The Girl He Shouldn't Desire: His Best Friend's Daughter

Chapter 5: Poison

I moaned out as his lips met the space where my shoulder and neck met, and he nibbled on it. I squirmed and twirled under him, grinding my hips and upper body against him for friction.

“Oh f**k, fuck...” I gasped as his fingers applied pressure on my swollen clit, rubbing me with a sure touch while thrusting into me. “Jace...” I breathed, opening my eyes, which were glazed with lust, to gaze up into the intense amber eyes above me.

“Let go, baby,” Jace whispered as he rocked his lower body, plunging into me faster, deeper, and harder. His thrusts grew more frantic. His compelling eyes, which were dilated from breath-stealing bliss, never left my lust-filled eyes even once. “Come for me.”

My eyes snapped open, and I turned around in bed, coiling myself into a ball. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Jace in a dream. Nor was this the first time he had touched me and had his way with me. It started when I was seventeen, and it has integrated since then. Now, I see him at least three times a month, coming to take me like I was his and no one else’s.

I could never say no. He was my weakness, and he knew it. At least in my dream.

Most mornings, I’d wake up a wet mess, panting and sensitive, longing to be touched. The man who did this to me, however, was far away and didn’t even know what he did.

After his marriage to Janet three years ago, the dreams ended, and for those three years, I no longer saw them despite my lingering feelings for him.

However, the dreams came back stronger three months ago. I’d go to bed most nights, knowing he would come into my subconscious mind to take what was his.

Three years ago, before he got married, my counsellor told me about the psychological effect of these dreams with the same person after I admitted the truth to her. She advised me to take control of my mind because this could leave me trapped and unable to move on. After the dream stopped when he got married, I thought that was the end, but alas, it wasn’t.

I doubt I had the strength to control this...

“When did you return?” Jordan asked over the phone, his tone sounding almost like a squeal.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at how dramatic he could get sometimes. I didn’t expect him to change, though I loved him the way he was.

“Yesterday.”

“And you are only notifying me now, uh? Is that how our friendship is now? Who had your back when your father wouldn’t let you leave for Oxford? Who had to beg and stand on your behalf?”

Trust Jordan to take exaggeration to the next level.

I laughed and played along. “You did.”

“You bet your ass I did. I deserve more than you are giving me, Estelle Biggs.”

“For that, I’m sorry.” I said, “I was going to invite you to lunch today. Will that be enough to make it up?”

“Where are we going?” He tried to place little interest in his voice, but I still noticed the trace of it.

“Your favourite, Dominos.”

“Oh, you’re trying to buy my forgiveness, I see.”

“Is it working?”

“We’ll see.” He said, and I knew he had a grumpy look on his face.

I chuckled and said, “Okay, see you by one. Be ready before I come. Okay?”

A knock came on my door, and I stopped speaking, waiting for whoever was at the door to speak. “Ms Biggs, breakfast is ready. Your father wants you to come downstairs.” Gloria informed me.

“I will be down in a minute.”

“Okay,” she said, and I heard her footstep departing from the door.

I pulled myself off the bed and soon made my way downstairs. I found Lyon already seated at the table with a newspaper in his hand; his attention was fixated on what he was reading, and he had yet to start eating.

“Good morning, dad,” I said, and this brought his attention over to me.

“Good morning, Elle. I hope your first night back was good.” He raised a brow.

I nodded, feeling vibrant and stretching for emphasis. “I did. Sorry, I kept you waiting.”

“It’s fine. I kept myself occupied with a little business review.” He folded the newspaper in his hand and placed it on the table beside his cup. “Let’s not keep the food waiting any longer; come, let’s eat.”

I sat down and, without hesitation, reached for a piece of bread on the plate before me to eat.

I noticed Lyon’s gaze on me, and I turned to find him carefully staring at me. “You didn’t pray; you used to pray.”

I dropped the loaf of bread on the plate awkwardly and stared at him, not knowing how to respond. I used to pray when I was home, but after leaving for the university, you can say I wandered off. I wasn’t proud of that, but I was way past the point of return.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” I apologised, my head dropping, and as I stayed silent, he mumbled a quick prayer, and we both said amen.

After eating, Lyon wiped his mouth with the tablecloth and spoke. “I spoke with your grandmother and grandfather. They might come visiting in the coming week.”

“Okay, how long will they stay with us?”

“I haven’t discussed that with them yet. Will their presence be a problem?”

“Not sure.” I got up from the chair and made my way into the room.

I showered and got ready for my lunch date with Jordan. I decided to get dressed in my blue high-waisted jeans and a white crop top that revealed a little flesh in my belly region. It was a sunny weekend, and the weather here as compared to Oxford was hotter, so I needed to wear something that would not cause me too much discomfort.

I applied a bit of makeup to my face and applied nude lipstick to my lips. I stared at myself in the mirror one last time before walking out of the room.

I ran into Lyon in the garden with a different newspaper, and this time it was politics, and for a man in his thirties, he acted as if he were in his fifties with his quest for knowledge.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, despite not dropping that newspaper in his hand or looking up.

“I’ve got a lunch date.”

His head lifted and his eyes came to rest on me, and he slowly took what I wore in from head to toe. “With a boy?” He raised a brow at me, and I knew where he was already going with that question.

I nodded, “With Jordan. He is a friend from secondary school.” I clarified.

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, but he stayed silent. “How long will you stay out?”

“It’s lunch with an old friend, not dinner with a person of interest. It should only take a few hours. I know you’re curious, but I am an adult.”

He raised his hands in surrender and picked the keys of his Prado Jeep onto the stool before him, tossing them to me. I caught it in my grasp and stared at him.

“There shouldn’t be a scratch on it when you bring it back.” He said it, a smile coming into his face for a second before disappearing.

My smile came wide on my face. “Thank you, dad.”

Meeting Jordan for the first time in three years brought back memories, and the memories sparked up happy feelings throughout. We hugged and acted like lovers, meeting ourselves for the first time in a long time. But we weren’t lovers; we were just two friends who hadn’t seen each other since graduation. The few passersby didn’t know that, and they gave us a look of admiration.

Jordan was much bigger and taller than the last time I saw him, and he engulfed me with his manly smell and his enormous arms, squeezing the life out of me. I panted for air as he set me down on the ground, and I fought to steady my feet.

A lot had changed about my secondary school friend. Unlike the low cut he had kept throughout his senior secondary years, he now had a coloured dreadlock about ten inches long on his head. His facial structure had also changed dramatically because he now grew much facial hair. This boy-turned-young man now had an image completely different from the one I used to know. It was good for him; it gave him a mature and good-looking look. He also seemed to have developed a habit of going to the gym in the last three years, and his shoulders and exposed arms attested to that fact. It was a good look on him, and I could not get enough.

“Estelle Biggs!” he called out, giving me a dramatic look from head to toe.

“Jordan Ortega,” I answered, returning the same gesture he made.

He pressed his lips together, looking impressed at whatever he saw. “We have so much to talk about.”

We sat, and after we placed our orders, we dived into filling up on the years we had missed out on. Jordan had pursued a course in architecture just like his father had, after having time to think about it. I also fed him all the details of the three years I had been away.

“So the million-dollar question is, do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, his brow rising with interest.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t have anyone at the moment.” I said, and just then, the door opened, and in walked Jace hand in hand with a tall, pretty blonde girl, wearing a red flay gown that stopped mid-thigh and a pair of black stiletto heels that placed her long, gorgeous legs on display.