Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One

I met Edward when he was thirty-two years old, recently divorced and sulking in a bar. His wife had told him she was done and walked out, taking their sixteen-year-old daughter with her.

Edward's mistress, who was the mother to his other sixteen-year-old daughter, had given him an ultimatum: either take notice of them both, or she was done.

That night, Edward had drunk himself in a stupor and spent the night on my couch. It solidified our friendship.

After divorcing his wife, Edward did marry his mistress. It was as if he thought doing so would help him create a new family. Much to his annoyance, that didn't happen.

His two daughters don't get along. They both inherited his temper. They're both fucking spitfires, arguing at every family meal, giving each other snotty comments, and just generally hating on each other.

I think it's fucking hilarious.

Nessa is the youngest by just six months and curses like a sailor. Edward hates it. He hates the fact that she was covered in tats, too.

Hypocritical bastard. I'm more ink than skin at this point, but that doesn't seem to bother him. Apparently, it's fine when it's on me, just not his daughter. Not his little girl.

Nessa currently works at my tattoo shop under an apprenticeship. She's talented as fuck, and the customers adore her.

Then there was Rose. A sweet hot ball of burning fire. She had golden blonde hair that flowed down her back in a brilliant waterfall, with dark blue eyes were truly captivating. Her figure is one that women want and men would worship, given a chance.

I met Rose when she was sixteen. And her fire has just grown ever since.

I was in the middle of cleaning up my station when my phone rang from the side. I answered the phone, immediately putting it on speaker.

"What's up, dude?" I answered in lieu of a greeting.

"Emmett, fucking hell!" It was never good when Edward started a call off swearing. "I swear my daughters are making me grey!"

"What have they done now?" Nessa hadn't been in the shop today, so I hadn't been kept up to date with the latest fuckery they'd gotten themselves into. Sometimes, I was sure that they got into more shit than I did when I was a teenager… and that was saying something.

"They had a massive fight last night, and Rose took off. I think she's gone to the beach house."

I could just picture Edward, running his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"She's not answering her phone." Edward gave a deep sigh. "I hate to ask, but—fuck. I'm worried. Could you head down there and just make sure she's alright? Rose listens to you."

I swore I could hear him mutter God knows why.

"Sure, I can. I'll head down there tonight."

I liked Edward, and the man had helped me out more times than I could count over the years. And hearing that Edward was worried about Rose made me feel concerned as well

She was strong—well, she acted strong. Rose would throw her hair back, push out her chest, and sway her hips, putting on a front for the whole world to see. But beneath it, I could sense her fragility. The way she would subconsciously bite her lip, her eyes uncertain when she was in a room full of people—it was fucking sweet.

"Jesus, thanks, man. I owe you."

"It's no problem," I told him. "I'm due a few days off, and it'll be nice to top up my tan."

"No, seriously, I owe you," Edward said to me.

I simply chuckled and told him goodbye.

Fourteen hours later, I walked into the beach house that Edward Masen had owned for the last ten years. It was right on the beachfront, complete with a hot tub on the deck and five bedrooms.

The kitchen was spotless and modern and the living room cosy. When Edward brought the place, he'd had this idea of fantastic family holidays here, him, his new wife, Bella, and his two daughters.

Spoiler Alert: that didn't happen.

"Rosie?" I called out, setting my small bag down. I was fucking tired, having driven through the night to get here. I probably could have gotten a flight out. Still, there was nothing better than getting in my Jeep and driving, forgetting about everything until it was just me and the road.

"Rosie, it's me." My deep voice resonated through the house. It was nine in the morning, and even though Rose loved her sleep, I half expected her to be awake already.

When I didn't get a response, I headed upstairs. Placing my bags down in the guest room, I went searching for Rose.

The sight that greeted me was unexpected, to say the least. It also made my cock stir in a way that it shouldn't be stirring. Not for the daughter of my best friend.

Locks of golden hair were spread over the yellow bedspread and pillowcase, as Rose lay half on her side, half on her back. A small white tank top did a poor job of covering her chest, tits straining against the soft cotton, her nipples hard. I got a tantalizing view of her stomach; the skin smooth and flat, begging to be kissed and laved with my tongue. Or covered in my cum. That magnificent view, paired with the tiny, red thong she was wearing, made me feel lightheaded, all the blood in my body going south as my dick swelled, pressed painfully against the seam of my pants

It was wrong—so fucking wrong, but my eyes refused to leave her body. Her skin was so tan and perfect, and my mouth watered. I want to taste her, run my tongue all over her skin. Feel her writhe beneath me.

Rose's legs seemed to go on forever, and I craved them wrapped around me—my waist, my neck, anywhere, everywhere.

The fact that she was the daughter of my best friend left my mind, and suddenly she was just a fucking beautiful woman, half-naked and adorably sleepy in front of me. I bit my lip, trying to behave myself; telling my cock to behave himself.

My hand reached forward, and I caressed her shoulder, my fingertips sliding over her warm skin. "Rosie." It came out like a prayer—I supposed that's what it was. A prayer. For strength? For forgiveness over what I was about to do? For what I wanted to do? I had no clue.

"Mhm," she shifted, rolling more onto her back so I could clearly see the outline of her nipples against her cotton tank top. The material was so worn and thin, I could see their fucking color. Perfect pink, perfect nipples and perfect, perky tits. The urge to suck them was so fucking intense that I felt myself leaning forward, desperate to feel as much of her as I could.

"Rosie."

"Daddy?" she murmured, clearly confused. But fuck me if I didn't make me harder than steel. My cock felt like it was on fire.

"Rosie."

Her beautiful blue eyes opened, and she gave me a lazy smile. Slowly, she focused on me. "Emmett?"

"Hey," I whispered, hating the moment that her eyes went wide, realized just how much she was on display, and tugged the blanket up over her bare legs and thong-covered pussy. If I'd have been thinking clearly, I would have felt like a pervert, got up, and apologized.

But I didn't. I couldn't leave her. Instead, her covering up made me want to whine like a spoiled puppy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her entire body flushing. I hoped it wasn't with fear. She didn't seem afraid...

"Your dad was worried about you."

That woke her up. Rose scoffed and then yawned, her arms stretching high above her as a yawn escaped her mouth, her tits out and back arched. I held back a groan, the urge to settle in between her shapely legs.

Her pillowy lips formed the perfect 'O' shape. Briefly, images of her sucking my cock into her mouth flashed through my mind. Clearing my throat, I tried to look anywhere but her in an attempt to get my mind out of the gutter.

"He shouldn't have sent you all the way down here." Her eyes looked remorseful. I didn't like it.

"Don't worry, Rosie." That was my nickname for her—Rosie. I was the only one who got to call her that. And it was my fucking privilege. "It'll be nice to get away for a while, anyway."

"What about the shop?" she asked. It was adorable, how worried she was about my livelihood. About me.

"Rina and Liam can look after it, no problem."

She gnawed her lip with her teeth, and once again, I almost forgot myself. I wanted to lean forward and use my thumb to pull the plump flesh from her mouth and then soothe it with my tongue.

"Alright." Her eyes took me in. "You look tired. Why don't you get some sleep, and when you wake up, I can make us something to eat?"

Whilst that did sound nice, I doubted I would be getting any sleep—not with my cock as hard as steel.

"I'm alright, Baby Girl. But you wake up properly, and I'll make us some breakfast, okay? "

Not giving her a second to protest, I stood and walked out. Once I got into the safety of the hallway, I adjusted my throbbing cock, my hand providing a second of relief before I forced myself to let go.

"Do not fuck this up," I muttered under my breath, warning myself.

But I knew I was already in deep shit.

Thanks Pearly – she's been my cheerleader throughout this entire project.

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