Only a Kiss (PAPERBACK)

Rule #1: Don't fantasize about your best friend's dad

SADIE

My plush bed supported me as I closed my eyes and fell into the familiar fantasy. I glided my fingers over my collarbone in a feather-light touch. My manicured fingernails traced a line down until they circled the tight buds of my nipples. Nibbling my lip, I pulled them into stiff peaks before pinching hard. A gasp escaped as my pussy clenched, aching for the thick, large cock of the man I
hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for years. But I needed more than nipple play. I needed to come. Hard.

And only one man had ever been able to get me there. Even if just in my fantasies.

When the boys at school started asking me out relentlessly but would touch me like they were searching for a light switch in the dark, it was his voice I’d hear in my head as my own fingers explored my sex and I learned how to pleasure myself.

When I finally lost my virginity at eighteen with my boyfriend who failed to make me orgasm, it was him I thought of when I touched myself later until my toes curled
and my back arched off the bed as bliss shot down my spine.

When my douchey boyfriend in college was only good for two
or three pumps and a truckload of disappointment, it was the thought of him whispering dirty words in between eating my pussy like it was his last meal who made my nipples peak into tight buds and my thighs shake as I came.

Every lackluster sexual encounter—and there had been
many—had been followed by a solo session and a very particular fantasy of dirty words, sweaty bodies, and an older man who would never see me as anything more than his daughter’s best friend.

I let the fantasy come to life in my mind as I moved my fingers away from my nipples and down my stomach, eliciting goose bumps in their wake. My breath
quickened the closer they got to the pulsing throb of desire that had been aching for release for hours.

There was one particular moment I usually came back to that never failed to make me
wet. A moment I was never supposed to see. A night when Mr. Jones thought Jenna was staying at her mom’s house, when instead she’d changed her mind after she got into a fight with her mom. As her best friend, I came over to stay with her because we both thought her dad was going to be out of town.

He wasn’t. Something I found out when I got up in the middle of the night to get some water and overheard a moan coming from down the hall. Instead of ignoring it like I knew I should, I tiptoed down the hall toward his room, and my heart beat faster when I noticed the door cracked open. Before I reached the door, another moan rang out, and then a sexy growl that had my thighs clenching and a tingling between my legs that I was still getting used to.

“Yes, baby, take that cock. Fuck. You like how that big, thick cock stretches your pretty little pussy, don’t you? Take it all the way. That’s a good girl.”

My breath stalled completely in my chest at his words and the obscene sounds of wet skin slapping together. I’d never heard him talk this way before—his voice deep, guttural, ragged. He rarely even swore in front of
Jenna, so to hear such vulgar words come out of his mouth felt like I was listening to someone else.

But it was the sight that greeted me when I peeked through the small crack in the door that changed my life forever. Mr. Jones looked like a fucking Greek god, his chiseled body glistening in the dim light from his bedside lamp as his hips thrust vigorously inside the pink and swollen pussy lips of the woman draped face down over his bed. I hadn’t had sex yet at that point, but that didn’t matter.

I wanted to be her.

I wanted to feel his big, fat cock pushing inside my body. 

I wanted him to whisper filthy things in my ear and take me to the heaven that he seemed to take her if the euphoric expression on her face—which was tilted in my direction—was any indication.

This time, I imagined I was the woman on the bed from all those years ago. I tipped my head back as my fingers made a circle around my clit, and pleasure built up inside me. This wasn’t going to take long.

It never did when I fantasized about him.

The one man I could never have, no matter how badly I wanted him. Travis Jones was an upstanding citizen, active community member, a successful business owner, and the man who’d unknowingly had my fantasies in a chokehold since I was seventeen.

I quickened my motion while keeping the pressure light until my stomach tightened and my orgasm ripped through me. But it wasn’t enough.

I needed more.

I needed him, but my vibrator would have to do since he wasn’t an option. He never would be.

I rolled over and pulled open my nightstand where my favorite cock-shaped vibrator waited. I was already wet from my release, so it slid easily inside
me. I turned it on and teased myself, pumping it in and out slowly, like I imagined he would do, his fingers wrapped loosely, but possessively around my
throat while he called me his good girl and made my body feel pleasure like I’d never known. My hand quickened the motion of my vibrator pumping in and out of me, each stroke in hitting a place so deep it had me barely able to catch my breath. My stomach tightened once again, the muscles in my legs strained as my body strung tight.

Oh God.

It felt so good.

I kept hitting that spot until my vision blurred and my orgasm exploded through me, ripping out a scream from my throat as my body shook uncontrollably on my bed. Another tremor ripped through me when I pulled the vibrator out quickly,
the sensations becoming too much.

I sagged against my bed as my body slowly came back down to earth. The release was exactly what I needed.

And yet…

Like always, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d make it so much better than any fantasy I could come up with. 

Unfortunately, even if he saw me as a woman instead of his daughter’s best friend who was
twenty years younger than he was, I knew he’d never act on it. He’d never sacrifice his reputation in the community, but more than that, he’d never
sacrifice his relationship with Jenna.

So, like every time before, he’d remain a fantasy, even if I wished with every breath that he could be so much more.

***

I finished fastening my strappy silver stilettos right as a knock sounded on the door of my apartment.

“Be right there,” I called out as I stood in front of my full-length mirror and checked out my appearance one last time. I was running a little late, but I was
trying to convince myself that was fine.

Fashionably late was a thing for a reason.

Except that my boss, Shannon, might not agree.

Another knock sounded, and I grabbed my clutch and made my way to the door. Grant Davis
stood on the other side looking sexy in a fitted navy suit. If only I could be attracted to him instead. But he was my coworker in a completely platonic
capacity. Both of us had been voluntold that we were required to attend the historical society’s biggest event of the year—a masquerade ball. Shannon
Perry, our boss at Perry Designs, had told everyone that we needed to attend tonight.

I’d been fortunate to get a job at her small firm that marketed itself as a one-stop shop for interior design and eco-friendly
architectural design. I’d completed an internship with her my last semester of college, and she hired me on my last day. It was a relief to graduate knowing I already had a job with a very comfortable salary—especially by LA standards.

“Looking gorgeous as ever,” Grant said, his crystalline gaze glancing appreciatively down my body. And yet, not a single spark lit up my skin the way it did whenever I saw Mr. Jones. Which was fine, since I suspected Grant wasn’t interested in me anyway. He was flirty and friendly with many women, but always held himself back, like he was waiting for someone in particular.

“Got your mask?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said, grabbing the silver mask that was resting on the table by my front door. I’d done my makeup with cherry-red lips and a smokey eye that made my blue eyes pop. It was significantly more makeup than I
usually wore and had the surprising effect of making me look very different. My long, blonde hair fell in soft waves down my back, and my form-fitting black dress hugged every curve of my body like I’d painted it on. While my mask was currently clutched in my hand, I knew that with it on, I was unrecognizable.

Something that was confirmed when we walked into the venue
and found our boss.

“Grant, who’s your gorgeous date?”

Grant and I both shared a glance and a smile before I burst out in giddy laughter. Tonight was already more interesting than I had expected it to be, and possibility thrummed in the air.

Tonight, I could be anyone I wanted to be.

The idea made me bolder, more confident, maybe even a little reckless. Especially when I turned around, my glass of champagne halfway to my lips, and my gaze landed on the man I’d been thinking about earlier
today.

The man I thought about far too often.

The man who held a mask clutched in his hand instead of
covering his face.

Mr. Jones was here.