Filed to story: Young Girls Forbidden Love Series: My Best Friend’s Daddy
This would have to be the end.
I woke up a few hours later, and Michael was still awake. I knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted me again.
My instincts said no, we shouldn’t do this again, but the fact that we had already made love once, and the night wasn’t over, spurred me on. Before I could stop myself, I was mounting him, and with him buried deep within me, I rocked my hips, letting that feeling of euphoria wash over me again.
We continued to make love for hours until we were both exhausted. Finally, I began to fall back to sleep and settled next to him, but my mind was too busy to let me fall asleep completely.
I watched the look in Michael’s eyes as he looked over at me. My breath slowly started to settle back to an average pace. He stared at me as though he couldn’t look away.
The soft glow of early morning dusted the starlit sky. He kissed my lips so softly I wasn’t sure if it was real or if the entire steamy night had been a dream.
He laid his head back on one of the many pillows and closed his eyes. A small hint of a smile still lingered on his lips.
Michael wrapped a soft blanket around my naked body in a protective way. I melted into his side and could feel his heartbeat syncing with my own. I listened to the steady rhythm of his breaths until they slowed. I knew he had fallen asleep.
Despite the heaviness of my eyelids, my mind didn’t want to rest.
Michael had a way about him that made me feel safe, wanted, and, dare I think it, loved. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. This one night with Michael put three years with Todd to shame. I couldn’t see myself ever finding any man as wonderful as Michael again.
I felt a piece of my heart break, knowing this couldn’t last… that I wouldn’t let this last. Knowing that everyone in Michael’s life would make sure that we wouldn’t even get a chance to try. I didn’t want the ugliness of reality to ruin the perfect night we had shared.
Michael was right. If we were only going to have one night together, we needed to make it count.
Rather than giving in to my thoughts, I closed my eyes and fell asleep in his arms.
*Shelby*
When I woke up, it took me a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the morning light streaming through the skylight. I was at Michael’s house, in his bed. The smell of his sandalwood cologne lingered on my skin and the silky sheets. I rolled to my side and realized that I was alone.
I sat straight upright, holding the sheets to my bare chest, as I looked around the room. The door was cracked open, and I could hear the clinking of dishes coming from down the hall.
I draped my legs over the side of the bed, scanning the floor. After an unsuccessful search, I realized my clothes were still on the balcony. I made my way into what I assumed was Michael’s ensuite, pulled one of his shirts from the closet, and slipped it over my shoulders.
After rinsing my face in the sink, washing away yesterday’s makeup, I silently made my way down the hall back to the kitchen.
Michael was humming a light tune while he was scrambling eggs in a frying pan. I stood and watched him as he continued cooking, humming to himself, and occasionally smiling. My heart lifted at the thought that those smiles were for me.
“Good morning,” I said in a lighthearted tone, pretending as though I hadn’t been watching him.
“A very good morning,” Michael answered with a small wink.
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this. I couldn’t seem to find my clothes this morning.”
Michael laughed and split the scrambled eggs onto two plates.
“It looks a lot better on you. You can borrow it anytime you like,” he said not taking his eyes off of me.
“Oh wow, you cook too. What can’t you do, Michael?” I asked and took a bite of eggs into my mouth.
Michael pulled out a paper bag full of pastries and placed each one carefully on a plate.
“Eggs are just about the only thing I can cook. I usually have a black cup of coffee on my way out the door, so my cook doesn’t come until later. I always like to keep a few of these on hand, from the bakery down the street.”
Michael passed me the plate full of pastries and I picked out a fluffy croissant. When it was just Michael and me it was easy to forget that he was insanely wealthy and amenities such as personal chefs were his norm.
“I would love a cup of that black coffee if you have it on hand.” I smiled and broke the croissant in half inhaling the buttery scent.
“How did you sleep?” Michael asked, pouring me a mug full of coffee.
“I slept amazingly. You’ll have to tell me where you got your sheets. They are so soft,” I teased and hoped I didn’t blush.
Michael chuckled and sat down next to me, placing the coffee in front of me. He brushed back a piece of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. The simple action sent another wave of heat through me, and I had to remind myself not to get used to this. I swallowed hard.
“How did you sleep?” I asked.
“The best night’s sleep I have gotten in a long time,” he said with a smirk and a glance in my direction.
I felt my cheeks burn at his insinuation.
“Me too,” I admitted, thinking about how great it felt just to sleep next to him.
I took a sip of the steaming coffee and continued working on my plate.
“So what have you been up to since I last saw you?” Michael asked as though I had not run away without saying goodbye.
“I have just been packing up the apartment and trying to remember everything I need to do before the move.”
“Did you get everything taken care of that you needed to? “
“Yeah for the most part,” I said, glancing at him. I couldn’t stop thinking about our night together.
“Have you gotten everything packed?” he asked with a hint of sadness in his voice, keeping his eyes on his food.
“Not everything, I am close, but I still have a few more things to sort out.”
“I would offer to come to help you if I didn’t have to work today. I have a meeting with investors, which I can’t get out of.”
“Oh, no I would never ask you to miss work. I will just call a cab,” I said quickly.
“Nonsense. I will have my driver take you home.”
Michael helped me collect my clothes from the balcony and I used his bathroom to freshen up before he walked me downstairs. The same black car was waiting for me on the street in view of the lobby.
“I will call you later, Shelby. I promise,” Michael said.
I nodded and looked up into his eyes with a small smile. Michael bent down and touched my lips to his. The kiss was soft and sweet; the heat lingered on my lips as the car pulled away from Michael standing on the sidewalk, watching me leave.
The drive went fast on the way back to my apartment because I kept replaying the events of my night with Michael over and over again. I could feel my face had flushed by the time we pulled up to my building and Michael’s driver opened my door for me.