Luis, my dad's best friend, is single, for now. He's practically family, but not quite. He's been in my life for as long as I can remember. He was there for every scraped knee, every bad day, every school project I needed help with. He's always been my protector, my rock. But over the past few years, things have changed or will I say I have changed? The truth is, I started having feelings for him.
It started when I began noticing things about him that I hadn't before. Like the way his black hair shines in the sun or how those piercing blue eyes of his seem to see right through me. Or the dimple in his left cheek that makes me weak every time he smiles. And don't get me started on his body. Broad shoulders, strong arms, and abs that I just know are carved under his t-shirts. Recently, I even noticed a little gray in his hair, but instead of ruining him, it makes him even sexier.
I've been saving myself for Luis in my own imagination. I want my first time to be with him, and this week is my chance. I'm finally 18, an adult now, and I've got the house to myself with him. I've been shamelessly flirting with him for months, but he's always brushed it off unknowingly, but I know he feels something for me. I've seen the way his eyes linger sometimes. This time was my only chance and I needed to use it.
My parents left a few hours ago, and I've been buzzing with some much thinking ever since. When I heard the low rumble of an engine pulling into the driveway, my heart raced. Peeking through the window, I saw Luis step out of his white car, and the sight of him took my breath away.
He looked so good, it was almost unfair. The black t-shirt he wore clung to his chest and arms, showing off every muscle. His jeans fit him just right, and his broad shoulders seemed even bigger than I remembered. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I felt my body respond in ways I couldn't control. My nipples tightened under my tight shirt, and I could feel the slick heat building between my thighs.
I watched as he grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat, slung it over his shoulder, and walked to the door. Every movement screamed confidence, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at myself. I'd picked my outfit carefully, shorty shorts, a snug t-shirt with no bra, and freshly painted pink toenails. My long blonde hair fell loose around my shoulders because I remembered him once saying he loved the way it curled at the ends. Sure, it was years ago, but it still counted, didn't it? I heard the door click shut and the heavy thud of his boots against the hard floor. My heart pounded as I tossed my hair one last time, gathering my courage. Then, with a wide smile, I ran down the stairs, yelling his name.
"Luis!" I called out as I rushed down the stairs. His eyes widened slightly, taking in the sight of my bare legs and the bounce of my chest under my snug t-shirt. I beamed at him, flashing my widest smile before launching myself into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist as I hugged him tightly, pressing myself against his hard, muscular body. His scent hit me instantly, his cologne, rich and intoxicating, mixed with something purely him. I loved it.
He chuckled softly, his arms steady as he held me, before gently setting me down. "Whoa there," he said, stepping back and holding me at arm's length.
I groaned in protest, pouting dramatically.
"Hey," he murmured, tilting my chin up with his finger so I'd meet his gaze. "You're getting a little too old to be jumping on me like that, aren't you, Emma?"
"Luis!" I whined, pushing out my bottom lip. "Didn't you miss me?"
He gave me that smile, that smile, the one that brought out the dimple in his cheek and made my heart skip a beat. "Of course, I missed you, little princess."
In my mind, I said, 'I am not that little princess you have always thought of, I am now eighteen for crying out loud. Although his words made my stomach shiver, even as he gave my arm a quick, playful squeeze before picking up his duffel bag. I watched as he started toward the spare room downstairs, but I wasn't about to let that happen. With a mischievous grin, I dashed after him, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back toward the stairs.
"That's not where you're staying, silly," I teased playfully.
He raised a brow. "Oh? And where am I staying?"
"Mom and Dad wouldn't want you sleeping on that uncomfortable futon for a week. They told me to tell you to use their room."
Without waiting for a response, I looped my arm through his and led him upstairs to the master bedroom, conveniently located not far from my room. I threw myself onto the bed, running a hand over the freshly made blanket.
"See? Much better," I said, smiling up at him. "I even washed the bedding and got everything ready for you."
For a moment, I saw something flash in his eyes, something intense, something hungry. But he shook his head sharply, breaking whatever spell he was under, and looked away.
"I don't mind staying in the guest room," he said, his voice a little strained. "Maybe it's better if I'm downstairs."
"No way," I insisted, rolling onto my stomach and kicking my feet behind me. "This is what they wanted. Besides," I added sweetly, "I'll feel safer knowing you're so close."
He ran a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh before finally giving in.
"Okay," he said, sounding defeated. "I'll stay here."
"Perfect!" I chirped, bouncing off the bed. "I'll go start dinner!"
I took a few steps toward the door before stopping abruptly and spinning around. "Oh, I almost forgot! The hot water in the master bath isn't working, so you'll have to bathe with me."
His blue eyes widened, and I couldn't help but laugh. "I mean you'll have to use the shower in my bathroom," I clarified, grinning. "Hope you don't mind!"
I didn't wait for him to answer. Instead, I gave a little excited hop, knowing full well how his eyes followed the movement of my breasts, and then headed downstairs with a satisfied smile. The next part of my plan was already falling into place.