Happily Ever After With My Dad's Best Friend

“Something like that,” I mutter.

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to sit down and talk about the possibilities they have to offer.”

I nod. “I’m going to evaluate Takedown like you asked, and we can talk about it Monday?”

“Works for me.” He claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll have Liz put it on the calendar.” He walks off with a little swagger in his step, and something in my mind eases. I may have jumped to conclusions about where he stood. After this long working together, I should know better than to assume that Jack would just swan dive in a different direction without consulting me. Not fair to either of us. We both want this business to succeed, and even if we have different ways of thinking about it, we’ll come to an agreement eventually. That’s the way it’s always worked and the way it should be.

Which means that it’s even more imperative that I stay away from Cora. I can’t risk the friendship and working relationship I have with jack—it’s too important. I see Cora at the end of the hallway and turn around. I can avoid her if I try. And I have to try. Even if it’s really the last thing I want to do.

I barely notice the day flying by, and it feels like no time has passed when I look up and it’s dark outside. There’s a vague memory of Ellen saying she was leaving for the day, but that’s it. Judging from the silence, I’m the last one here. Not that that’s anything new. I tend to forget myself when I’m working, even more so when I’m working on the actual tech. I roll my shoulders, trying to relieve a buildup of tension I hadn’t noticed was there. Maybe I should invest in a better office chair or something. I’m not getting any younger.

Getting up and looking out the window, I take in the view of Houston. It’s one of my favorites, the city laid out in glittering lights. It’s small moments like this that remind me how lucky I am.

A knock on the door surprises me, and I turn to find Cora, looking like a sexy secretary in a white button-down and a skin-tight black pencil skirt. My cock rises to attention like it’s a soldier and she’s the damn American flag. I guess I’m going to have to get used to that because my body refuses to control itself when she’s near. I did okay avoiding her today—until now—but I can’t hide in my office for the next three months. “Cora, how can I help you?”

She lifts a folder to show me, and then comes to place it on my desk. “You asked for information about Takedown. I know it’s a little past end of business, but I saw that you were still here.”

I had almost forgotten that I had asked her for that. “Thank you. Anything interesting that pops out to you?”

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

I wander out from behind the desk. “I am, but I’m wondering what you thought.”

Cora crosses her arms, hesitating like she doesn’t think I actually want to hear what she has to say, but after second of staring at each other, she breaks. “They’re an okay company, they have some okay ideas, but they don’t have a good business plan. They rely too much on deficit financing, and in order to try to compete with Tailor Me and other similar companies, they’re expanding too fast.”

“So they’re in the red?” I ask.

“Big time. They don’t have the capital for the kind of payroll burden they now have with all the on-call tailors. They’re trying to hide it, and they’re trying to woo new investors to the company, but they really need this to work or they’re going under.”

“That’s good to know.” Does Jack know this? If he does, then why is he trying to emulate them so quickly? I file the question away for when I go through the folder and when we have our meeting about this next week. “Thank you for being so thorough. You’ve more than earned the right to be off the clock by now.”

She hesitates, then nods and starts to walk away. I’m turning back to the window so I don’t look at her ass and remember what happened last night when I hear her stop. “Do I repulse you or something?”

“What?” I turn and the look on her face is half confusion, half anger. “Of course not.”

“I’m just trying to understand why you walked away last night. Because you didn’t have to. You didn’t do anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong. And you haven’t even looked at me today. You haven’t looked me in the eyes since I came in here.”

She’s not wrong. “It’s not—I’m not repulsed by you. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” She storms across the room and stands in front of me. “Do you think I’m not worth your time because I’m an intern? Because I’m younger than you? Do you think I’m slutty because I flirted with those men last night? I’m just trying to figure out what I did wrong to go from that to this.”

I reach out and grab her hand, and it’s not like last night. This time I’m not trying to stop her, I’m trying to draw her closer. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say roughly. “Nothing. It’s the opposite of that. You’ve gotten under my skin. I can’t get you out of my head, and I barely understand why. Only that the only thing I can think about doing is this.”

I pull her against me and kiss her, pouring every ounce of frustration and lust I’ve experienced the last two days into it. She melts against me and it steals my breath. Cora’s lips are softer than I even imagined, full and passionate and I feel all of it now because she’s kissing me back. Her arms twine around my neck, and even though there’s no space between us, it’s like we can’t get close enough.

Somehow we stumble to my office couch. My suit jacket is on the floor. The buttons on her shirt are undone. I let my hands roam the way that they wanted to last night, exploring the swell of her hips and the softness of her breasts. Pulling away for a moment, I catch my breath. “We shouldn’t do this. There’s a million reasons why. Mainly because if your father ever finds out, he’ll lose his mind. And quite possibly kill me.”

Cora laughs against my mouth. “In case you didn’t guess this last night, I don’t care about what my father thinks. Not about this.” She pushes me back onto the couch, climbs on top of me so her red curls are cascading in a curtain down toward my face. “But maybe you’re right,” she says. “Maybe I’m just a bad girl who does naughty things. After all, no one ever taught me to behave.”

Her lips crash down on mine, and I groan because I can’t stop myself. I can’t fight this, not now when she’s right here begging me for the very thing I’ve wanted. But not like this. I sit up and lift Cora off me, setting her on her feet just long enough for me to pull that skirt off her hips. She’s wearing panties this time, a lacy turquoise thong that makes me want to take it off with my teeth. There’s time for that later. Instead I guide her back over my lap again, just like last night.

“I’ll teach you to behave,” I say, barely recognizing my own voice as my hand comes down on her ass. “I wasn’t quite finished last night when we were interrupted.”

“Yes,” she pants. “Please.”

I grab her panties, gathering the fabric into my fist and pulling them taut so I can see the outline of her pussy and the edges of her perfect asshole. She’s soaked through the tiny piece of cloth, and I run my fingers across her clit. The way she shudders is almost enough to make me come. I pr

ess my thumb down harder, rolling it in circles, using her panties against her as the friction of the fabric gets her off. “Is this what you want?” I ask, “To get off?”

“God, yes.”

I pull my hand away and spank her twice. “Well, then you have to promise to be good. If you’re not good, you’ll be spanked more.” I let my hand fall harder on her skin, just to prove my point. She cries out, and at the same time her back arches into me. Moving back to her pussy, I stroke her lips, tracing the outside through the fabric before dipping underneath. That first stroke, that first feeling of heat, is everything that I imagined it would be. She moans as I push a finger inside her, and I immediately pull away. Three quick, glancing blows just at the base of her ass where the skin turns tender. “I told you to be good,” I say. “Now be quiet and let me play with you.”

Her mouth is muffled where it’s pressed into the couch. “Yes, Sir.”

Something dark and primal unlocks at her words. I’ve never considered myself a kinky person—never been into sadism or bondage or anything you see in those strange romance novels. But I have a girl over my lap, and I’m spanking her, and I love it. It feels right. I feel powerful, knowing I can give her both pleasure and pain and she’ll like both, and even further, she’ll accept both.

I never thought I wanted to be called “Sir” in the bedroom, but the way she says it, like I’m the most powerful man in the world, makes me want to run to the rooftop and pound on my chest, crowing that she’s mine. I like it more than I should. “I see you’ve taken my advice,” I say, smoothing my hand over her ass. “You’ve decided to show me some respect.”