by Ami Snow
WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY
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Copyright 2014 by Ami Snow- All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Unsatiated with Dad’s Best Friend
TABOO ROMANCE
By: Ami Snow
Table Of Contents
A Word from the Author
Unsatiated with Dad’s Best Friend
Bonus Catalogue of Sample Books (Limited Time Only)
Table Of Contents
Secretary Romance
Secretary’s First Time
Tamed by the Secretary
The Secretary’s Secret Desires
Dad's Best Friend Romance
Problem with My Dad’s Best Friend
Riding with My Dad’s Best Friend
Hots for My Dad’s Best Friend
Captivated By Dad’s Best Friend
Admiring my Dad’s Best Friend
Great time with My Dad’s Best Friend
Distracted By My Dad’s Best Friend
Enjoying My Dad’s Best Friend
Delighted by My Dad’s Best Friend
Demanded by My Dad’s Best Friend
Dressing Up For My Dad’s Best Friend
Secret Crush On Dad’s Best Friend
Tempted by my Dad’s Best Friend
Nothing Innocent with Dad’s Best Friend
Getting High with My Dad’s Best Friend
Fun and Games with Dad’s Best Friend
Double Trouble with Dad’s Best Friend
Forbidden Fruits with Dad’s Best Friend
Paranormal Romance
The Alpha’s Love
Contemporary Romance
Gold Digger In Stealth
Bad Boy Tease
Her Good Looking Badass
Love for the Gold Digger
Her Captivating Encounter
Satisfying the CEO’s Desire
Royal's Series
Royal’s Encounter: An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 1
Royal’s Reputation: An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 2
Royal’s Possession: An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 3
Royal’s Confession: An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 4
Royal’s Liberation: An Alpha Billionaire Series: Book 5
Bonus Eye candy
A Word From the Author
Dear Reader,
Thank you for downloading my book! Your support means the world to me as an indie author, and I truly hope that you’ll enjoy this romance as much as I enjoyed writing it for you.
Apart from the main story, you’ll also find a wide variety of bonus stories from my fellow writers at Fascination Publishing. I hope you take advantage of this great, limited-time opportunity to explore different genres!
With this download, you also get some bonus Eye Candy- each one of my books features different “candy” … so enjoy!
Finally, I hope you will take a few minutes to leave a review when you are done with the book. Reviews help indie writers like me reach more readers so I can continue to do what I love… write steamy romances for you!
Sincerely,
Ami Snow
Unsatiated with Dad’s Best Friend
Chapter One –
The sweet, soothing fragrance of fresh-baked pastries wafted through the air from the bakery stall in the far corner of the subway station. A full-figured young woman with stylishly choppy, layered hair and neon-pink butterfly frames wandered down the grimy staircase of the brightly lit entrance. Winona Rockwell wrinkled her nose as she reached the foot of the steps, peeling a soggy newspaper clipping off the thin heel of her ballet flat. She peered around at the vaguely familiar setting, running her fingers through the lilac ombre ends of her hair. She clicked her tongue in irritation, the strands of her hair snagging around the oversized pink tourmaline of her ring.
'Damn,' Winona wondered, 'That must've been some party last night. Worst hangover ever – well, except I don't feel even a little bit buzzed – just confused as all hell.'
The doubtful whispers in her head intensified as she craned her neck upwards, her eyes darting searchingly for signage or any other indicants to her whereabouts. The vaulted ceilings of the subway station were paved with a mesmerizing basket weave pattern of glossy, kashmir-gold tiles. Winona frowned at the endless maze of golden tiles that lined the walls, her eyes widening as she scanned the walls for posters and advertisements. The massive advertisement light boards that usually boasted heavily-photoshopped images of women with impossibly immaculate make-up and realtor promotions with toothy, wide-grinned suit types in cliché poses, were completely blank. The pillars were free of distasteful graffiti and stacks of crumpled, sticky flyers, instead, blank frames perched neatly across the walls.
'Well, that's not weird at all,' thought Winona, cocking an eyebrow.
A chill crept up Winona's spine as she slowly spun towards the crowd amassing in the station, hoping to spot a friendly, approachable face. The subway patrons pouring in and out the flight of steps were eerily quiet, some with hands tucked in their pockets, others mechanically sipping from their foam cups, and the rest with the tips of their noses kissing the screens of their phones. Winona sensed the haunting lack of scattered chatter, her toes curling against the padding of her flats. The sound of their shuffling footsteps seemed to be slowly coming into sync.
“Mommy, can we get some donuts from that bakery down there? I want two with strawberry sprinkles.”
Winona gasped, clutching the scoop neck of her blouse. A little girl with bouncing, soft-black pigtails appeared next to her, seemingly out of nowhere. Winona narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the little girl's pink, tea-length tulle dress, the ballet flats on the child's feet a miniature version of the one on her own. The little girl was faceless, her features clouded in a stunning halo of light. Winona's bottom lip quavered, tilting her head to the side.
“Emily?”
“What, Mommy? You're being weird.”
Winona crouched down in front of the child, brushing the back of her hand against the girl's cheek, the light engulfing her fingers. Winona looked her up and down, flashing her a wobbling, watery smile.
“Look at you,” Winona breathed, her eyes gleaming with pride, “You're so big now.”
“That's cause I'm this many now,” chirped Emily in reply, thrusting five wiggling fingers into Winona's face.
“I've missed you –”
“I've missed you too, Mommy, but there's no time for that now! We've gotta get to the bakery before they close!”
“Alright, alright – strawberry sprinkles actually do sound pretty good.”
Emily wrapped both of her small hands around Winona's wrist and began to yank her towards the opposite direction. Winona peeked behind her shoulder at the bakery in confusion.
“I thought you wanted donuts –”
“Right but the ones I want are this way, Mommy!”
The intense, sharp whistling of an approaching train shrilled through the air, shattering the silence. Winona's mouth dropped open, squinting into the terrifying throng of commuters milling towards her. She tightened her grip
around Emily's hand and maneuvered them through the scowling, angst-ridden faces of pierced teens; unpleasant, sneering businessmen; and the puckered, unamused faces of tall youths in thick, wayfarer glasses and bright-colored pants two sizes too small. Winona sucked in her stomach as she shrank them up against the wall, the overwhelming rush hour mob shoving past them. Her chest swelled, the creases of her palms perspiring as she firmed her grasp around Emily's hand.
“Mommy, I'm scared –”
“Don't be – I'm right here,” Winona managed, her throat closing up.
The herd of commuters seemed to be multiplying quickly, flocking in from the steps of the entrance. Winona looked to her right, the gush of hurtling wind from the approaching silvery blur of the subway train whipping her hair against her face. She yelped, Emily's fingers slipping out from the clammy cusps of her hands. Winona's chest swelled, the hammering palpitations of her erratic heartbeat ringing in her ears as she merged into the crowd. She clawed helplessly at the frighteningly firm, nudging shoulders, Emily's startled, high-pitched cries floating further into the distance.
Three chimes sounded, signaling the closing of the train doors. A brief flurry of Emily's taffy-pink dress caught Winona's eye, disappearing behind the legs of a portly, pinstriped-suited man with a bowler hat as he elbowed his way through the doors, the metallic clunk of the doors shutting behind him. Winona's blood ran cold in her veins.
“EMILY!”
The spattering of commuters who were unable to embark the train began seceding, shambling to the side, allowing Winona to scurry up to the closed doors. She pounded her fists against the subway windows, elongating her neck as she peered inside. A pair of short, black pigtails bobbed up and down frantically amidst the crude, suffocating mass congregated inside the vehicle.
“EMILY! STOP! My daughter's in there – let me in!”
The wheels sputtered to life, hissing as it started up on the tracks. Winona ran alongside the train, her chest heaving as the vehicle gradually gained speed, vanishing into the tunnel. She crumbled to the ground, the bullets of her tears tainting the rouge on her cheeks. She looked around desperately, clinging onto the ankle of an alarmed middle-aged man in a train conductor's uniform.
“Please – you need to help me – my daughter's on that train, I don't – I can't lose her again.”
The man leaned towards her, his gold-rimmed frames sliding down the bridge of his nose. He curled his lip as he studied her wordlessly for a few moments, finally parting his lips. His mouth distorted, stretching inhumanely wide, the ringing sounds of a telephone pealing out the pitch-black space.
Winona's eyelids fluttered open, blindly reaching towards the blaring house phone on her bedside table. She tugged on the pull chain of her lampshade, a dim, reddish glow radiating the large space of her bedroom. She clicked on the “call” button, and slammed back down onto her mattress, bundling herself under her velvety cotton covers.
“Hello?” Winona whispered groggily into the receiver, knuckling her temples in circular motions.
“Winona, honey? Were you asleep? Sorry, I can call back another time –”
“It's fine, Dad,” yawned Winona, stretching her left arm over her head, “What's up?”
“You better sit down for this –”
“I'm swaddled in my sheets, laying in bed. I think I'll be fine. So what's going on, Dad? What's got you all excited?”
“You remember that application you sent in to Channel 8 News to shadow one of the anchors –”
“You mean the only thing I've been able to talk about for the past couple of weeks?” Winona interjected playfully, “Of course, Dad. What –”
“You got in, honey!”
“What?” gasped Winona, bolting upright, beaming, “Wait, how'd you –”
“Spencer called me himself –”
“Wait – I'll be working with Uncle Spencer?” repeated Winona, the color rising in her cheeks.
“Right – lucky you, he's the main anchor for Nightly News now, hundreds of people are dying to be in your shoes. Anyway – as it turns out, you'll be paired up with him. First your success with Scrub Loves and now this – I'm real proud of you, kiddo. And if your mom were still around, she'd be real proud of you, too.”
“Thanks, Dad,” whispered Winona, “You're amazing. I love you.”
“Love you too, kiddo. I'll see you around. Let me know how your first day goes, won't ya?”
“Will do, Dad.”
Winona ended the call and tossed the wireless phone to the side of her bed. She flipped her left arm over, grazing her fingertips lightly against the white, scripted calligraphy inked across her wrist - “Emily.” She continued to rub the tattoo, the corners of her lips slowly curving upwards as she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Two –
Winona smoothed the carefully-plaited french braid on the side of her head, leaning into her reflection against the mirrored glass windows of the building. She retrieved a silk handkerchief from her cross-body purse and blotted at the slight excess smudges of her dusty rose lipstick around the corners of the natural cupid-bow of her upper lip. With one final glance at her tailored, dove-gray blazer and her hip-hugging pencil skirt that hemmed across her kneecaps, she took a deep breath and proceeded towards the gold-plated, revolving doors.
Winona stopped short in her tracks, a sense of uncertainty brewing inside of her. She rubbed against the sleek patches on the elbows of her blazer, peering into the intimidating crowd of professionals bustling inside the grandiose establishment. She took a few steps backwards, her heels scratching against the pavement. Basking in her dreamlike daze, she collided into someone behind her.
“Excuse me! Watch where you're going.”
Winona gawked at the gorgeous older woman in a fitted, ladybug-red suit, exhibiting a face full of camera-ready make-up. The scowling woman tossed her caramel-blonde highlights behind her shoulders and blew a wisp of smoke out her lips, her mascaraed eyes a startling shade of caribbean blue. Winona nodded apologetically, an affable smile spreading on her lips as she extended a hand.
“Sorry about that – it's the klutz in me. My name's Winona Rockwell, I'm here for the internship and to be honest, I've got a terrible sense of direction. I'm supposed to be heading to Spencer Flynn's office. I was wondering if you could point me in the right –”
“So you're the new girl working with Spence?”
Winona faltered in her step as the woman eyeballed her up and down. The woman lifted her chin in the air, taking another long drag from the slim cigarette clenched between her crystal acrylics, replying snottily, “I see Channel 8's lowered their standards. Sorry, I'm on my break.”
Winona's cheeks reddened at the unwarranted frostiness of the woman's tone, annoyed, “I take it you're the not part of the welcome committee.”
“I'll take you to Mr. Flynn. Morning, Kara.”
“Rhonda.”
The woman stubbed her cigarette out against the metal trashcan and chucked the roach into the bin. She nodded curtly, shooting Winona a quick sneer before disappearing through the doors of the building.
Rhonda was a plump, friendly-faced young woman in her late-twenties, dressed in a loose, green cardigan, her frizzy dark hair specked with glittery hair clips holding her untamable tresses into place. She picked up the laminated ID attached to a cord around her neck, tapping the plastic surface, “But first – you're gonna need one of these bad boys.”
“You're a lifesaver,” Winona grinned, sighing in relief.
“Don't worry, we're not all Karas around here. Come on,” said Rhonda, gesturing towards the doors, “Mr. Flynn's office is up on the 32nd floor.”
Spencer Flynn looked up from the highlighted dialogue of the script laid out in front of him, a short rapping sounding against his closed office door. He gathered the stack of papers into a neat pile on the center of his desk and took a quick sip from his water glass. Kneading at his neck, he cleared his smarting throat.
“Come in.”
His door creaked open, Rhonda's smiling face popping in through the slit, announcing, “Hope you're not in the middle of anything. Winona Rockwell's here to see you.”
“Yes, of course. Let her in. Thanks, Rhonda.”
Spencer rose from his chair, his eyes slowly widening at the sight of the stunning, curvy young woman in bright-pink frames mincing in through the doorway. The gleam atop the natural, bluish black hue hair shifted as she stepped towards him, the purplish tips of her satiny braid a fetching contrast to her professional attire. If it weren't for Winona's unchanged set of heavy-lidded, coffee-inspired eyes and the unique sandy bronze blend of her skin, he would never have recognized her.
“Mr. Flynn, hi – I'm Winona, Richard Rockwell's daughter. I don't think you'd remember this but we met in 2007 at a family get-together –”
“Of course,” Spencer responded, his voice slightly strained. He cracked a smile, “How could I forget? You were quite the little entrepreneur. You had me test out one of the first batches of your – what was it – coconut extract homemade moisturizers, I believe.”
Winona's grin broadened, flustered, “I can't believe you remembered all that. It's a little embarrassing – or not – it was business.”
“You've grown,” said Spencer softly, a dashing, desirous look flashing across his eyes. He started, hurriedly motioning towards the white chair across his desk, “Sorry, have a seat – and how could I forget? Scrub Loves was one of the biggest online successes of 2011. I don't know a lot of 19-year-olds that paid their own way through college.”
“Thanks, I –” Winona's voice trailed off, noticing Spencer's lingering eyes on her chest, the top buttons of her blouse loosened to accommodate her rounded, heavy breasts. “– I appreciate that.”
