could actually remember it, she told me what a magical place it was, and we'd pretend we were princesses and this was a castle. I couldn't wait to see it for myself."

I smiled, thinking of her dreaming about this place as if it were from a fairytale. The city had a certain magic, but it was hard to be enchanted by it when it was all I knew. I loved getting a glimpse of it through her eyes.

The tea kettle whistled, and I turned back to the stove, busying myself with getting us each a mug and pouring the hot liquid inside. I asked her how she took her tea and was surprised to learn she liked honey and milk. From what I knew of American girls, they usually took it black with sugar. Dahlia didn't even like tea, unlike her mother. Becca had always been a tea drinker.

I handed her the mug, and our fingers brushed, just briefly. I could feel the air in the room being vacuumed out, my head growing fuzzy. I had to suck in a breath and ask her if she missed her home just to get my mind off the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"I guess when you grow up believing in a fairytale, you can't stop yourself from chasing after it. There's nothing wrong with my home, but I grew up wanting more, and I finally have a chance to go after it."

She was brave and wise, I realized. She saw what she wanted and went after it, even though it was probably way out of her comfort zone. Not many people would pack up their lives and move to a different country at her age. I didn't know if I ever would have done it.

"So if you're a princess, what are you looking for in a prince?" I didn't know why I was asking her such a silly question, but I was compelled to know what she wanted. Perhaps if she said she wanted someone her age, I'd know for sure that I needed to readjust my thoughts.

On the other hand....

She blushed and took a long sip of her tea, trying to hide that it was too hot. But she couldn't hide the smallest change in expression in her face. I was mesmerized by it, unable to focus on anything else. The world wouldn't be able to spin again until she told me what she was looking for.

"I guess I want someone who has their shit together," she finally managed. "Someone who has a clear picture of his future and is willing to work hard for it."

"And college boys will do that for you, eh?" I felt like a stupido for asking, but I couldn't help myself. The air hummed around me, it's particles pushing me closer to her.

She looked up at me with big, open eyes, meeting my challenge.

"Maybe," she answered. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

She took another sip of her tea, her lips curving around the rim of the mug, and my dick twitched again. Though there was a counter between us. We were both leaning toward each other, the air between us palpable. It would take nothing at all for me to walk around the counter and pull her against me.

I shook my head, unwilling to give in to those thoughts. I needed to change gears fast or I would be taking the young girl on top of the counter.

"How did you and Dahlia meet?" I asked, bringing us into safer waters.

She nodded and smiled, clearly recalling how their friendship began.

"My mom cleans for your cousin, James," she told me honestly. "She couldn't afford childcare, so he told her to bring me along. Dahlia and I have basically known each other since we were in diapers."

That helped calm my thoughts. If I could remember how young she was and how close to my cousins she was, it would feel like a cold shower. I swallowed deeply, letting the information wash over me.

"And she's your best friend?" I clarified. "I suppose you wouldn't travel to a different country unless you were very close."

"We've always been a two-for-one deal," she confirmed. "In school, everyone knew that if you invited one of us, we'd both come."

"Did you two ever fight?" I wondered aloud, knowing how fiery Dahlia could be.

She threw her head back to laugh, and the sound overtook my senses. All that existed was her laughter. "We fight all the time," she finally breathed out. "You may know that Dahlia likes to get her way. Well, so do I," she smiled slyly. Again, I couldn't help but wonder if there was deeper meaning behind her words. Was I something she wanted to get? Christ, devi rimetteri in sesto. I needed to get my shit together.

I realized she was done with her tea and asked her if she wanted to go to sleep. She smiled shyly and asked if she could have another mug. I happily obliged, pouring more into my mug as well. She wanted to be in my presence, that much was clear. I could work with that.

Eventually, we moved into the smaller living room next to the kitchen, sitting in two overstuffed armchairs and talking until the early morning hours. My voice grew hoarse from talking and laughing with her so much, but I couldn't bring myself to bring the evening to a close. When weak light started trickling through the window, I knew I should probably insist we go to bed-separately, unfortunately.

"Merda," I cursed. "It's five in the morning, I should try to at least get a little sleep."

She looked at the window in surprise, clearly as perplexed as I was at how fast our time together had gone by. We could've talked for hours more. She let out a long yawn, though, and I knew she needed rest as badly as I did.

I collected our mugs and deposited them in the sink. One of the maids could wash them later. I led her back to her room, not because she needed the help, but because I would physically have to drag myself away from her when the time came. I wanted to prolong the experience.

When we reached her room, she looked up at me, smiling brightly.

"It was nice speaking with you," she said sweetly.

"The pleasure was all mine," I responded in a low, silky voice. "If you ever have trouble replaceing sleep again, I'll be happy to assist you."

I'd let her work out the double meaning of those words alone.