Sinful Addiction

DIANE

HOLY SHIT! My father's best friend had his face buried in between my legs.

I threw my head back against the headrest, fisting his hair in my palms but it only urged him to go faster.

His breath was warm against my clit and just when I thought I couldn't get enough, he hummed, the vibration sending intense waves of pleasure through me.

"Oh my God," this was so wrong yet my body betrayed me, leaning closer into his touch.

I felt the feeling build up within me and just when I got at the edge of my release, a loud ringing jolted me up.

My eyes snapped open as the annoying sound of my alarm persisted.

The rays of the sunlight peeping in through the window came first, illuminating the room. I tried to calm my breathing down.

"Not again!" I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. These same dreams had tormented my nights for the past four years.

His arms around me, his tongue dragging me to ecstacy beyond my imagination. This was forbidden and I knew it deep within my soul.

He was my father's best friend and like a second father to me, never missing any of my school games back in high-school and being so caring and protective about me so why the hell did I keep thinking of him this way.

He was the reason I left New York to Paris for college. It started off as a fatherly attraction for me but I didn't know when it became something more. Something dangerous. Something off limits.

I thought I could suppress whatever it was going on with me but for the past four years, I'd failed terribly at that.

I pulled off the duvet that covered the lower part of my body, swinging my legs off the bed. The ache in between my legs were too much and too intense to ignore.

I dismissed the alarm on the bedside table and headed into the bathroom. I caught my reflection in the mirror, my blonde hair was disheveled, the bangs almost covering my eyes.

Mascara was smudged on my eyelids with lipstick smeared across my cheeks. I looked like I was run over by a truck.

Well that's what I get from partying all night with my friends. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the party type but last night was an exception. It was the last party after our final exams and truth be told, Isabella, my friend practically had to drag my ass out of my room amidst all my protests.

Was I glad to be done with college? Hell yes! It was a really fun ride but I'm glad it's over.

I pulled out some wipes and began cleaning the makeup from my face, trying to make myself less terrifying.

After wiping as much as I could, I turned on the faucet, bending my head as I splashed cold water on my face.

His dark hair, his well groomed beards and above all, his perfectly chiseled torso flashed in my mind as the water hit my face.

It's been a few years since I last saw him but I still remembered every little detail about him. The little scar that cut across his left brow, the birthmark just above his collarbone, his scent of sandalwood mixed with birch tar. Every single thing.

It was like they were embedded forever in my memory and no matter how much I willed to forget, I just couldn't.

The last I saw him was three years ago in a photo my dad sent me during the funeral of his wife. He looked sleep deprived and in mourning but forgive me Lord, he looked like sin in flesh notwithstanding his state.

He was a widower at forty-six. His wife, Emilia had been suffering from cancer for the past nine years before she finally gave up.

"God rest her soul," I muttered, doing the sign of the cross as I said a little prayer for the peaceful repose of her soul.

I felt really bad for him and at myself for feeling this way about him but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't.

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts.

I rushed back to the room, my feet bare against the cold tiles, grabbing a towel on my way out and dabbing the water off my face.

A smile made its way to my lips as the name 'Dad' flashed across my screen.

I swiped to answer the call and put it on speaker. "Hi, dad," my tone was chirpy.

"You don't call your old man anymore huh?" His voice rang from the other end in a playful and teasing tone.

"Oh stop being so dramatic dad," I laughed. "I called you yesterday."

"That was yesterday. It's a new day. How's my little girl doing?"

"I'm not so little anymore, you know, I'm twenty-four," I smiled and began unbuttoning my shirt. I needed a shower.

"No matter how old you get you'll always be my little girl."

I shook my head, a slight chuckle escaping my lips. He has been calling me his little girl since the moment I was born and the nickname has stuck for years and I doubt he plans on stopping that anytime soon.

"Alright dad. How are you?"

"Fine fine," he said, then I heard a loud gulp from the other end of the phone and I knew he was taking his morning coffee.

"Coffee again?"

"Mhmm," he hummed.

"You should really cut down on the quantity of caffeine you take in these days dad," I warned.

His deep laugh resonated through the speakers. "Alright mum," he teased and I just shook my head at him although he couldn't see me.

"Book your flight yet?" He asked.

"Um yes," I said, scanning through my wardrobe for what to wear today.

"When are you coming in? Hope you'll be here in time for your old man's 50th birthday?"

"I won't miss it for anything in the world."

"That's my girl," he laughed, then coughed.

"Sorry dad."

He hummed and cleared his throat.

"I'll be coming in this weekend."

"Perfect. I'll send the driver to pick you up from the airport?"

"You don't have to stress about that, I can find my way back home."

"No you won't," he laughed. "You've been away for too long. The driver will pick you up once you land," he said, leaving no room for further argument.

"Alright. I'll keep you updated okay?"

"Sure. You make me so proud," my dad was never one to hide his feelings. Ever since mum died when I was fourteen leaving just the both of us, he has made sure and gone out of his way to ensure I lacked nothing. Not material things and not emotional support.

He even encourages me to talk to him about the guys I like. As if I'd ever do that. He'd have their heads on a platter. And even worse if he knows it's his best friend.

"Thank you dad."

"See you soon kiddo."

"See you soon dad," I said, already feeling nostalgic. I couldn't wait to go home.

The line went dead as he ended the call. I stood in the middle of the room in just my bra and panties, staring at the blank screen in my hands.

I'll be going back to New York in three days. I was both excited and scared. 'He' will be there. I haven't seen him in a long time and I don't know what to do, how to react or what to expect.

Damon. God, even his name made my pulse race.

I'd always kept my feelings a secret from him. It was a secret I swore I'd take to my grave but each waking day makes it so hard to do that.

I knew I was walking head on into a very dangerous game but what's the worst that could happen?

New York, here I come.

DIANE

3 DAYS LATER...

The breeze whipped my hair in all directions as I stepped out from the airport building, dragging my little luggage behind me.

I didn't like traveling heavy so I'd sent my other things and they'll be arriving tomorrow.

I reached for my phone in my purse as I searched the swarm of people and cars for the familiar face of our family driver, Ray.

Pulling my shades down to shield my eyes from the intensity of the sun rays, I switched on my phone and was about to dial the driver's number to ask where he was parked when a message notification from my dad popped up.

I squinted my eyes and was about to click on the message when a voice sounded, freezing me on the spot.

My breath hitched, the heartbeat pounding loudly against my ribcage.

It can't be. It can't possibly be. It definitely can't be!

"Diane," the deep and husky voice called out my name again.

Even in my sleep I could recognize that voice anytime and anywhere, even from a mile away.

I'm mistaken right? It can't possibly be him. Dad said the driver would come pick me up.

That's right. I clicked on the message my dad sent, the letters blurring in my vision. I skimmed through the text, seeing the words busy, can't make it, office, driver, Damon, pick you up.

What?!

My legs felt like jelly. Through my eyes that were still glued to my phone screen, I saw a shadow of a figure approaching me, blocking the sun from my view.

I feared to look up. I couldn't. I couldn't control how fast my heart was beating, how sweaty my palms were. I suddenly felt so hot all over. My hand that rested on my luggage faltered, causing the luggage to slip to the ground.

I slowly lifted my head up, seeing him stride towards me in quick steps. I didn't move as his figure towered effortlessly above my 5'9 height.

I took in his features. The suit hugged his arm and torso like a second skin, his hair was still the same, gelled back in his usual signature look, his beards well groomed with a tint of silver.

The sight of him sent a dull ache to my nether region.

As he came close, the familiar scent of his cologne hit me, enveloping me in the sweet and addicting scent.

"Diane?" He cocked his brows as if for a second he thought he was mistaken.

I quickly gathered myself, mentally reciting the words I'd always used to calm myself from doing something stupid especially when he was close by.

'He's my dad's friend. I don't like him. I'm just confused. It'll all go away soon' I recited.

"Hi, Uncle Damon," I tried to put on a smile but my insides were in total chaos.

He wasn't meant to be here.

"You're all grown now Diane," his eyes swept over me and lingered for a second longer before he caught himself and looked away.

I felt my knees buckle at that singular act.

"You aren't the little girl I once knew anymore." His words hung around me. To him it might have been an innocent compliment but my mind had to take it a thousand miles further.

He said I was all grown now. Does it mean perhaps he notices me? Hell no. I'm his best friend's daughter. I'm sure he'd never look at me wrong or even think of it.

I smiled and muttered a small "thank you."

"How was your flight?" He asked, reaching for the luggage on the floor. I could see the way his muscles flexed even in the suit at his movement.

He was so close to me and my hands itched for me to touch him but no. I couldn't.

"It was smooth," I replied absent-mindedly, my mind still clouded by his more mature features.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Richard had an emergency meeting and the driver meant to pick you up had to take him," he said as he dragged the luggage and I followed behind him.

"Yes...um he left me a message," I replied awkwardly while tucking my hair behind my ears.

He nodded. "How was college? I heard you're all done now. That's wonderful news Diane." The way my name rolled off his tongue made my stomach tighten. Oh God! I was acting like a hormonal teenager that just saw her crush!

"Thank you Uncle Damon."

We came to a stop in front of a Rolls Royce Phantom. Of course! Damon Pierce doesn't do anything by halves. I'm talking about generational wealth here!

He opened the boot and effortlessly lifted my luggage like it weighed nothing and placed it into the boot.

I stood watching his every movement with my mouth half open.

He closed the boot and came towards me. My heart pounded faster as he closed the distance between us, his eyes locked on mine.

My back hit the side of the car as I took a step back. He took one closer. I took fast and shallow breaths as he invaded my personal space.

"W‐what-" the words died in my throat as he reached to the side and pulled the passenger door open for me.

My face heated up and I knew I'd be as red as a tomato.

I quickly gathered myself, trying not to show him how flushed I was as he came close to me.

"Um...uh T-thank you," I stuttered and slid into the passenger seat, the leather seats smooth and soft against my body.

He closed the door with a dull thud, before rounding the car and getting into the driver's seat.

He ran his hand through his hair, an action that I've gotten accustomed to. He does it whenever he's nervous. Did I make him nervous? No. Impossible.

"Cold?"

"What?" I asked confused.

"Are you cold?" He asked, taking off his suit jacket. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his forearms.

"N-no," I said, barely audible but he heard me because he nodded.

He placed his jacket at the center console, one sleeve falling on my lap. I couldn't help myself from tracing my fingers across the jacket, imagining it was his arm I was touching instead.

I looked up at him only to see him roll up the sleeves on his shirt revealing his muscular arms before he pulled his tie down and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.

My throat immediately went dry. I averted my gaze and shifted uncomfortably in the car.

He turned on the air-conditioner. The engine roared to life as he started the car.

I stole one more glance at him as he drove away from the airport, his left hand on the steering wheel while his right hand rested on the center console.

He was left-handed and I found it all the more alluring and intriguing.

I could see a little hint of stress and tiredness in his face as he drove. I wish I could take it all away.

Oh my God. This is just my first day back and I'm barely holding up with him this close to me. How am I meant to survive this?

DIANE

I must've been staring too obviously because his voice cut through my thoughts.

"Sure you're okay?" He glanced at me for a second before shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.

"Yes I am," I rushed out, hating how unsure the words sounded. "Just jet lag," I lied.

He squinted his eyes at me as if he could see through my facade. I slipped my fingertips between the seatbelt fastened around me, fisting them in my palms. Just anything to distract me from the fact that I was alone in this car with him.

We drove in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft music playing through his Bluetooth and the honking of cars outside.

I stared out through the window. New York was just as I remembered it. Busy roads, people going about their daily lives and the annoying traffic. But still, it was home.

A phone vibrated beside me, cutting through my thoughts. I turned at the sound. It was coming from his jacket.

I tried to reach for the phone but at the same time, he reached for it as well, his large palms on my smaller ones. I felt a chilling sensation at the contact. For a second, neither of us moved.

"Um...I was just trying to get your phone for you," I explained.

He lifted his hand from mine and nodded.

I pulled out the phone, but before I could hand it over to him, I caught sight of the caller ID. I instantly felt the color drain from my face. My chest felt tight like I couldn't get enough air no matter how hard I tried.

The name 'Kara' with a red heart emoji lit up the screen. It felt like someone had punched all the air right out of my lungs.

Who was Kara?

I didn't realize I had been staring at the screen for way too long until the call ended. In the second that followed, the phone started to ring again and the same name popped up.

Damon reached and took the phone from my hands, disconnecting the Bluetooth before pressing the phone to his ear.

"Kara," he breathed, his smile wide and genuine. My insides churned, my eyes stung as a feminine voice said something on the other line although I couldn't make out what she said.

"Yes Kara. We're still on for this weekend. I'll come see you," he replied to whatever the person on the other end of the line said, the smile never leaving his face.

That smile that could make any girl go weak in her knees. I'd always wanted to be the reason he smiled like that, but now it was directed at someone else, leaving me deeply hurt.

I knew this was crazy. I knew it'd be insane to say I felt heartbroken when we were never in a relationship to begin with, but that's exactly how I felt.

"Roses? Yes I sent them. Do you like them?" He asked, running his hands through his hair. She made him nervous? And he sent her flowers?

I couldn't tear my gaze from him. I watched his every action, how his smile reached his eyes, how he seemed so carefree and comfortable with whoever he was speaking to.

His girlfriend perhaps? Was she young?

Just the thought of him belonging to someone else shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.

I held back the tears that threatened to spill. I shouldn't be acting this way. I needed to make whatever this forbidden attraction I had to him go away.

Distance couldn't help me get rid of this. Four years away from him and nothing had changed. I was still pathetically in love with a man I could never have.

I blocked out the sound of their conversation, looking out through the windows till the roads began to get familiar.

The sun was about to set, casting an orange glow over the horizon. It was an incredible sight to behold.

I saw the house I grew up in come into view and a genuine smile replaced the fake one I'd been wearing.

The car came to a stop at the driveway. He ended the call and I felt his eyes on me.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice different now compared to the warmth they were filled with when he spoke to whoever that was.

I forced a smile, fighting the urge to ask him who that was. "No problem."

"Welcome back home," his voice was warm but there was something else underneath. Something I couldn't quite place.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, my fingers fumbling with the mechanism. I needed to get out of this car. Away from him. Away from the cologne that now felt suffocating. Away from the reminder that I was a fool for ever thinking we could be something.

"Diane." I froze, my hand on the door handle.

"Thank you, Uncle Damon. For picking me up," I managed, not meeting his eyes.

Before he could respond, I pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool evening air, finally able to breathe.

He came down as well, helping me bring out my luggage.

"I can take it from here," I said, reaching for the handle of the luggage.

"Are you sure about that?" He raised his brow.

I barely had my emotions in check right now and each second I stayed with him after the phone call I just heard made me feel like a fool.

"Yes, Uncle Damon."

He didn't look convinced, but he let me take the luggage from him.

"Your father will be back tonight. I can wait for you to freshen up so we can go get dinner if-"

"I'm not hungry," I cut him off, my voice sounding harsh and I instantly hated myself for using that tone on him.

He was just trying to be nice and look after me but here I was acting like a brat.

"I'm sorry uncle Damon," I apologized. "I'm just so exhausted."

He nodded and I took that as my cue to drag my luggage into the house. I could still feel his eyes on me till I got to the door and inputted the pass code.

It was past six by now and I knew the maids would have been gone. I was glad to be alone right now.

I went up the stairs into my room. Everything was still as I left it. I abandoned the luggage by the door, plopping down on the soft mattress, the exhaustion finally kicking in.

I reached towards the bedside table, slipping my hand behind the small space between the table and the wall to reach for something.

I pulled it out and stared at it. It was a picture of me and Damon during my high school graduation. He stared at me with a wide smile on his face with his hands wrapped around my shoulder while I stared straight at the camera.

Back then, I'd thought that look in his eyes meant something, that perhaps he felt something for me. But I was mistaken.

I hugged the picture to my chest, laying back on the bed.

My eyes began to feel heavy.

'Roses? Yeah I sent them' his voice replayed in my head as I let a lone tear slip before exhaustion pulled me into a deep slumber.