One night stand with my brother's killer best friend

Olivia— Next time, f*cking knock

I drunkenly stumbled through his apartment to do his bidding. Competing thoughts fought for my attention as I approached his bedroom door.

Harmon wouldn't say that. He said no. He always said no.

He didn't say no last night. Sure sounded like him.

Was the voice I was hearing real or did I crave him so badly that I was drumming up delusions?

"Only one way to find out," I said to myself, laying my hand on the door knob of his bedroom door.

The yelling died down a while back, so the phone call was over. Wasn't it? Maybe he really had invited me into his bed after all. Maybe he needed comfort because he and Macy were really done this time.

Like this my drunken brain convinced me a good dicking awaited me on the other side of his bedroom door. The anticipation, the dire need to c*m, the booze. It was all going to my head.

"f**k it," I finally whispered, opening the door.

"Baby girl, yes. Just like that," Harmon's deep, relieved voice filled the room as he sighed with pleasure.

I froze in my tracks, once more uncertain he had asked for me. Too sensitive for another rejection despite my aching cunt, I stepped back. For all I knew, he and Macy were having phone s*x or something. On the verge of backing away and closing the door, his needy voice filled the room again.

"Touch daddy, baby girl. Don't stop. You feel so damn good," he said, confirming once more what he was doing to himself.

Sweet temptation. His d**k in his hand. Him fisting it. Was he thinking of me or her?

My heart pounded in my chest as I took one step forward, then another until I stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

My eyes having adjusted to the dark, with the aid of the light coming in from the living room I only just made out his muscular form spread out on the bed as his hand went to town on his d**k. I rubbed my thighs against each other, willing myself to turn around.

He doesn't want me I reminded myself. So why couldn't I leave?

"Good slutty p***y. Damn baby girl, daddy's never had anything this good before," he said and I lost it.

I just had to see. Not just vague outlines of his silhouette. I wanted a hard, long look at what I had inside me last night.

"Baby, I'm right here. You don't need your hand," I said, flipping the lightswitch on.

"Olive?" his strained voice called out to me.

For the first time in ten years, I saw shock register on Harmon's face as his d**k started shooting rope after rope of c*m.

It took me a moment to realize my body had started convulsing.

"Baby girl, get the f**k out," he yelled in his signature intimidating voice, but the words only made my body tremble more.

"I f*****g can't. I'm, I'm, s**t. I'm cuming," I said through gritted teeth, fighting the orgasm with everything in me.

It was no use. Too drunk. Too turned on. Too tired. Too fixated on his cuming d**k. My seizing form crumbled before him as I clung to the doorknob for dear life.

Our eyes met across the room. His panic-stricken face relaxed, his eyes burning with desire as we watched each other. He went back to stroking his still cuming d**k, one final "baby girl" leaving his parted lips.

"Yes daddy," I moaned, letting the euphoria flood my every nerve ending and take me over completely.

"Out. Now Olive. Baby girl, get out," he said, eyes tainted with lust despite his recent orgasm.

His voice was strained as he said the words, jumping out of bed a moment later to pick up his boxers off the floor.

"Baby girl," my drunken brain recalled as I forced the raspy words out.

"I'm serious Olive, get the f**k out," he said, much more composed as he dragged the underwear up his long legs. "I told you not to pull this shit."

He was livid, but he came over to check on me anyway. He squatted down before me with a sigh.

"Are you okay?" he asked more gently, cupping my cheek. "Let's get you to the bathroom and then bed. You look like you're going to be sick," he said, hesitant to touch me more because my body just wouldn't stop cuming for him. "s**t. Dammit, baby girl," he said softly, finally biting the bullet and picking me up.

There it was again. Baby girl.

"You said baby girl while you were jacking off, Harmon. Not baby. Not Mace. Baby girl. You don't call her that. You don't call anyone that. Do you, daddy? Not until now," I said, calling him out as he carried me through the halls of his apartment.

"Next time f*****g knock, baby girl," he said, grinning at me and shaking his head as I snuggled up to him.

Ruining the mood entirely once we got to the bathroom, I sat in front of the toilet and hurled for ages as he held back my hair.

"Drink," he said, crouching by my side when it was finally over, having temporarily left my side to get me a bottle of water.

Breathless and thoroughly grossed out by the idea of him seeing me this way, I was about to tell him to get out when he spoke first.

"Remember to lock up when you leave. Daddy will – I will likely be gone by then," he said and I couldn't hold back anymore.

I burst into tears as he shattered my hopes one more time.

"Daddy, don't leave without me," I cried as his arms came to surround me.