This isn't normal. Shep thought, as he gulped down another mouthful of whisky, in a futile attempt to steady his nerves. Other fathers are not sitting at home with their 19 year old daughters, sharing a bottle of wine and talking about sex. Other fathers are not then waiting for their tight bodied, dance student daughter to reappear in our lounge modelling a scandalous lingerie outfit. Other fathers don't have their phone in hand, ready to film their little girl, dancing and posing sexily in that tiny outfit "for her tik tok". We're both pretending that this is normal dad / daughter behaviour, just a very open and honest father daughter relationship, but I know that the boundaries between father and teen daughter are collapsing, our walls are coming crashing down and our relationship is shifting, reforming into something different.

And I don't know if I can stop it, or if I even want to.

6 months earlier

The text from Kelly pricked any sentimental bubble Shep might have had around his daughter coming back to live with him for the first time since the split; "Just don't think this is some sort of homecoming of your loving little girl. She's coming to stay with you simply because she's got into the Royal Conservatoire and your place is 5 minutes away on the subway, you're just offering a student free rent and board. You'll be lucky if you even see her other than the 15 minutes between her pulling herself out of bed in the morning and leaving for college and if you're up late you might catch her sneaking some random guy home from the club".

He wrote several replies, and deleted them all. Truth is, he knew she was right. He had been clear to Olivia since the breakup two years ago that his place was still her home, she was welcome anytime. And when she heard she got a place on an acting and dance course she messaged him straight away to ask if she could stay, the first message from her in six months.

And of course he said yes. Regardless of his relationship with her mother, she was still his daughter, without the need for any prefix.

She may not be biologically mine but she was my daughter in every sense that mattered. If she wanted to treat my place, my crisp, tidy bachelor pad, like a hotel, well wasn't that what all parents complained their student age kids did? But part of him hoped there would be some time for them to reconnect.

After the break up, after her mother moved her back to London, they kept in touch through text before Shep suspected Kelly made Olivia block his number. So he followed her Instagram and managed to kept in touch - of sorts.

As he scrolled through the usual pics of an aspiring performer he couldn't help seeing her differently. In all the time they lived together he never had any thoughts about her other than those of a normal, doting father. Sure he recognised that she was becoming a beautiful young woman, but only in an objective, rational sort of way.

But seeing her in tight dance wear, sexy stage costumes and party dresses for attending events he couldn't help gazing at her slim, toned legs, her small pert breasts usually unencumbered by a bra. Without really noticing, his taste in porn progressively changed until he was borderline addicted to step daughter porn.

About a year after the split Shep found himself having to face reality, he had a crush on his freshly legal, 18 year old, tight bodied daughter. So much so he had to limit the time he spent on Instagram, making contact with her harder and harder. But they kept up contact, and when she mentioned she was still thinking of studying at the Conservatoire he had to face down my demons.

Jesus thought Shep, fantasising about your step daughter is one thing when she's 500 miles away, but it's another thing when she is under your roof.

Her nerves are frayed as the train pulls into it's destination, taking her to her new home, her old home.

He's waiting for her at the station, looking genuinely pleased to see her. He hugs her but briefly, and he seems guarded, unusually quiet, like he's not quite sure what to say or how to behave. She is suddenly unsure... is he having second thoughts about her staying?

He is still handsome though, thank God. 6ft and lean, he wouldn't look 45 if it wasn't for the grey streaked temples or silver flecks in his beard. Beard is trimmed and hair fresh cut, short, shorter than before, shaved at the sides longer on top, but she approves, a contemporary cut without try to be young or trendy. Silver Fox she thinks and blushes. Actually make that complete DILF and she has to bite her lip to stifle a giggle . He posts virtually nothing online other pictures of sunsets and hills with sheep on them so she had a knot in her stomach that maybe he wasn't as hot as she remembered, or had aged badly in the two years of separation . But he's even hotter than her memory and she finds herself shy, answering his questions in clipped sentences, which just makes him ask less.

The house calms her. It always has. It's familiar, solid, even if it feels scrubbed clean of any memories. The old Victoria townhouse has been decorated since she was last here. Light and airy, very tasteful but zero personality. Professionally designed? Possibly. No personal pictures on the walls. No pictures of anyone, never mind signs of a semi permanent girlfriend, number 2 in the lists of unknowns that had been making her sick in recent weeks

Over a dinner she doesn't taste he is a little more talkative. "Your old room hasn't been changed. Don't worry it's not like a shrine or anything, I just always hoped you'd come back and decorate it yourself. I guess it's not really appropriate now but I thought you could sleep in what used to be your mums room when you work out how you want to redecorate?"

Yessss. That's was the best news all day. When they had first moved up here mum had shotgunned the nicest room as a dressing room, or boudoir as she insisted on calling it. It wasn't as large as the master but easily a double and with beautiful light. Olivia sleeping there would be claiming her mother's place, the room of the woman of the house.

Feeling a little braver, it's time to put the plan into action. Now or Never Liv.

"Hey Daddy I was thinking, do you remember Movie Night? We used to do it every Wednesday. I was thinking we could restart the tradition? Yeah from tonight unless you have plans?OK can we say from 8pm? I'm pretty don, I was going to unpack, shower and get in my PJs. It's been along day, eary start and a long train journey and I just want to roll straight into bed after the movie."

Finally alone, she collapses on the bed, her new bed and has a chance to think about the day, the first day of her new life.

That had went well. Had that went well? She has to be brave. She had to stay focused. She was so over being the good girl, the straight A student, the gifted dancer who her teachers praised for always working the hardest at rehearsals. It was time stop doing what everyone else wanted, what society expected of her. It was time to take what she wanted, what she had always wanted, what she had craved since that night in Mykonos.

Her mother's parting words kept playing in her mind, filling her with steel; "I'll come up soon to visit darling, and to check in on Shep too. He seems to be doing rather well for himself these days. He wasn't all bad you know. You never know sweetie, you staying with him might just be thing that brings us back together."

Not after everything you've done you won't you old slut. Dragging me across the country away from him, walking out on him and smashing up my life when I was happiest. You had your chance bitch. Now it's my time.

Sitting in what used to be her mother's boudoir, now hers, she looked at herself in the mirror. Light makeup, enough of a smudge of mascara to give a subtle, smoky look without looking too obvious. Dark hair tousled, again, carefully done to look glamorous without looking like it was deliberate. Lip-gloss, a splash of perfume. Even with her default self-criticism picking out her flaws she knew overall she looked good. And her outfit, well she hadn't exactly lied when she told Shep she was getting in her PJs, but that didn't quite do this little set justice.

Shep

She walked into the room with all her dancers grace and poise, unhurried and with a self-possession women decades older would kill for. Her long dark hair tumbled to her breasts (why was I looking at my daughter's breasts?) and when Shep agreed to her getting into PJs he hadn't anything like this outfit in mind. Technically it was a set of PJs but even in low light he could tell the material was satin, black with a lace trim on the shorts and the sleeves. The shorts were long enough to be decent, short enough to show off her lean, toned legs.

He opened his mouth to tell her to go get changed but stopped himself. She was in PJs, beautiful glamorous PJs but nothing slutty, not even lingerie. What was he going to say to her, that she looked too hot? That he couldn't tear his eyes off her petite, lithe body wrapped in silky satin that he was desperate to touch? That just said more about him than her dress sense.

So Shep gulped hard and just said, barely thinking as the words came out "you look stunning Olivia, but I'll confess that wasn't what I expected when you said PJs".