Inked By My Best Friend's Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  CONTENTS

  Inked By My Best Friend’s Dad

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  INKED BY MY BEST FRIEND’S DAD

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 283

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2022 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  INKED BY MY BEST FRIEND’S DAD

  Abby

  My best friend Tasha and her dad couldn’t be more different. Yeah, she’s got his height and good looks.

  But she hates tattoos.

  And her dad, Slade?

  Well, he’s the local ex-biker, kinda still bad boy who also just happens to be the local tattoo artist.

  And the sexiest man alive. Did I mention that part?

  He’s like… He’s just oh my god.

  So when I decide I want a tattoo, it’s my best friend’s dad who I want to do me.

  I mean to ink me.

  What I haven’t told Tasha, or her dad is that I’ve kinda had an obsessive crush on him since I can remember.

  A pressing need a girl might get in a certain part of her body?

  But I can’t tell my best friend the only reason I want a tattoo is so her dad will put his hands on me, can I.

  I mean, would an older guy like him even look twice at a thick, curvy younger girl like me?

  Especially the best friend of his only daughter.

  My mind is made up, I want Slade and I feel like I’m the only one thinking that way until I’m invited to his birthday party.

  But I don’t have a gift.

  I don’t have anything a man like Slade would want.

  Or do I?

  Slade

  Forty-two, and although I don’t look it, I'm feeling every year as I think about another year passing.

  Tasha, my daughter’s organized for some of the old gang to swing by. I have a hunch she has anyway, but she hasn’t mentioned it.

  When I call her up, she remembers what day it is. My daughter has always been a little scatterbrained.

  When she asks if her best friend can come along? Sure. I haven’t seen Abby since she graduated high school. She must be all grown up by now.

  But she hasn’t just gone and gotten all grown up.

  She’s fucking perfect.

  She’s my daughter’s best friend, and I’m forty-two. Old enough to be her dad.

  But it doesn’t stop me from thinking. And it doesn’t stop me from wanting.

  That special something or special someone I’ve been lacking all my life?

  She’s just come to the party but it feels like all my problems are solved.

  Until reality hits me.

  She’s my daughter's best friend and half my age.

  And to top it all off she’s telling me she wants a tattoo?

  No. I won’t ink her.

  She’s too young, her skin too smooth.

  She’s too god damned pure is what she is.

  If I speak my mind, or worse. If I act on my instincts, Tasha could lose a friend.

  But if I don’t do something, if I don’t stake my claim on what I can clearly see is mine, I could lose Abby forever.

  Only one way to find out, and I’ll be risking more than one broken heart if my gut’s wrong.

  But it’s never wrong, that’s how I know this is so right.

  We’ll deal with the fallout later.

  Because right now I’m falling for her, and hard.

  * Inked By My Best Friend’s Dad is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Abby

  “I’m nineteen Mom. Not a child anymore,” I remind her, trying not to sound like the child she thinks I am.

  She rarely says yes to anything. But this time she’s really put her foot down.

  She creases the side of her mouth and sighs to herself as she tries not to let her emotions show and fails.

  We don’t argue very often, and especially not in front of guests. Most of the time I let things go because I don’t want to be a burden to my mom. And as a single parent I know it's hard for her, but this is important to me.

  “Tasha? Try and talk some sense into your best friend, will you please?” she finally asks my best friend before gently closing my bedroom door.

  Ignoring me. The silent treatment.

  And this is the way it will be until I let the idea of getting a tattoo go.

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea… It’s crazy… Kids,” I can hear her murmur to herself as she makes her way back down the hall.

  Tasha makes a face as soon as we’re alone, which cuts through my residual anger. I struggle not to laugh as she twists and contorts her pretty face into something so hilarious we both laugh like maniacs.

  “She’s probably right though, and you shouldn’t be so hard on your mom,” Tasha says once we settle down, getting some breath back.

  I feel my eyes narrow before I roll them towards the ceiling.

  “I knew you’d take her side,” I huff, playfully tossing a pillow at Tasha’s head from where I’m sitting on the end of my bed.

  “Hey, watch the nails,” she cries, nursing her freshly polished toes.

  Her fingernails and then mine next are the plans for our afternoon.

  “It’s not that I’m taking sides either,” Tasha reasons, looking suddenly very serious. “It’s just, I dunno. Tatts are kinda gross. Lame. Everyone’s covered in them these days and it’s just boring,” she says, screwing her nose up for real this time.

  I’m a little, okay, a lot taken aback by her reaction. And her attitude.

  Of all the people in the world, I thought my bestie Tasha would be on board with my tattoo idea more than anyone.

  Including myself.

  Tasha always sticks up for me.


  But she’s always stuck up for my mom too. Maybe because she never knew her mother growing up.

  To balance that, I never knew my dad.

  But Tasha does have one of those.

  And although I’ve never kept anything from Tasha, the one thing she doesn’t know is just how big a crush I have on her dad.

  Ever since I can remember.

  And ever since I connected that crush to my own needs once I hit adulthood… Well, it’s become a kind of obsession for me.

  If I’m completely honest with myself, Tasha’s dad, Slade, is the real reason I want the tattoo in the first place.

  And yep, you guessed it. He’s the local tattoo artist.

  Amongst other things.

  Like motorcycle mechanic, artist, single dad of the century.

  Oh, and the hottest man alive.

  Did I mention that?

  If anyone in town is gonna get a proper tattoo done, Slade’s Studio is the place to get it done. And he’s the best man for the job even though he does have a few employees now to do most of the work.

  But I want it to be Tasha’s dad to do me.

  To ink me I mean.

  Tasha’s cell chimes and her face lights up even before she looks at it.

  I stifle a groan only because I know who it is, at least I think I know who it is.

  Brad.

  Her on-again, off-again boyfriend.

  The only wedge that’s ever come between me and my best friend.

  And maybe a certain secret crush, but what Tasha doesn’t know can’t hurt her, can it?

  I almost roll my eyes out of habit again, but I’m brought swiftly to attention when I hear the unmistakable deep, smoky voice from her phone.

  It’s her dad.

  “Oh. Hi Dad, I’ll put you on speaker. Doin’ ma nails…” Tasha drones without much interest, looking disappointed it’s not her beau, Brad.

  If I had her dad, Slade, calling me, I’d be a little more interested. Even listening in, I fight to contain my excitement.

  Shifting in my seat on my mattress.

  The thought of her dad having an interest in me has a direct effect on my core.

  “Just calling to make sure you hadn’t forgotten,” her dad says. His deep voice travels straight through the phone and to my pleasure center.

  The rumble of motorbikes in the background is drowned out by his voice.

  Does he even know the effect he has on people just by existing or is it just me?

  “Forget what?” Tasha frowns, looking at me with a shrug, not even faking her forgetfulness. I love my bestie but she can be mighty forgetful. One time she left me stranded at the movies for hours because she forgot we’d made plans the day prior.

  I wonder what she forgot this time.

  I shift my gaze from hers, pretending not to be interested in their conversation but I have to bite my lip to stop from moaning.

  The thought of her dad and every fantasy I’ve harbored for years spring to life in my mind. The need to touch myself is almost unbearable, the sound of his voice matching the image of him in my mind.

  Slade is a big man. And not the kind of big I’ve been teased for my whole life either.

  He’s rock solid, with a V-shaped torso, and thick muscular tree trunks for legs to match.

  At almost seven feet, Slade even makes people my size look tiny by comparison.

  Even having only seen him without his shirt once, I’ve got his body mapped out in my mind forever.

  Deeply tanned and with plenty of his own art as well as a tattoo of his only daughter, Tasha on his arm. Slade’s ripped physique features heavily in my mind and my panties, even now, as he speaks to his daughter, my best friend.

  But it’s his eyes that really drive me nuts whenever I think about him.

  Dark, brooding eyes that flash with a fire I’ve never seen in anyone let alone a man as hot as he is.

  The hints of gray at his temples and his chiseled jaw and slightly crinkled eyes show maturity but not old age.

  I’d never pick him as old enough to be Tasha’s dad. He looks like a sexy bad boy for sure, but one who’s grown up a lot and has his life fully mapped out.

  Mature, not reckless. And certainly, a man who knows what he wants.

  “Abby? AB-BY!”

  I jump when Tasha nudges my foot with hers, instantly zapping me back into the room.

  Away from my fantasy, but closer to having to change my underwear, that’s for sure.

  “Abs? You wanna come over to my place. Dad’s got something going on I totally forgot about.”

  Telling me rather than asking really, but if her dad’s gonna be there, I don’t need to even think about it.

  “Sure,” I squeak and hear her dad grunt a low sound of agreement before he hangs up.

  I haven’t seen Tasha’s dad since I got back from my ‘gap year’, working at my aunt’s florist shop in the next state over, but I never stopped thinking about him while I was away.

  Tasha was away at college while I was gone, but dropped out. We spoke more than I think she studied.

  Her dad didn’t even blink when she said she wanted to come home and only encouraged her to follow her heart, not what everyone else thought she should do.

  Since I’ve been back, Tasha and I have been like white on rice.

  Except for when her boyfriend Brad shows up.

  But today looks like it could be just perfect.

  “I’ll just need to change.”

  Deciding against the nail color we had in mind for me I set about to get some clothes. I need fresh dry undies and a more sophisticated look for Slade.

  Changing in the bathroom, I tremble as the fabric of my panties glides where I want the man himself instead, and before I can ruin my fantasy by catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror I change quickly.

  A tattoo on my chest, or on my ass? Which part of me do I want Slade to pore over as he inks me?

  “What’s the special occasion?” I ask once we’re on our way.

  Tasha doesn’t live far, but any excuse for her to drive her car is a good enough reason.

  And yes, I’m jealous.

  “It's dad’s birthday,” she says offhandedly.

  “Birthday!” I exclaim, feeling bad because I haven’t got anything to give him.

  Feeling bad because it all sounds so… casual.

  So unimportant.

  “How-How old is your dad?” I ask, trying to sound casual about it.

  Tasha has to think for a moment. “Uhhh. I think he’s forty-two. Yeah, forty-two this year,” she says absently.

  I swallow harder.

  Forty-two?

  And I’m just nineteen.

  Tasha is a couple of years older than me, but the “age is just a number thing” is starting to hurt my fantasy big time.

  How on earth could a hot older guy like Slade find a thickset younger girl like me anywhere near attractive?

  Let alone anything more serious.

  “What’s so bad about that?” Tasha asks, picking up on my deflated mood, asking if I’d rather not go.

  “I’m coming,” I blurt out. The very thought of not going is insane, even though it does feel like just an obsessive fantasy now.

  “I mean, what else would I do all day?” I ask, trying to sound playful, but she gives me a sidelong glance.

  And as much as I’ve tried to keep it from her, I’m not sure me even thinking about her dad would go down too well.

  But it’s okay.

  I have zero chance, so I’ll just make the most of being Tasha’s fat friend from school.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Slade

  Forty-two years old.

  I’ve got bikes older than that, and they’re way easier to maintain.

  Nine hundred ninety-eight…

  Easier to keep looking like the day they were made.

  The thing is, I don’t feel forty-two.

  Inside, I still feel like I’m nineteen.

  Nine
hundred ninety-nine…

  Like those were good years.

  Not.

  I can’t change the past, but damn if it still doesn’t haunt me after all these years.

  One thousand…

  I finish my burpee set, ignoring the chiseled, half-naked bulk of man staring back at me from the mirrored wall in my garage once I spring to my feet.

  It’s pure routine now.

  I tried kicking the exercise habit while Tasha was away. I told myself I should slow down some.

  Worst three days of my life.

  Having Tasha home again from college is the best, but her being gone the best part of a year and now old enough to drive, move out…

  Old enough to have a boyfriend. It’s like I don’t know half of what she’s really up to anymore.

  I wince at the thought, and decide a few sets on the punching bag might be a good warm-down.

  “Brad’s a nice guy,” she said.

  Well, I met Brad, and I can spot a shit stain from a hundred feet let alone on my own god damned couch.

  The fucking thought of that kid… his hands…on my daughter…

  I right hook the hundred-pound bag clean off its hook, clattering loudly when it hits the floor, a pile of splintered lumber and plaster coming down with it. The sweat from my body, dripping all over it.

  I puff out my cheeks and exhale, slowly.

  Taking more than my fair share of deep breaths until I feel calm again.

  I don’t begrudge Tasha her romance, her happiness.

  But Brad?

  Jesus Christ bananas. She could’ve picked way better than him.