I Want My Best Friend’s Dad

The Bait at the Pool

Chapter 4

Damian POV

You likely think I’m an absolute monster. An arrogant, crazy bastard who has no right to be looking at a nineteen-year-old girl the way I do, let alone the girl who is old enough to be my daughter. Go ahead. Judge me all you want. Call me a sinner. But if you saw the way Aria looked at me, the way she practically breathes invitation into the air every time she enters a room, you’d realize I’m not the predator here.

She is. And I am dangerously close to letting her catch me.

Ever since last night at the dining table, my mind has been completely shot. The memory of her bare, smooth leg sliding up my calf under the tablecloth, her eyes glazing over as she literally made herself orgasm right in front of my wife, has been playing on a loop in my head. My co*k was rock-hard the entire night, throbbing violently against my zipper, and it hasn't let up since. I am a billionaire. I command empires. But a teenager in a backless dress has me gripped by the throat, and the worst part is, she knows it.

Which brings us to this morning by the penthouse pool.

Victoria was inside talking to the chef, completely oblivious as usual. I was sitting on a lounger under the shade, pretending to read through a financial report on my tablet, but my eyes were entirely fixed on Aria.

God, she was doing this on purpose. She had to be.

She was walking toward the side of the infinity pool, and the bikini she was wearing was an absolute crime. It was a tiny, neon pink string bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The top was so small her breasts were literally pumping and spilling out of the fabric, her n*****s were straining against the thin material as she walked. Every time she took a step, the strings on her hips shifted, showing the smooth curve of her waist and the wet, sparkling skin from the Monaco heat.

My mouth went completely dry. My co*k slammed against my jeans so hard it was physically painful. I wanted to stand up, throw that tablet into the Mediterranean, grab her by those soft hips, and fu*k the absolute brains out of her right there on the heated deck. I wanted to rip that pink string off her body and make her scream my name until the neighbors heard. But I clenched my jaw, my knuckles turning red against the tablet, forcing myself to stay firmly in place.

Aria glanced over, catching me staring. A slow, wicked smirk spread across her plump lips. She didn't look away. Instead, she deliberately adjusted her top, making her breasts pop even more, before she started walking straight toward my lounger.

Each of her steps felt like a countdown to my utter ruin.

"Mr. Damian," she purred, stopping right in front of me. The scent of her vanilla lotion and warm, sun-baked skin filled my nose, with the throb between my legs. She leaned down slightly, her pumping breasts practically hovering inches from my face. "You look so serious. Are you always working, even in Monaco?"

"Business doesn't stop, Aria," I said, my voice coming out in a deep, gravelly baritone that sounded far too rough. I was fighting with everything I had to keep my hands at my sides.

"That's a shame," she whispered, her eyes dropping to my lips. Suddenly, she reached her small, soft hand out toward my face. "Oh... hold still for a second."

I blinked, my body freezing. "What are you doing?"

"Mr. Damian, please let me remove something from your face," she murmured, her thumb brushing against my jawline. Her skin was electric. It sent a violent jolt of fire straight down to my groin. "It's nothing important. Just a little stray feather from the outdoor pillows. Let me get it."

"Come on," I muttered, my chest heaving as I tried to pull back slightly, though every primal instinct in my body was screaming at me to grab her wrist and pull her onto my lap. "Aria, it's fine. Leave it."

"No, it's okay, Damian. I've got it," she said softly, hanging her finger on my skin a second too long, and her thumb tracing the edge of my lip.

My brain completely short-circuited. She had just dropped the "Mr."

She called me ‘Damian’.

"What did you just call him?"

The harsh, furious voice made her drop her hands quickly. Aria took a deep breath, turning around with a perfectly innocent expression, though I could see the wicked amusement dancing in her eyes. Standing at the glass doors of the pool deck was Harper. Her face was completely contorted with rage, her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she glared at Aria.

"Harper, babe! I was just helping your dad," Aria said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "He had something on his face."

"You called him Damian," Harper hissed, stepping onto the deck, her eyes were wild with a strange, toxic jealousy that seemed entirely too intense and protective. "He is my father, Aria. You don't call him by his first name. Who do you think you are?"

"It was just a slip of the tongue, right?" Aria turned back to look at me, a highly seductive, unrepentant smile played on her lips. She didn't look scared at all. She looked thrilled. “Stop overrating, girlfriend,” she said, smiling and dismissing Harper’s angry expression.

“Please, don't do that again,” Harper warned and turned. She was already walking away when Aria

leaned down just an inch closer to me. My co*k throbbing painfully against my denim, looking at Aria’s bubbling breast.

"Actually, Mr. Damian... since we're going to be spending so much time together this summer, please can I have your private number? You know, just in case Harper and her mom go out and I need to reach you directly?"