Dirty Seduction

ASHLEY

I'm always the happiest when I'm at my best friend's house. As soon as I pull into the long driveway and see their gorgeous house on the

lake, I immediately feel at peace. I love Sara, and I'm sure that has a lot to do with it, but if I'm being completely honest, it's really because of her dad.

I've been in love with Mr. Mancini for as long as I can remember. I practically grew up in this house, and my entire childhood is filled with memories of him. He was like a second dad to me, but all that changed when I got older. I started to see him in a very different way. He was born in Italy and came to America when he was a teenager, and I began to be aware of those gorgeous Italian genes of his. His jet-black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin drove me crazy when I'd come over and stay the night, and it still does. He's completely ruined my chances of ever being with anyone else. I'm so obsessed with him that I've never even been on a date with anyone. High school for me was like a nunnery. The only action I ever saw was with my hand when I was thinking about my best friend's dad. I try not to think about how fucked up that is.

Pulling my car up to their garage, I park my sensible, and very used, Ford Focus behind Sara's red sports car and grab my bag from the back. Things are going to be different now, I tell myself. We just graduated high school, and I'm 18. Mr. Mancini has been divorced for years, and as far as I know, isn't dating anyone at the moment. Thank god! Maybe I can get him to see me as something other than just his daughter's best friend.

As soon as I ring the doorbell, Sara opens it in a rush and pulls me into a big hug.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

I laugh and hug her back. "We did just see each other a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, but it's different now that we've graduated. I don't miss school, but I miss seeing you every day."

I follow her inside and toss my bag by the stairs before we head into the kitchen to grab a drink. Climbing onto a stool, I wait while she digs around in the fridge. It's just Sara and her dad in this massive house, and they're wealthy enough to have a maid and a cook who comes by to prepare all their meals in advance, so when she pulls out a pitcher of what looks to be homemade lemonade, I know it's going to be delicious.

She pours us a couple of glasses and sits on the barstool next to me.

"I've already ordered us pizza for later, and there's a scary-looking movie that we can watch."

"You never last more than five minutes," I say with a grin. "You watch the whole movie from under a blanket or between your fingers. I don't know why you keep trying."

"I do not! I watch them." She shrugs and adds, "Most of them."

"That's all right. I don't mind giving you play-by-plays. I can be the brave one in this relationship."

She snorts and butts her shoulder against mine. "Very funny."

I take a drink of my lemonade and can't help but give a groan of appreciation. "Holy shit that's good."

"I know, right? Mrs. Johnson is the best. You remember her chocolate chip cookies?"

"Oh my god, so good," I say, remembering the last time I had them.

"Well, she heard you were coming and made us some."

"Tell her I said thanks and I love her."

Sara laughs and empties her glass in one long drink. "Will do."

When I'm done, we head up to her room, and I can't wait any longer, so

I say, "So, is it just you and me tonight?"

"Yeah, my dad is at some work thing. He said he'll be gone pretty much all night."

I try not to look as disappointed as I feel. There's always tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to see him in the morning before I leave. It's hard to resist the urge to just lay down and curl into a ball, but I don't want to ruin the night for Sara, and I sure as fuck don't want her to know how I feel about her dad. Plastering a grin on my face, I do my best to enjoy our evening. It's not long before Sara has me laughing and the time starts to fly by.

The doorbell rings, letting us know the pizza's here, and I hang back while Sara gets the door. I have to stifle a laugh when the young delivery guy starts acting all flustered around her. Sara is gorgeous. How could she not be with a dad like hers? Men, old and young, can't help but fawn over her. Where my clothing tends to cover more than reveal, Sara's outfits are chosen to show as much flesh as possible. I've always felt like the less attractive, invisible friend, but I've never been angry or jealous of her. Okay, well maybe a little jealous, but not in a mean way. I love Sara to death, and she's never made me feel bad about myself. Quite the opposite. She loves my blonde hair and brown eyes and always tells me there's nothing wrong with being on the short side.

I park my butt on the stairs when it's obvious the delivery guy is in no rush to get away. When my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl, she finally says goodbye and follows me into the kitchen with the pizza and a phone number.

"You're such a flirt., I say with a laugh, grabbing a couple of plates for us.

"Of course, I was flirting. Did you see how hot he was?"

I don't even bother to answer and instead just laugh. I may not have dated at all in high school, but Sara sure did. Her sex life more than made up for my lack of one. I may not have gotten to experience anything myself, but I sure did get to hear some funny stories!

We happily stuff our faces for the next several minutes, and when we're back in her room, she grabs my arm and pulls me into her bathroom.

"You've got to do this face mask with me. It's an overnight mask, so we have to wear it for like ever, but it's supposed to be awesome. I ordered it from France a few weeks ago but it was out of stock. It finally got here today, and I can't wait to try it!"

I look at the fancy glass jar but can't understand a word that's written on it. When I open it, I'm surprised by how good it smells, like something from a tropical island. The dark green color of it is definitely at odds with its amazing smell.

While Sara starts to slather it on her skin, I pull my hair into a messy bun and laugh at her now very green skin.

"Don't laugh. You're next," she says, handing me the jar.

I spread the thick, clay-like substance on my face as Sara fidgets next to me.

"So, I kind of have something to tell me, but I don't want you to freak out."

"What?" I say, already worried by how nervous she looks.

"I heard back about the study abroad thing. They accepted me." She gives me a small grin, but I can see how excited she is by the news. She's just holding back for my sake, and I hate that she feels like she needs to do that.

I give her a big grin and squeeze her shoulder since I can't pull her in for a big hug with our faces like this.

"I'm excited for you," I say, making sure she knows how much I mean it. "I'm going to miss you like crazy, but Italy for an entire semester!

You're going to have so much fun!"

She seems so relieved by my excitement, and the big smile she gives me lets me see exactly how much she's looking forward to it. I knew there was a good chance she'd get accepted, so it's not like it's a complete shock. I'll miss my friend for sure, but the real reason I'm upset is because now I'll have no excuse to see Mr. Mancini.

I try to act normal, but not even the scary movie can take my mind off how miserable I feel. When Sara mentions she's getting hungry, I quickly offer to run downstairs and grab us some cookies. She smiles, pauses the movie, and immediately starts scrolling through all her social media accounts. I take my time heading downstairs, knowing that she'll be happily buried in her phone for however long I take.

Once I'm downstairs, a deep voice pulls me out of my melancholy trance. My heart skips a beat when I silently peer around the corner and see Mr. Mancini talking on his phone by the window. He's thrown his suit jacket over the side of the couch and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his white dress shirt. He's also rolled up his sleeves, giving me an amazing view of his toned, tanned forearms.

I always forget to breathe when I first see him. He's so fucking gorgeous. His dark hair looks like he's just run his hand through it, and the stubble on his cheeks just seems to accentuate his chiseled jaw. Without seeing me, he turns toward the window so I'm getting more of a side view, but it's enough to make my body react. My nipples are hard and my whole body is buzzing with the need to be touched. I can already feel how wet my panties are getting.

I scootch back a little more, hiding my body in the shadows of the hallway while still peeking into the room so I can see him. The call has something to do with work, and he doesn't sound pleased. He's completely absorbed in the conversation, and without giving myself time to think, I slide my hand into my pajama bottoms and under my panties.

If this is one of my last chances to see him before Sara leaves, then I want to make it a good one. This memory is going to have to last me a long time. His broad shoulders hold my attention as I slide a finger into my very wet pussy and start to fuck myself as quietly as possible. Already my knees feel shaky and when I bring a finger up to circle my clit, I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

The sound of his deep, sexy voice washes over me as I move my hand faster. I'm so close. I lean against the wall to help support myself and try to keep my breathing as quiet as possible. When he turns his head enough to give me a clear view of the sexy line of his neck and his exposed upper chest, I can't help but scoot closer in the doorway so I can see him better. The smooth expanse of muscled chest mixed with that strong forearm that's lifted to hold his phone is enough to make me cum hard against my hand. Pleasure races over me, threatening to consume me and make me fall to my knees, but I manage to keep myself upright.

Right as I'm coming down, I give my clit another rub that sends a jolt of pleasure through me that's so strong a soft moan manages to escape. I freeze, completely terrified, and when Mr. Mancini starts to turn his head, I want to die of embarrassment. It all happens so damn fast, and in just a second, he's looking at me. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees me leaning against the doorway with my hand buried in my pants.

I seriously think about just turning around and running. I mean, he wouldn't try and chase me, right? Then I could just leave and never come back, and we'd never have to speak of this. But as soon as he starts walking toward me, I can't move. There's a heat in his eyes that has me wanting to slide my finger back in my pussy, but instead, I very slowly bring my hand out of my pants and put it behind my back. It's bad enough he saw me. I don't want the obvious wet fingers incriminating me even further. Besides, maybe I can talk my way out of this.

I mean, who just stands in a doorway and fucks themselves? Maybe I can convince him it wasn't what it looked like.

He stops right in front of me, and I desperately want to look into his gorgeous eyes, but I'm way too embarrassed to do so. I focus on his throat but as soon as he swallows, I have an overwhelming urge to lick my way up his Adam's apple, so I quickly drop my gaze and focus on his ridiculously expensive-looking shoes.

"Ashley, I didn't realize you were downstairs."

I may not be looking at his face, but the amusement in his voice is damn easy to pick up on, and I've never been more embarrassed in my life.

"Um, hi, Mr. Mancini. Sara said you'd be gone all night. I just came down to get a snack. It sounds like you're busy, so I'll just get out of your way."

Before I can make my escape, he stops me by gently grabbing onto my shoulder. I feel the heat of his skin through my top, and it sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

"Look at me."

His voice is deep and sexy, and even though he grew up in America, he still has a faint Italian accent thanks to it being his first and only language for so long. My god, just the sound of it has my pussy springing to life again. When he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, I slowly lift my gaze, letting my eyes trail over his long legs, then the white shirt that I know is hiding a set of abs to die for and a chest to match, until finally I'm looking into his very dark, very amused eyes.

I notice he hasn't let go of my arm, and when he starts to rub his thumb in small circles, I let out a small moan that has him lifting an eyebrow at me. I do a lame fake cough, trying to cover it which only makes him smile, and it's the sexiest damn smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of look that promises all kinds of wicked, naughty things, and I want it all.

Before I can throw myself at him, he asks, "So what were you doing when I first saw you?"

It's like a bucket of cold water being thrown at me when I remember how he found me with my hand down my pants.

"Um, I was just on my way to the kitchen, but then I heard your voice, so I thought I'd just peek in and say hi," I say, feeling like an absolute dumbass.

He studies me for a minute and my heart races when his eyes trail to where I'd just had my hand buried.

"You have an interesting way of saying hello."

When he pulls his eyes back to mine, he gives me a wink that sends a flutter through my chest.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I say, hoping to still bluff my way out of this.

Without saying anything, he slides his hand down my arm, circling his long fingers around my wrist before pulling my hand up between us. My traitorous glistening fingers are screaming my guilt. There's no denying what I was doing.

"Was this because of me?" he asks, studying me so intently that it's like he can see into my very soul. I look for signs that he's upset or disgusted, but all I can see is curiosity and desire, and it shocks the hell out of me.

When I don't answer quickly enough, he leans down and steps closer. His expensive cologne is not helping me think straight. I'm just a puddle of arousal, and if I could form words, I'd beg him to bend me over the couch and fuck the virginity right out of me.

"Ashley, I asked you a question." He leans in closer and sniffs my fingers while keeping his eyes locked on mine. The groan he lets out has me so wet I can feel it starting to trickle down my inner thighs. "Were you thinking of me?"

"Yes," I finally manage to whisper. "I always think about you."

The smile he gives me can only be described as sinfully wicked. "I'm very glad to hear that," he says before wrapping his mouth around my two wet fingers.

I gasp at the sensation of his tongue sliding along my skin and the wet heat of his mouth as he licks and sucks me clean. I feel like I'm about to orgasm again. My whole body is lit up from the inside, and every stroke of his tongue brings me closer to the breaking point.

His dark, intense eyes never leave mine, and when I let out another moan, I see him smile around my fingers. I want to cry in protest when he slowly slides my fingers out and stands back up.

"You'd better go back up to bed," he says in a strained voice that has me wanting to grind myself against him. "A man can only take so much temptation." He gives me a wink and adds, "You look very good in green, by the way."

It takes a second for his words to penetrate the thick fog of arousal around my cock-obsessed brain. Green? I'm not wearing green. And then it hits me, and I'm slowly shaking my head no, willing it not to be true as one hand goes up to my face. When I feel the mask still on my skin, I give an embarrassed groan and bolt out of the room. I can't believe I forgot the damn mask! His deep laughter follows me out of the room along with his parting words, "I'll see you soon, Ashley."

I'm too embarrassed to say anything back, but as mortified as I am, there's also a thrill running through me because holy fuck! The memory of Mr. Mancini licking the pussy juice off my fingers will stay with me forever. I just need to make sure that I'm not left with only a memory.