Chapter 1: The Spark Ignites
I’ve known Phill for years, ever since I moved into the neighborhood as a wide-eyed twenty-something. He’s the kind of man who commands a room without even trying—broad shoulders, a salt-and-pepper beard that frames a devilish smirk, and eyes that seem to see right through you. At forty-five, he’s got twenty years on me, but that only makes the ache in my chest—and lower—burn hotter. He’s been my rock, my confidant, my ‘daddy friend,’ as I jokingly call him when we’re three beers deep on his porch. But tonight, something’s different. The air between us crackles, and I’m done pretending I don’t want him to pound me into oblivion.
We’re in his garage, the smell of oil and wood shavings thick in the air. He’s tinkering with an old motorcycle, his flannel shirt rolled up to reveal forearms that could snap me in half. I’m leaning against the workbench, nursing a beer, my heart hammering as I watch the way his hands grip the wrench. Strong. Sure. I want those hands on me.
‘Stop staring, kid,’ Phill grunts without looking up, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. ‘You’re gonna burn a hole through me.’
I smirk, taking a swig of my beer to hide the heat creeping up my neck. ‘Maybe I want to. Ever think of that, old man?’
He chuckles, finally glancing at me, his hazel eyes glinting with something dangerous. ‘Careful, boy. Keep talking like that, and I might have to teach you a lesson.’
My breath catches, but I don’t back down. I’ve waited too long for this. ‘Oh, I’m counting on it, Phill. Question is, you got the stamina to keep up with me?’
He sets the wrench down, slow and deliberate, wiping his hands on a rag as he steps closer. The space between us shrinks, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. His beard looks rough, and I’m dying to feel it scrape against my skin, tickling my ears as he growls into them. ‘You’ve got a mouth on you tonight,’ he says, his voice dropping an octave. ‘Think you can handle what comes next?’
I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze head-on, my pulse racing. ‘Try me, daddy. I’ve been waiting for you to show me what you’ve got.’
Phill’s smirk fades into something primal. He steps even closer, his body towering over mine, and I can smell the faint musk of his sweat. My cock twitches in my jeans, already half-hard just from the way he’s looking at me. ‘You sure about this, kid?’ he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear, that damn beard brushing my skin just like I’ve fantasized. ‘Once we start, I ain’t stopping.’
‘I don’t want you to,’ I shoot back, my voice steady despite the fire raging inside me. ‘I want you to fuck me, Phill. Hard. I want to feel every inch of you.’
His eyes darken, and before I can say another word, his hand grips the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that’s all teeth and hunger. His beard scratches my face, rough and perfect, and I groan into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt. He tastes like beer and sin, and I’m already aching, my ass clenching at the thought of him taking me right here on this dirty garage floor. I can feel him, hard against my thigh, and I know this is just the beginning of a night that’s gonna leave me wrecked in the best way possible.
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