Trapped with My Best Friend’s Dad by Flora Ferrari
Chapter Six
Roman
I lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, watching as the moonlight appears and disappears with the passing of the clouds. The night is quiet and cool, a chill in the air hinting that the weather might change. The forecast said there’s a chance a big storm might be heading our way, but it can’t compare to the storm raging through me, the thunder cracking deep inside of me every time I think about Rayla.
Earlier, I had to leave before I sank even deeper into the conversation – before the conversation became something else, morphed and my desire made itself known.
She looked so damn shy and alluring and beautiful and mine when she was talking about her desire to be an actress. She bit her lip and glanced down at the ground, only meeting my eye at short intervals, as though she could barely stand to be looked at when discussing her dreams.
That caused an inferno to blaze up inside of me, a surging fire when I thought about the shyness flooding into her expression. She doesn’t need to be cloaked in so much nervousness when her voice is that of an angel, when I know she’s talented and that she’s going to make it.
I chuckle and close my eyes, massaging the bridge of my eyebrows.
How do I know a woman I just met is going to make it as an actor?
My thoughts are stampeding down the most ridiculous avenues, into places that should make no sense. I don’t know this woman, this twenty year old curvy goddess, with her gorgeous juicy breasts and her full kissable lips. And yet I feel like I do know her, like I’ve been waiting for her my whole life.
Groaning, I sit up and run a hand through my hair. My body is still sore from the workout from earlier, but the desire to put myself through another few sets surges up inside of me.
I stand and pace up and down the bedroom, in front of the window. The moonlight is coating the lake and shimmering across it, but then the clouds drift across and block it from sight. There are few stars visible, most of them trapped behind the thick black shield of clouds.
“What do you think, boy?” I murmur, glancing down as Tanker pads over to my feet and curls up. “You think we’re going to get a storm?”
He yawns and rests his chin against my barefoot.
I smirk and lean down, stroking him behind the ear.
But even something as simple as stroking Tanker provokes a whole torrent of memories to rush through me, my mind filled with the way Rayla looked when she leaned down to feed him. I remember the way her breasts danced for me, the way her ass seemed to scream out for me to touch it, grab it, claim it.
Sighing, I turn and walk quietly from the room. I wouldn’t normally have any need to be quiet during my nightly wanderings, but I know that Rayla is probably asleep right now.
The cabin is large – there’s a library, four bedrooms, a large living room and kitchen, a separate dining area, gym, and sauna – but it’s so quiet out here in the countryside, every noise feels amplified. I walk down the hallway and into the kitchen, heading over to the fridge and opening it.
The yellow light flooding against my bare torso, the coolness refreshing against my burning skin.
Maybe I should’ve put on some clothes before I came out here, but old habits die hard, and I’ve never felt the need to wear more than my underwear when I’m in the cabin.
And hell, it’s not like Rayla’s going to be awake at two in the morning, wandering the house…
The world is a funny thing sometimes, playing its tricks because of course Rayla chooses this exact moment to walk into the kitchen.
“Oh,” she murmurs.
I turn away from the fridge, forgetting my nighttime snack, to find her standing there in a bathrobe that shows tempting slices of her thighs. She hugs it tighter around herself, but she can’t hide her bra peeking out from the top, tempting me to rush at her and grab her, palm her breasts, massage her smooth flesh.
“I didn’t expect anyone to be out here,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I stalk over to her, finding it difficult to form words, not that I’d know what to say even if I could form words right now. Her body is so damn curvy, every inch of her made purposefully to drive me wild.
“Were you getting a midnight snack too?” she whispers.
I nod, pausing when I’m so close to her I can scent her need dancing in the air. I can scent her lust and her shivering desire, her aching need to be claimed.
She smells like shampoo and flesh and, fuck, and just-Rayla.
“What were you going to get?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. Something meaty. Something I could sink my teeth into.”
I wonder if she knows I’m talking about her fleshy thighs, her voluptuous tits… if she knows I’m talking about bending her over the kitchen island and sliding my hands over her perfect luscious ass, and then bringing my mouth close and nibbling softly, kissing until I get closer and closer to her hole.
Fuck.
I need to think of Millie, of the horror which would scour across her features if she ever knew how badly I’m lusting over her best friend.
Millie has spoken about Rayla many, many times – about how close they’ve become, how quickly it’s happened, how much she values their friendship.
But my seed roars too loudly inside of me, deafening me to everything except my desire to make Rayla mine.
I lean down, bringing my face inches to hers, achingly aware that I’m nearly naked. My bare chest heaves and my muscles tighten, a song of lust roaring through my mind, telling me to claim her now, now, now.
“Tell me something, Rayla,” I snarl.
“Hmm?” Her eyes glimmer and she moves from foot to foot, as though she can barely contain all the energy moving through her. “What, Roman?”
“Do you have a—”
Suddenly there’s a loud thunderous crack from outside, and then Tanker is barking like crazy, the little dog making a noise louder even than the rainfall. The rain pounds against the roof of the cabin, loud in the quietness of the night, shattering the moment right down the middle.
Rayla steps away from me, her mouth falling open, eyes blazing with shock. It’s like she’s just realized what we were about to do. Like she realized what a betrayal a kiss would be.
Another crack thunders across the sky and the rainfall gets heavier, so loud now it’s like there are angry people on the roof, hammering their fists against it.
“I guess the weatherman was right for once,” I say.
Another crack, another, and then a streak of lightning moves across the sky and flashes into the kitchen, illuming Rayla’s wide and terrified eyes.
Tanker whines and runs in small circles around her legs.
“Are you scared of lightning?” I ask.
She bites her lip, as though she doesn’t want to admit it, but a second later she nods. “Yeah, a bit. A little bit. I know it’s silly.”
“It’s fine. Take Tanker to your bedroom. I’ll batten down the hatches.”
“Hatches?” She flinches as another bolt of lightning turns the room iron-blue. “What hatches?”
I chuckle, staring into her face, into the uneasy smile that plays at her lips. It’s like she’s trying to smile away her fear.
“It’s an expression,” I tell her. “It means I’m going to make sure the place is secure, bolt all the windows and doors.”
She nods, laughing hollowly. “Okay. I get it. Aw, look at him.”
She cradles Tanker to her chest as the little guy begins to tremble.
I reach over, brushing my hand over his head. She does it at the same time and our fingers cross paths, our skin sizzling as we make contact.
I pause, savoring the feel of her skin against mine, the electricity moving up my arm and into my body.
Then another bolt of lightning tears across the sky, and I snatch my hand away.
“Come on, boy,” Rayla says, carrying Tanker down the hallway. “Let’s get you nice and snuggled, huh?”
Even now, I can’t stop myself from staring at her ass shifting in the bathrobe, swinging back and forth like she’s doing it on purpose like she wants me to charge after her and give her a firm spank for being so damn sexy.
Fuck.
If this storm is as bad as the forecast said it could be – if we get the worst of it – we could end up being trapped together for a couple of days. Millie’s flight could be delayed again.
How the hell am I going to resist Rayla then?
