My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 90 NO!

NOVA POV

I tossed for the seventy-seventh time, not that I was counting, but sleep isn’t coming forth. Grant’s relaxed breathing was a clear indication that he’s enjoying his sleep, and his hands found my waist to pull me to him every few minutes as if he was scared I would run away.

While this was cute to experience, it was also an inconvenience bearing the fact that I don’t feel sleepy and I’m wide awake like it’s midday.

The faint hum of the air conditioner did nothing to lull me to sleep, neither did the fact that I’ve orgasmed more times than I can count before Grant slept off.

An idle mind breeds evil thoughts. I knew if I should continue like this, I might overthink things and go back to the experience Grant had been trying to distract me from thinking about.

My kindle shouldn’t be far away. I took it alongside my headset and moved to the kitchen to indulge in ice cream while I read my favorite literary fictions.

The kitchen was dark except for the light from the fridge when I opened it. The cold air hit my bare legs. I was still only wearing Grant’s shirt and nothing else. I grabbed the pint of salted caramel and a spoon, settling onto one of the bar stools.

My kindle lit up, showing the romance novel I’d been reading before everything went to shit. The heroine was dealing with her own trauma, and suddenly it felt too close, too real. I switched to something lighter like a rom-com that promised laughs and no kidnapping scenes.

"You left your man for your kindle?" His voice came out of the dark and I was temporarily shocked. I wasn’t expecting him to notice me gone, but it seems he was more of a light sleeper than I thought.

"Talk about priorities," I teased him, watching as he emerged from the shadows. He was shirtless, wearing only his boxer briefs that hung low on his hips. Even sleep-rumpled and annoyed, the man looked like a walking wet dream.

"You could not sleep. Why?" It was a sure statement. He knew as much as I tried that I’ve had trouble sleeping, and I saw no reason to lie.

"I was hoping this ice cream and a few hours with my kindle would help," I explained, taking another spoonful. The cold sweetness melted on my tongue but did nothing to ease the restlessness in my chest.

"So far, do you think it has helped?"

"No," I told him the truth.

He walked closer, his bare feet silent on the marble floor. When he reached me, he took the spoon from my hand and helped himself to a bite of my ice cream.

"Let’s watch a movie," I said.

"Let’s play a game," he said.

We both talked at the same time. I definitely didn’t see that coming. My eyes met with his before we both burst into a comfortable laughter.

"Let’s do both then. Let’s start with your movie, but please don’t pick anything pink. I would throw up." He added the last part dryly, and I was tempted to laugh, but I wanted him to marinate in dread a little longer.

The time slowly ticked by as we binge-watched a couple of Grey’s Anatomy episodes as well as a recently released series on Netflix. Soon it was 7 a.m. and with the look of things, none of us would be doing anything sleep-related. It’s a new day already.

We’d moved to the movie room, a space I’d barely spent time in since arriving at the estate. The massive screen took up one entire wall, and the plush recliners were more comfortable than most beds. Grant had his arm around me, and I was curled into his side, finally feeling some of that restlessness ease.

"Don’t you have anywhere to be this morning?" I asked when we finished the episode we were watching.

"If this is your way of distracting me so you can pick the next dreadful movie, it’s a no. I’m doing the picking."

I shook my head in mock pity.

"I’m actually concerned about your schedule," I said.

"I think you should be more concerned about the state of your pussy after this particular movie."

Now that definitely had my attention, and any thought of his schedule evaporated from my mind when the first clip of the movie rolled in and it was two guys fucking a sexy, over-endowed Barbie. The settings as well as everything of color around them was a bright, over-dramatic shade of pink.

"Ohhhh... I think you downloaded the wrong Barbie." I’m convinced there must be an error somewhere.

"No, I think it’s the right Barbie for my own Barbie," he answered with a self-awareness that could rival that of a king.

"Cheesy. Cringey." I mocked, clutching my imaginary pearls.

"Say what you like, but we would be practicing every one of the scenes in this movie," he said with his authoritative tone that left no room for doubt.

I looked behind him, faking nonchalance like I’m looking for something or rather, someone.

"What?" He asked after seconds of me looking around the room wildly.

"I’m looking for the other guy I’m supposed to practice—" My words were cut short as he lifted me with one hand under my knee and the second hand behind my neck.

"Don’t complete that statement." His mouth covered mine, cutting off any protest. He raised his head up again, meeting my gaze head-on. "I’m more efficient than ten guys put together."

Well, who am I to argue when his bulge is already brushing my side from our position?

"First off, I’m to worship your pussy like the goddess that she is," he said, dropping me on one of the very comfortable cushions in the movie room before kneeling between my spread legs.

"Which goddess would that be?" I couldn’t resist teasing him.

"Goddess of moisture—" He paused. "That doesn’t sound right. The goddess of water is more appropriate."

I rolled my head back in a deep laugh that was cut short as soon as his mouth covered my sensitive pussy without any warning. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"Fuck, Grant!" My hands went on their own accord to bury themselves in his hair while my feet drew his head closer to my core.

"More," I moaned softly, feeling his tongue invading me in all parts of my body. "Give me more." I whined slowly against his tongue, and he didn’t make it any easier when his finger dipped inside of me.

Double the thrust, double the sensation, and fuck! double the speed.

Soon the TV voice was a background blur as my moans filled the room, and Grant didn’t take it any easier on me. His tongue worked magic, alternating between slow, teasing licks and fast, focused attention on my clit.

His finger—now fingers—pumped in and out of me in a rhythm that had my toes curling.

"Fuck. I’m dying, babe." A voice that didn’t sound anything like mine croaked out. He paused briefly, only to speak against my already quivering pussy.

"No, you’re just starting to live." And he dove back in where he stopped, and I swear I could feel his tongue brushing against my womb. I just can’t explain it, but I can feel it.

"Grant... Grant... babe... more... Grant." The words continued to jumble out of my mouth, and all I could hear was my own voice. But it felt like there was another voice.

I paused, trying to be sure it’s still the TV, but right behind Grant was the last person I expected to see—smiling fakely at me. From the look of things, Grant didn’t know we had a problem. He was still lapping me up.

"Grant," I said, trying to get his attention.

"No. It’s babe or Daddy to you," he said before diving right back in.

"Really?" The visitor said in a loud voice, not bothering to lower her tone. This time Grant did turn around, and it’s safe to say he was as frozen in shock as I was.

"Call you Daddy?" She said again in disbelief, her perfectly manicured hand coming to rest on her hip.