Happily Ever After With My Dad's Best Friend

“Yes, Sir.”

Again, that surge of adrenaline and power. Another spank, and another, and another, and Cora doesn’t make a sound. I pull her up so she can straddle my lap, but I keep my hand at her pussy, working my fingers back inside. She’s sitting on them now. “Are you going to be good?”

“As good as I can.”

I thrust up into her, and she moans. “There’s a condom in my wallet. Get it, put it on me. The wallet is on the desk.” She lifts herself off me and retrieves it, returning to straddle me as she undoes my belt. “Missing something?” I ask, wiggling my fingers and unable to contain my smirk as she blushes and works her pussy back onto the three fingers I have bunched together just for her. I brush my thumb across her clit while she works at my belt and pulls my cock out of my pants.

Her breath goes shallow when she sees me fully erect, and I thrust up into her, letting her imagine what this is going to feel like. She seems almost shy as she rolls the condom onto me, hesitant. “Have you changed your mind?” I ask.

She laughs softly. “No. It’s just—” I wait for her to continue, while she finishes placing the condom. “I’ve never been with someone who’s as big as you are.”

A swell of pride rises up in my chest and I lift her up, guiding myself to her entrance. “Then take your time,” I say. “Take as long as you need to get me inside you. But Cora,” I say and she looks at me. “Once I’m inside you, I’m going to fuck you. And I’m not going to hold back.”

She lowers herself onto me, and we both groan. She feels so good, so hot and tight that I could come right now. But what a waste that would be. I press my lips to her skin, feeling her chest rise and fall in little pants as she slowly works herself onto me. It’s exquisite torture, and I say so.

“Maybe I like torturing you,” she says, but it’s all breath and no voice. Her eyes flutter closed as she takes another inch, and I hold my breath because God, it’s so good. And then she’s there, and her pussy clenches around me and I almost lose it. Almost.

“Good girl,” I say softly, and she shudders. I give her a moment to adjust, feeling the way she moves her hips against mine, feeling the way I fill her up—and I do, completely. “This needs to go,” I say, pushing her shirt off her shoulders. And when that’s gone I help her unhook her bra so that I can finally see those breasts I’ve been fantasizing about. Cora’s nipples are a dusky red that compliment her skin, and I have to taste them because I can’t help myself. The way they pebble and harden under my tongue is so fucking hot, and I know that I can’t wait anymore.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” I say. “I want to hear how loud you can scream.” And then I thrust up into her. It’s not a scream at first, it’s a gasp and then a moan, and fucking her is like a dream come true. I want this to last forever, but I know that it won’t. We’re both too riled up, too overwhelmed by the last two days for it to last.

I push faster, pulling her hips down with every stroke so that she’s fucking me just as much as I’m fucking her, and it’s amazing. Cora squeezes me, her pussy like a damn vise of pleasure and I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming. She’s going to come with me. Pulling her against me, I hold her still so that I can fuck her faster, and I love her voice in my ear, screaming my name, asking for more, saying yes please yes please fuck.

“Don’t come,” I tell her.

Her voice is more a sob than a moan. “Why?”

“Because I told you not to.”

Her entire body shudders again, and I watch her head thrown back, eyes closed, fighting the orgasm that I’m at once giving her and denying her. It’s perfect. We’re both close, almost there. I squeeze my hand between our bodies, reaching out to touch her clit and as I do her body goes rigid, pussy locking down, and she screams. I hold on a second longer before I tell her, “Now,” and I feel her body shake with the explosion of her climax. I let go, thrusting into her again and again and again, shouting my own climax that feels like it’s ripped from me and suddenly I’m blind. There’s nothing in the universe but this pleasure, and fuck, it’s good. So good. For a moment, I’m suspended in it, lost, and then I come crashing down, collapsing back into my body with a breathless Cora on top of me, my cock still deep inside her.

“Fuck,” she says, mouth against my chest.

I laugh. “Fuck is right.” Helping her off me, I toss the condom and turn to find her retrieving her clothes and putting them back on. “Going so soon?”

She grins. “We both have to be here early tomorrow. I was going to invite you back to my apartment, but I think we both know how that would go. But tomorrow evening,” she says, coming closer as she buttons up her shirt, “I don’t have any plans.”

Pulling her against me so I can get one last feel of her, I press my lips to hers. “You have plans now.”

“What about my father? Aren’t you worried?” Her voice has a playful, mocking note. “You’ve gotten over your fear so quickly?”

“No,” I admit. “But I think you and I both know we can’t do anything to stop this.”

“So what should we do tomorrow?”

I swallow. “I don’t know. But I’m going to spend all night thinking about it.”

“Me too.”

5

I have no idea what I’m doing. I went on total instinct last night, and even though it was the hottest night of my life, I feel out of my depth. I don’t feel ashamed of it, but I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know the rules or how it’s supposed to work. I spent half the night researching, and there are so many individual variations that it’s still infinitely complex. One thing seems clear though, Cora and I need to define this. What we want from each other. Set some boundaries.

I’m going to be thinking about it all day, because whatever this is, I want to explore it. I want more of that fire and that power and that absolutely fucking exquisite pleasure. Today is going to give a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘hump day.’

It’s mid-morning when Jack strolls into my office with a thin folder and tosses it on my desk. “That was delivered just a few minutes ago.”

I raise an eyebrow, picking up the folder from where it’s fallen and opening it. Skimming the first page, I do a double take. “Jack, what the fuck is this.”

“Jason and Rick,” he says. “You met them the other night. They called. After thinking it over, they don’t just want to invest, they want to buy the company. That’s the offer.”

“Yes, I can see that.” I clear my throat. “What I meant is, why are you even showing this to me?”

He gives me a look like I’m the stupidest human on earth. “Did you see the offer?”

Glancing down at the page, I see the number, and I will admit, it is an impressive string of zeroes. “I don’t want to sell.”

“For that amount of money we’d be stupid not to.”

I grit my teeth. “Jack, I haven’t put eight years of my life into this company to sell it some wall-street wannabe children. How the hell did we go from you meeting with them, then agreeing to talk about it later, to having an offer on the table? Let alone an offer that you’re willing to take?”

He scoffs. “Eight years. I put in eight years too. I know you resent me because you think I don’t work as hard as you do, but I’ve dedicated just as much, and those ‘wannabes’ have the capital and the vision to take Tailor Me and turn it into a global brand.”

“Resent you? Jack, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t resent you. I think we’ve been having communication problems, but you’re still my closest friend. And it seems like you’ve forgotten that we’re already a global brand.”

“Not like that.” His eyes light up with an almost manic fire. “They’re talking the Walmart of men’s clothing. The one place that everyone shops. This will be our legacy.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“Think about it, Michael. You could retire at thirty-five and live like a king for the rest of your life. This is per

fect. No more worrying about the little details, no more slaving over code that has to be re-written a thousand times. We’ll still have stock options and can go live on a fucking island if we wanted to.”

I stand, his insistence at this suddenly growing annoying. “I like my job. I like our company. If you’re no longer happy here, Jack, then that’s a different conversation. But this one is over. You can’t sell the company unless I agree and I do not. We have no reason to sell, not when we have plans of our own.” He opens his mouth to cut me off, but I keep going. “I have no problem being a truly global brand, but I want to do it our way. I want to do it slowly and carefully, with the kind of quality that has given us our reputation and our business in the first place. Do you have a problem with that?”