Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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The bathroom door swung open, revealing Richard with nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Water droplets still glistened on his toned torso—the kind of physique that didn't happen by accident. For a man his age, he was ridiculously fit, not an ounce of softness anywhere.
My throat went dry. "Uncle, I—I just need to grab something from in there."
He smirked, dangling my lace panties from his finger. "This what you're looking for?"
Heat rushed to my cheeks as I snatched them, only to realize they were slightly damp, carrying the clean scent of soap.
"Noticed them earlier and threw them in the wash," he said with a low laugh.
I mumbled a thanks, already turning to bolt—until my foot caught on nothing. A sharp jolt of pain shot through my ankle as I pitched forward.
Richard moved fast, his arms wrapping around me from behind. But in the scramble, his hands—warm, rough—grazed my chest.
He jerked back like he'd been burned, guilt flashing in his eyes. "Emily, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," I whispered, staring at the floor. My skin still tingled where he'd touched me. My pulse hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it.
So this was how it felt when the person you wanted more than anything accidentally brushed against you.
Since I could barely walk, Richard hauled me to his room to tend to my ankle. He knelt beside the bed, my foot propped on his thigh, and worked the ointment into the swollen skin with careful fingers. Moonlight spilled through the window, painting his focused expression in silver.
I watched him, breath caught in my throat.
If only I were older.
If only that meant he could want me back.
My throat went dry. "Uncle, I—I just need to grab something from in there."
He smirked, dangling my lace panties from his finger. "This what you're looking for?"
Heat rushed to my cheeks as I snatched them, only to realize they were slightly damp, carrying the clean scent of soap.
"Noticed them earlier and threw them in the wash," he said with a low laugh.
I mumbled a thanks, already turning to bolt—until my foot caught on nothing. A sharp jolt of pain shot through my ankle as I pitched forward.
Richard moved fast, his arms wrapping around me from behind. But in the scramble, his hands—warm, rough—grazed my chest.
He jerked back like he'd been burned, guilt flashing in his eyes. "Emily, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," I whispered, staring at the floor. My skin still tingled where he'd touched me. My pulse hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it.
So this was how it felt when the person you wanted more than anything accidentally brushed against you.
Since I could barely walk, Richard hauled me to his room to tend to my ankle. He knelt beside the bed, my foot propped on his thigh, and worked the ointment into the swollen skin with careful fingers. Moonlight spilled through the window, painting his focused expression in silver.
I watched him, breath caught in my throat.
If only I were older.
If only that meant he could want me back.
End of Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons book page.