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My Father’s Best Friend’s Secret Baby
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I shouldn’t want her.
I was injured at war and discharged from the military.
What will her dad do if he finds out I put a baby in her?
My Father’s Best Friend’s Secret Baby is a full length 75,000 word standalone novel. Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!
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I shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts about James’s daughter.
But, she was so damn hot. And she had been practically throwing herself at me. Those hips, those lips, those eyes… it was as if she was begging me to do what I wanted, which was to bend her over my lap and spank her ass for being such a bad girl, and then thrust my dick deep inside her mouth.
Her father James was the only good friend I had these days, and he had been ever since I so desperately needed one. After I was injured at war and discharged from duty, he’d taken me to his house and let me stay with him even though he had only been my commanding officer. We’d grown close, both due to the gratefulness I’d felt for him and the bond we’d shared as he’d helped me get back on my feet.
Fucking his daughter was no way to repay him for his kindness— even though it was clear she wanted me to take her for her very first time. Sure, she was an adult and seemed to know exactly what she wanted— which was very obviously me. And I wanted to take her— every which way I could.
From behind, while she was on all fours calling out my name and I was pulling her hair. From on top, while I was looking into those pretty eyes she liked to bat so innocently at me. From underneath her, so that she could spread those legs wide and let me all the way into her tiny, tight, wet little pussy.
I couldn’t do it. Could I? It could have all sorts of negative consequences. James would no doubt kick me out of his house. And what if I knocked her up? She had her whole life ahead of her, and mine had just been unexpectedly derailed.
I had to fucking control myself. But could I? Not with those curvy hips of hers walking in front of me, while she was dressed only in her bikini, begging me to come for a swim with her. Swim with her? I wanted to swim in her. And I always got what I wanted.
“Hope the chicken isn’t too spicy for you,” said James, looking over at me while I absentmindedly scraped my food around on my plate. I was so lost in thought, I almost forgot where I was.
I was still trying to process everything. So much had happened. I knew that, all things considered, I was very lucky. Too bad that lucky felt so fucking shitty.
I shifted in my chair to try to relieve some of the pressure from my hip. I winced at a sharp pain shooting from my toes up my leg.
I had been an aircraft mechanic in the Air Force for about eighteen years. Some people have looked at that as “not shit” since I wasn’t in direct combat much, but for me, it let me do what I loved while still serving our country.
I was a self-taught mechanic, learning everything I knew as a young kid working on the cars of friends, family, neighbors, basically anyone within a ten-mile radius who would let me near their car. People would remark with amazement when their car was fixed using little or no parts, and drove better than it had before it needed work done on it. News traveled fast about the teenage boy who could fix cars and did it for next to nothing, sometimes even for free.
I vividly remember a lady walking up to my house, looking nervous and afraid.
“B-Br-Brad?” she asked quietly.
“’Yeah,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
Wringing her hands and glancing around nervously, she continued, but in a language I did not understand. It wasn’t Spanish or French or any of the languages I’d heard in school. Might’ve been Hungarian.
“I’m sorry, ma’am…” I remember extending out my hand slowly, with caution.
She was so scared. It was then I realized her body was wrapped in some unusual garment I’d never seen before. I couldn’t tell if it was one of those fashionista things or one of those National Geographic things. The sadness in her eyes touched my heart.
“C-Caaar? Car? Help?” she asked in an unsure voice.
“Sure, I’ll help you. Let me give you a ride to wherever your car is.”
As I said it, I made a motion with one of my arms as if I was using a steering wheel to drive, while gesturing at her with my other arm to come with me. She understood what I was saying and lit up right away, smiling.
We drove the mile to where her car was and I saw what was wrong right away. Her car had overheated and needed coolant. I drove her over to the gas station and she bought some. I put it in her car, had her start the car, and after a few minutes, her engine sounded better and she was ready to go.