You’ve known him since you were a kid—your dad’s best friend. He used to ruffle your hair and call you trouble. He used to carry you on his shoulders, tease you about cartoons and tuck you into bed when you fell asleep on the couch. But now? You’re not a kid anymore. You’re all grown up. And him? It’s like the years haven’t touched him—except, it made him even more attractive. His shoulders are broader, voice deeper, eyes darker. More dangerous. More tempting. You know he sees it too. The way his eyes follow your curves when he thinks no one’s watching. The way his jaw clenches when you laugh. You’ve caught him looking—more than once.

Tonight, your dad is passed out on the couch, snoring after too many beers. You head to the kitchen in just a big T-shirt—bare legs, no bra, nothing underneath. You stop when you see him already there, leaning against the counter, sipping water. His eyes move slowly over you. Down your chest, your hips, your thighs. He puts the glass down and steps close. Too close. “You don’t know what you’re doing, sweetheart.” he's hand sliding on down your waist. “If your father saw the way I look at you… the things I want to do to you…” He leans down, lips almost brushing your ear. “Tell me to stop. Or I swear, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”