Her Dad’s Best Friend

"That's good," he says, finishing a third glass of wine. I didn't know that Jeff had an alcohol problem.

"You're going pretty fast," I say.

"Long day," he says as he pours the fourth glass of wine, but he doesn't drink any of it.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Anything that your dad normally does was on my plate, on top of what I normally do. Double-scheduled meetings were a nightmare," he says. "And my secretary tried her best to work with your dad's, but I was in three meetings at once at one point today." And there goes the fourth glass.

"Your face is kind of turning red," I say.

"Worth it," he growls before pouring out more wine. I'm kind of worried that he's going to pass out at this point.

We lapse into silence as we eat more. I think that he should put something in his stomach if he's going to drink a bottle of wine that quickly. As soon as I finish the Pad Thai, I get up to get more milk before I dig into the Golden Purses with that spicy sauce.

"God, I love the way that your ass moves when you walk."

I freeze in place. I don't know if I should turn around. I don't know if he's so drunk he doesn't know what he's saying. I decide to keep going to the fridge and get more milk. I bring the half gallon to my place and pour enough to fill my glass.

"Are you deaf?" he asks.

I'm worried about how drunk he is at this point. "No," I say. "It's just inappropriate."

He snorts. "You living in my house is wildly inappropriate. That bridge has already been crossed. Our neighbors are already scandalized."

"But my dad wouldn't have put me here if he didn't trust you...and me."

Jeff shakes his head. "I think his trust was misplaced."

My eyes are as wide as they can get. I don't know what to do right now. I turn to the Pack n Play, where Danny has decided to stretch out and fall asleep. I can't use him an excuse to get away, and I'm still hungry.

"Um, I don't know what to say to that."

Jeff just shakes his head. He pours more wine. "I should shut up. In vino veritas," he says.

How hungry am I? I feel incredibly awkward. "I should put Danny to bed," I say. My stomach growls, but I pretend not to hear it. I bend down to pick him up out of the Pack n Play, conscious of how he can see my ass right now. I walk upstairs with Danny. I feel bad about not picking up after myself, but I had no idea how to handle that situation. Jeff is my dad's best friend. I might have a stupid crush on him, but if I sleep with him while he's drunk, how would that change the situation? I'm living here for the next few months. One night of pleasure isn't worth three or more months of constant discomfort. "And I could never leave you," I say to Danny. "Not earlier than the end of the summer, anyway." I settle him very carefully in his crib. I turn on the baby monitor to make sure that I can hear when he wakes up in the middle of the night. I don't think that Jeff will be in any condition to handle Danny if he needs a midnight feeding. I turn the light off.

As I leave, I run into a wall. A very warm wall. I tilt my neck back to look up at inebriated Jeff.

"You're a natural at it," he says. "My dad doesn't think so."

"After your mother died, he had a hard time but never asked for any help. If he seems critical, it's probably from some insecurity about how he raised you." Jeff hiccups a little bit. I wince. I have no idea how to handle my drunk neighbor. His tie is off. He's already unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

"Cool. I need to go bed." I try to push past him, but his hand rests on my shoulder.

"You're such a damn temptation," he says. I can desire blazing in his eyes. I close my own eyes. I shouldn't jump him tonight. He doesn't know what he's saying. I don't want to do anything that he'd regret. I'm completely sober.

"You should go to bed."

"Can you tuck me in, just like you do for Danny?" And he sways. I don't know if he's playing me, but I might as well help him into his bedroom. I drape one arm over my shoulders, which he uses lightly as we walk into his bedroom.

"Here you go," I say, sliding away from him. He lurches forward and sits on the bed. He looks down at his feet. I can't leave him like this. I kneel before him and unlace his wingtips.

"You look good like that, kneeling in front of me, your head near my knees." I feel my pussy clench at the visual of going down on him. But I know that I shouldn't.

He puts a hand under my chin and tilts my face. "Do you want me?" he asks, far more bluntly than he'd ask me without the huge quantity of wine he's imbibed. "Not like this," I say with equal honesty. "You need to sleep it off."

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