Javier

You had known Javier Moreno for almost as long as you could remember.

As your father's closest friend, he had always been around. Family holidays, birthday dinners, business events, Sunday barbecues—if your father was there, Javier usually wasn't far behind.

He was everything your father trusted someone to be. Dependable, patient, successful, and fiercely loyal, he had spent years building a friendship that neither of them imagined could ever be broken.

To him, you had simply been his best friend's daughter.

At least, that was how it had started.

As you grew older, the relationship shifted in ways neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Conversations became longer, lingering glances became harder to ignore, and innocent moments somehow began carrying weight neither of you knew what to do with.

It wasn't sudden attraction that drew you together. Javier had watched you grow into yourself over the years, and somewhere along the way, he realised he knew you better than almost anyone else.

He knew how you scrunched your nose when concentrating, how you absentmindedly hummed while cooking, and how you always smiled first whenever someone else looked uncomfortable.

You had dated before, but nothing ever seemed to last.

You were always the one putting in more effort, the one sending the first message, planning the dates, or asking if everything was okay whenever someone became distant.

Most men your age seemed content with doing the bare minimum, expecting your affection while rarely offering the same in return.

More than once, you had been told you expected too much from people, eventually convincing yourself that perhaps wanting consistency, affection, and someone who genuinely showed up for you was simply unrealistic.

Javier noticed.

He noticed how often you smiled through disappointment, how easily you brushed things aside, and how rarely anyone seemed to give you the same attention you offered them.

Without ever meaning to, he became the person who did.

He listened when you spoke, noticed when something was bothering you before you admitted it yourself, and found himself looking for excuses to make your life just a little easier, long before he ever realised why.

He hated that he noticed.

The age difference alone was enough to make whatever existed between you inappropriate. Adding the fact that he was your father's closest friend made it unthinkable.

So he kept his distance.

When your father invited him over, Javier made a point of leaving rooms you walked into. If conversations lasted longer than they should, he found an excuse to end them.

None of it worked. It only made every accidental moment together feel heavier.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. A conversation lasted too long. A hand brushed against another. One stolen kiss became two.

Then neither of you remembered who had crossed the line first.

What started as something neither of you intended quickly became something neither of you could stop.

You met wherever you knew your father wouldn't be, convincing yourselves each time that it would be the last before finding another excuse to see one another again.

Javier carried the guilt more heavily than you did.

Every lie he told your father sat like a weight in his chest. Every time your father thanked him for looking out for you or joked that he trusted Javier with his life, it became harder to meet his eyes.

He told himself he should end it. He tried more than once.

Yet every time he saw you, every carefully rehearsed speech disappeared before he managed to say a word. He could hardly keep his hands off you when you were near, wanting to hear all about your day.

The secrecy became routine.

Lingering in empty hallways after family dinners, or meeting on quiet evenings under the excuse of running errands.

The stolen kisses mattered, but so did the conversations that lasted for hours, the quiet drives with no destination, and the feeling that, for the first time, neither of you had to ask the other to care.

One night in particular, though, he had promised you a gift before picking you up. It was an 'early birthday present', he claimed, knowing it was was coming up soon.

It was a beautiful matching set of lingerie in your favourite colour. Of course he remembered. He claimed they were an especially special pair of underwear.

And of course he knew you'd wear them on your birthday.

When the big day finally rolled around, you had a birthday dinner planned in your favourite restaurant with some family and friends. Javier was, obviously, included in that bunch.

He'd spotted the familiar bra strap when he first gave you a hug, realising that you had infact been wearing the lingerie set. Contentment settles within him.

You head to the bathroom at some point, Javier waiting outside for you. He tugs you into the darkness, gaze flickering over your outfit for what felt like the 20th time tonight.

"You look stunning." He grumbles quietly, his fingers adjusting your skirt. He pulls it down slightly, covering more of your skin in a protective sense. "I have a special surprise for you tonight, gorgeous."

Without another word spoken, he shoots you a brief smile and a wink before leading you both back to the large table full of guests. You take your seat at the top, shooting them all a beaming smile.

Though, it drops suddenly. Your breath hitches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing together just slightly to form a crease between them as you finally felt it.

The underwear. Lightly vibrating between your legs, sending a shiver running up your spine. Your gaze immediately darts to Javier at the other end of the table.

His gaze is intense, keeping his expression neutral to ensure nobody suspected anything. Your phone buzzes atop of the table.

Keep quiet, sweetheart. Wouldn't want daddy finding out, would we?

Letting out a shaky breath, your gaze falls onto your father nearby. He's laughing happily, hardly noticing a thing. And thankfully, not noticing the small clicker in Javier's grasp beneath the table, controlling each vibration.

Oh, Javier had most definitely been the most exciting man you'd met in your life.

The low hum of conversation and clinking glasses hum from the back yard, crickets chirping nearby in synchronization with the water lapping from the pool.

Your dad couldn't have asked for a better birthday.

He was not a flashy guy, he'd much prefer the company of family and friends for a nice barbeque; followed by some celebratory drinks to finish off the night.

The view from your bedroom window portrayed the night perfectly, the best viewpoint.

Maybe that's why Javier chose to fuck you right against it.

Javier had been your dads friend for a couple of years now. You hadn't known him since childhood, no, but since early adolescent years that you spent crushing on him in ways you shouldn't have.

You weren't sure why you ended up that way; enjoying the company of an older man, the look of them, the experience in them. When your friends liked a character from a show, you usually preferred their dad.

Javier Moreno ticked all those boxes for you.

Tall, standing at around 6'4, carrying muscles that no man in his late thirties could have unless they were consistent. Dark hair, a stubbled jaw that was always perfectly groomed; and a fine-line tattoo behind his left ear.

A couple of months ago, your parents had invited him to your winter cabin alongside some of their other friends before Christmas as a nice gesture.

You tried your first eggnog, liked it a little too much, and ended up on a pretty tipsy Javier in the loungeroom. Everyone had gone to bed, and you'd made the bad decision to kiss him.

Not that it wasn't mutual. Oh, it was mutual—but the next day, he made it clear nothing like that would ever happen again. You're too young, you're his best friends daughter, for Christ's sake.

And nothing did happen. For a while, at least.

Other than when you'd 'accidentally' drop something in front of him in your shortest skirt and bend over to grab it. Or when you'd leave your bedroom door open just a crack whilst sitting in your sexiest pyjamas, aware of the fact he was visiting.

He was an honourable and resilient man, traits many people praised him for. But he was also still a man. A 36 year old man who no woman could catch the eye of.

Your dad's birthday party was when he snapped.

He'd arrived pretty late, as-per, and handed your dad a cold 6-pack and a card to celebrate his day. Whilst your dad thanked him with a hug, over his shoulder, he caught glance of you.

Skin wet and glistening from previously being in the pool, laid back against one of the loungers in one of the sexiest bikinis he'd ever seen in his life.

That was the first time he found himself adjusting his swim shorts. Then came the hot tub.

Later on in the evening, you wanted to show off the new hot tub. After all, Javier was still someone you've known for years, you two didn't exactly avoid eachother over one drunken kiss.

Though, when your foot brushed his leg in the hot, bubbling water, his gaze darkened on yours. No words were exchanged, only the nearby chatter of familiar people.

When you mentioned going to change out of your bikini, he watched as you disappeared into the house. His knee bounced where he sat, taking a heavy sip from his beer bottle.

A la mierda con esto.

He mutters some excuse that he needs to use the restroom, and made his way up the stairs. You'd been doing that shit all night.

You wanted attention? You'd get some fucking attention.

And that's exactly how you've ended up in this position. It took only a few minutes of foreplay before he tore that bikini from your body, his tongue moving against yours with precision.

Next thing you knew, he had you pressed against the window. From here, you could see the entire small party of people, saying cheers and laughing.

Your heart is racing. What if they see you? What if daddy sees you? Excitement rushes through your veins, whilst anxiety and embarrassment flushes in your cheeks.

But when he slips right inside of you from behind, fingers sliding right into your mouth to keep you quiet; all rational thinking goes to hell.

His free hand grasps your hip, thrusting forward just once with a deep stroke. His fingers muffle the moan erupting from your throat, your lips closing around them to silence yourself.

"This is what you wanted, no?" He groans lowly in your ear, hot breath grazing its shell. "Acting like a little slut all day, trying to catch my eyes."

Planting a kiss right behind your ear, he reaches up and wraps your hair in his hand before finally murmuring; "You got me, tesoro."