Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 256 -

*Olivia*

My heart pounded in my chest wildly, and my throat went dry. He was standing there in front of me, jaw slack, and I was in the bathtub, completely naked, covered only by a few bubbles. He said nothing, and I said nothing, unable to form a coherent sentence.

His eyes raked over my body, and I felt a heat that had nothing to do with the water. His lips turned into a small smile before he quickly turned away, apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry, Olivia," he said to the wall. "I was coming to check on you when I ran into Sarafina and saw she'd brought you food. I tried to knock, but you didn't answer. I thought something had happened."

I sprang into action, grabbing the towel I'd hung up by the tub and standing up, trying for a little decency at least. I was dripping wet, water droplets falling on the floor as I quickly wrapped the towel around myself, but I didn't miss the sideways glance Giovani shot me before I could fully cover myself.

He turned around, tray in hand, and I watched as he carefully placed the tray on a small table set up for toiletries. I carefully stepped out of the tub, but not carefully enough apparently because my foot slipped, and I dropped my towel in an effort to catch my balance.

Before I realized what was happening, Giovani had come to me, grabbing me by the bare waist. His eyes were wide, like he was worried I'd break. Under his touch, I probably would. I was so conscious of his hands on my hips and the fact that I was standing mere inches from him, completely nude.

The place where his skin met mine felt like electricity shooting through my whole body. It reminded me of my dream, and my breath became shallow, remembering the way he'd touched me in my dreams. The reality was better, but this was completely innocent. He'd just been trying to keep me from falling.

"Uhm," I stuttered out. "Thank you for helping me. I'm okay, really."

He stared down at me, not letting go of my waist. I looked into his eyes and realized it wasn't just concern for my safety. There was a fire in his eyes that told me he wanted to do much more than keep me upright.

I licked my lips slowly, and watched his eyes dart down to watch. He swallowed hard before leaning down and covering my lips with his own. His hands let go of my waist, only so they could wrap around it and pull me closer to him. Was this really happening? I wanted to pinch myself to make sure it wasn't another really good dream, but the heat of his body and the hardness I felt against me was enough to convince me. As real as my dream had felt, it didn't compare to the way his skin felt against mine, his arms cradled around my waist.

And I couldn't have imagined the pressure I felt as our bodies intertwined. My hands reached around his neck, my hands traveling into his hair. It was soft to the touch, like silk. His curls gave me something to hold onto, and I grabbed tightly, eliciting a groan from him.

His tongue slid along my bottom lip, expertly tracing its curve. My mouth opened for him in a sigh, ready to know his exquisite taste. He didn't taste like honey like he had in my dream. His mouth was smokey, like he's just finished an expensive cigar. I wanted to inhale him, for our breath to intertwine and become one.

We stood there for a long time, exploring one another, testing each other. It was like a game of cat and mouse, where his tongue was the cat, and mine was the mouse, chasing, teasing, twisting up in all sorts of trouble. I wanted all his trouble. I wanted him to show me everything, to corrupt me thoroughly.

Like my dream, I could feel wetness growing between my legs, and I needed the friction of him. As much as I pressed my hips against his, it wasn't enough to satisfy the craving that had been building inside of me since the moment he'd touched me. A strange thought occurred, and I carefully maneuvered one of my legs to wrap around his waist, the other straining on the ground on tiptoes.

The position was better, the friction where I needed it, but it was not enough. I gasped against him, and felt his hands move down my ass and cup the other leg, pulling it up against him so that I was fully wrapped around him, and he was supporting all my weight.

Underneath me, I could feel his hardness rubbing up against my bare flesh through his pants, and I ground into him, the feeling magical, releasing some primal need in me. He moaned into my mouth, holding me tightly as he began moving, carrying me into the bedroom. With my entire front pressed against him, I felt alive, set on fire by his touch in the best possible way.

I could feel him against every inch of me, and I could feel every inch of his manhood, and I wanted him more than I could ever possibly imagine. I wanted him to strip down to nothing and enter me.

But as good as my dream had been, reality came crashing down on me, reminding me I had no fucking clue what I was doing. All I knew was that it would hurt my first time, and I would feel vulnerable and emotional afterward.

I wasn't sure that was something I wanted to experience with him right this moment. I'd known him for the entirety of seventy-two hours, and I couldn't say for sure that I was ready to give myself away so easily. It killed me to think that, but as much as I wanted this, I had to press pause before it went too far.

And it was going too far at breakneck speed. We were in the bedroom, just inches from the bed, and then he was setting me down, hovering over me. He pulled away briefly, perhaps to get a condom from his wallet, or maybe just to readjust himself, but it was the moment I needed to get my head on straight and remember where I was.

Dahlia's room was just a few feet away. This was her family's home. Besides my fears about sex, this could potentially ruin our friendship forever. She meant too much to me for that to happen, especially if this was just a lust-filled fling, a one- night stand.

"We can't do this," I breathed out quickly, letting the words fall off my tongue before I could second-guess myself.

His guard went up immediately, the lust in his eyes replaced by a dead, cold look. He wasn't angry, exactly. He looked more cautious than anything. He took a step back from me, and I quickly pulled the sheets around me, covering myself against his scrutiny. How ironic that just an hour ago I'd been tangled up in these sheets, imagining a similar moment.

"I'm so sorry, beautiful Olivia," he said sadly. "I forget myself around you. I shouldn't have done that."

He took all the blame for this as if I hadn't been a willing participant. I shouldn't have done it either, as much as I desperately had wanted to. But this was much worse. He looked at me as if he were sorry he'd ever touched me, which hadn't been my intention at all. I didn't want him to regret it.

"Please let me know if there's anything I can get for you," he told me, making for the door. When he reached the frame, he turned back to look over your shoulder. "This is your home now. I want you to feel comfortable."

His voice was sweet and sorrowful, and I understood what he meant. He thought he'd made me uncomfortable, which was so not the case. Well, I was a little uncomfortable, but that had more to do with my unquenched need for him. Why couldn't I have said something wiser or more mature, to make him see that I wasn't ready?

Part of me knew it was because I was afraid he wouldn't want me if he knew how inexperienced I was. Another part of me felt guilty for betraying my best friend. She would be so mad if she knew what had taken place. After everything we'd been through together, I wasn't willing to give her up for some guy, some man-a very attractive man who kissed like a professional.

I shook my head and pulled my knees to my chest. I dropped my head and groaned in frustration. Now that Giovani was gone, I felt the loss of him. If I hadn't made him stop, he'd probably be inside of me, possessing me physically and mentally. Afterward, I'd eat the food he brought me, and we would talk more about our lives.

I felt like a fucking idiot. Everything was ruined.