Married to my Dad’s Best Friend

I look at Lonnie, desperate. He must think I’m so irresponsible. It’s only my second day and already I’m screwing it all up. He doesn’t look disappointed, though. If anything he looks amused.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, rushing to my room to get dressed. He follows me, watching with a smirk as I fumble to find something to wear in my cluttered drawers. I still need to take the time to organize all my things. With the work load I have, I don’t know how I’ll ever get any unpacking done. “It’ll only take me a moment.”

“I had a feeling you were burning yourself out, spending all those hours working last night.”

“No, I swear I can handle the workload …”

He takes my arms gently in his hands and turns me toward him. I’m out of breath. The frantic beat of my heart makes me light-headed and slightly nauseous. I always get that way when I’m nervous.

The coffee is no longer in his hands. I look over and see them on the bedside table. He takes the wrinkled blouse clutched in my fist and tosses it on the bed, grabs my hand and pulls me close to him. He smells like cologne. Something expensive. I look up at him and there’s that same look of desire on his face when he was in my office yesterday. He leans in, brushing the loose hair from my face. His lips press against mine. I open my mouth, inviting him in. Our tongues mingle as his arm curls around my waist and he pulls me close enough to feel his arousal. It’s pressed against me, leaving no room for the imagination, and no doubt that he wants me as much as I want him. I gasp into his open mouth.

He reaches down to touch my smooth legs, and moves his hands up until he’s cupping my ass. He starts to reach for the hem of my panties, and I anticipate him ripping them off of me. I excitedly wait for it. Then suddenly he lets go and steps away, leaving me confused with my mouth still open.

“We don’t have time,” he says with a little smirk on his face.

“Right, of course,” I say. My heart sinks a bit. Though I know we’re late for work because of me, and I know that we need to get to the office, his sudden step away from me feels like a rejection. I’m a little sad, and a lot sexually frustrated.

I start to get dressed and he comes up to me to help, which stops the sting of his rejection a bit. His body language tells me he wants me, and so does the hard-on pressing against his pants, but he’s holding back. The look on his face mirrors my own. He wants to rip my clothes off, not put them on, I can tell.

We take the elevator down to the garage together. He drives the sexiest sports car I’ve ever seen. An Alfa Romeo, black with a mirror shine to it that radiates even in the dim glow of the basement lights.

He opens the door for me, and I slide into the buttery leather seats. The dashboard looks like a flight panel and the screen is the biggest I’ve seen in any car, it’s more like a TV. When he turns on the car, everything lights up in a red glow. The engine roars to life, echoing off the garage walls. He looks sexy driving it, too. Confident. He’s the human version of this car. Sexy, sleek, and full of power. I get wet just looking at him.

Damn this sexual frustration.

He pulls the car out of the garage and into the bright morning. I open my mouth to apologize again for making us late. I want him to know how sorry I am, and that I’m not some flaky girl who doesn’t care about her job. I want him to know how much I appreciate him putting everything on the line for me. I know it can’t be easy for him to hire his ex-best friend’s daughter, knowing it could make things even worse for their relationship.

But before I can say anything, his hand slides over the center console between us and ends up on my leg. When his hand slides up my leg and under my skirt, I wonder if that’s why he suggested I wear it rather than the slacks I had started to grab out of the drawer.

There was no time to look for panties, so I didn’t bother wearing them. He gets to my thighs and my legs instinctively open for him. His fingers slide skillfully up and down the lips of my pussy, tentatively exploring every fold of that sensitive place. He glances at me several times while still managing to keep the car carefully on the road.