Unsatiated with Dad's Best Friend: Taboo Romance

by Ami Snow

  “I’m fine; I just need to get cleaned up.” Her voice was tense, and she prayed she’d make it to the bathroom before she broke down into tears.

  “Let me help you baby,” he said and there was a catch in his voice.

  She nodded and gripped his arm as he led her to the bathroom. Then he went and got all of her clothes bringing them to her.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Nope, I just need to be alone now.”

  He nodded but was clearly unhappy. “Okay I’ll be in my office just holler if you need me.”

  Angel felt bad. She wasn’t angry with him. He was gentle and he was caring. She was unsure, and she was in pain. She locked the door and slid against it to the floor ignoring the pain that tore through her body. Sobs wracked her body, and she did her best to be silent knowing he’d hear her.

  “Buck up Angel,” she whispered to herself and then pulled herself off of the ground. She was stronger than that. Taking slow steps she took care of business and gingerly slid her panties back on and got dressed. There wasn’t much she could do until she got home, but she wanted to clean up her tears. It was bad enough she cried, but she didn’t like the puffy red eyes.

  She also didn’t want to make him feel worse. She got lucky. A lot of men wouldn’t have been that sweet, and she could tell how hard it was for him to take it slow with her. As if he was so aroused he wanted to drive into her. He could have very easily taken to his pleasure only, but he made sure she enjoyed it, and in truth once the pain went away for that few minutes she had enjoyed it, very much. It was the after that wasn’t so fun.

  Angel composed herself and smiled. She was not a virgin anymore. She walked out of the bathroom and grimaced, but covered it up before she stepped into Grayson’s office. He looked at her frowning.

  “Are you feeling any better?”

  “I’m okay really. A good night’s sleep and I’ll be as good as new.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, but let it go. “Well let’s get you home. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  She nodded and smiled. He was sweet. Sweeter than what she had heard about him, and sweeter than the interview. He didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. She couldn’t help but stare. He was attractive, even more attractive to her now. He guided her out of the office and the feel of his hand on her back reminded her of his touch. She’d really liked his touch.

  The office was dark and silent. Everyone had left hours before. She hadn’t even gotten to meet anyone or venture out into the big open area. Grayson opened the door leading her out into the dimly lit parking lot. Her car and his were the only two left and the sound of her heels clicking on the cement echoed loudly in her ears. She pulled her keys out and opened her door.

  Grayson stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. He watched her and she sighed. He looked terrible. He was a man; shouldn’t he be happy he had gotten off? So far he proved to be different than any man she’d ever met, and he contradicted his reputation.

  She stepped in front up him and tipped her head back. “Kiss me.”

  His eyes lit and a small smile curved his lips as he leaned in brushing his lips on hers in a soft gentle kiss, but before he was able to pull back Angel stood on the tips off her toes and held him in place as she deepened the kiss. She wanted to show him she was all right. She took the lead and let all her built up passion out. Passion she wasn’t even aware she had. He moaned when she sucked his lip before tangling her tongue with his.

  Then he backed her against her car and the tension from his body released. It was almost as if he was worried that she was angry. He seemed too subdued, and it broke her heart. He pulled back and his brows creased. “You’re okay?”

  “Yes, I told you I was.” She replied and pecked his lips. “I better go so I get at least a few hours of sleep. I still have to pack.”

  Grayson surprised her again by hugging her body to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her. “Good night baby. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Angel nodded and nibbled her lip. He seemed totally at ease now and that was strange. Was what happened something more than a small office thing? The even bigger question, did she want it to be?

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning Angel waited outside of her house so she didn’t have to deal with the twins’ machoism. They knew immediately something was different with her, and as per normal they beat their chests vowing to kill the man who deflowered their baby sister. She laughed and shook her head smacking them both. Then she kindly reminded them she was a grown ass woman and even though it was sweet, she was more than capable of taking care of herself. They grumbled and growled over her being so unappreciative of their loyalty. She sent them to their rooms pouting. It was quite great.

  She smiled thinking about the night before. Now that she woke up in barely any pain she could think about things differently. She really liked him, and she planned to take these four days to get to know him. If she was going to be sleeping with him she would insist on knowing him.

  The car pulled up right on time and she stood and picked her bags up. Grayson jumped out and frowned. “At least let me try to be a gentleman.”

  She beamed and her cheeks tightened from smiling too much. Oh hell, she was one of those girls. She never thought the day would come that she would be giddy over something a man did. She swore she never would be. Apparently sex changed things.

  “Morning,” she said and handed her bags to him. When he would have walked away she yanked him back and tipped her head back.

  He got the hint and kissed her. She felt his smile against her lips. “I can’t get over this. I haven’t smiled this much in so long. There’s something about you Angel James.”

  She kissed him again and nodded. “I feel it too.”

  He eyed her cautiously, hopeful. “You do?”

  “Yes, it’s early, but I look forward to getting to know you.”

  “Me too. I was worried you wouldn’t like me so much today.”

  She leaned into him as they walked to his car. “I think I like you better than before.”

  “Good to hear baby. Now get your ass into the car so we can get on the road. We’ve got a long drive and a lot to do.”

  She nodded and waited for him to open her door before climbing in. It felt like she was going away on a trip with her boyfriend rather than going on a business trip with her boss. She worried her lip wondering how it would work. She knew how to be professional of course, but she wasn’t sure how it would work. When he got in the car he glanced at her and sighed.

  “Keep it professional during business and then the rest of the time touch me any way you desire.”

  “How’d you know what I was thinking?”

  “I guessed, because it was the same thing I was thinking. It’s going to be damn hard to keep my hands off of you though.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive Grayson,” she replied.

  He nodded but was clearly unhappy with the restrictions he had to set. She got it, she laid her hand on his thigh and wondered how long they’d be able to keep their new relationship quiet, and what would happen when it came out. Because now that she had him she wasn’t sure she would want things to end. She’d find a new job if she had to. Finally Angel found something she was willing to be selfish about, and didn’t feel one ounce of shame.

  THE END

  Satisfying the CEO’s Desire

  BDSM ROMANCE

  By: Amanda Bolton

  Satisfying the CEO’s Desire

  Chapter One –

  “Cleo Walsh?”

  I rose from my seat, the plastic chair squeaking underneath me as I crossed the room to the receptionist's station. Fiona, the middle-aged nurse behind the counter with the old-fashioned, bleached blonde bouffant, raised her eyebrows as I approached her, the crinkled corners of her lips stretching in a genial smile. She lifted her hawk-like nose, sniffing theatrically, her wandering eyes landing on the wicker basket rung around my arm.
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br />   “Cleo, sweetie,” Fiona chirped, the large, golden hoops on her ears swinging, “You just look more radiant every week, don't you?”

  “As do you,” I replied, beaming. I detected a tinge of summer-kissed bronze on her skin, winking, “You look positively glowing with your new tan – very Real Housewives of you.”

  “Oh, stop,” Fiona gushed, giggling, “I was finally able to use up a couple of vacation days – Joshua took me down to Daytona Beach for the weekend. Now, what's in that basket, Mrs. Fields?”

  “Snicker-doodles,” I answered, managing a smile, “They're Dad's favorite.”

  Fiona's laughter faded, her compassion projecting in her eyes, “Of course, sweetheart.”

  I retrieved a large, chilled tupperware from the bottom of the basket, filled with layers of custard, sliced bananas, and crumbled cookies. Fiona's eyes lit up as I laid it upon the counter.

  “Not like I'd forget how much you all love my famous banana pudding. Should be enough for all the nurses.”

  “You're an angel, Cleo,” Fiona raved, storing the pudding in the nurse's mini-fridge, “Would you like me to come with you –”

  “No,” I declined, turning on my heel, “I'm here every week. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

  The stringent aroma of isopropyl alcohol stung my nostrils as I strode down the corridor, mechanically veering left towards the common room of the Golden Sunrise Retirement. I greeted the nurses with a few quick hellos. Frowning, I looked around searchingly at the lifeless, stoic expressions etched across the lined faces of the gloomy-faced inhabitants. They were scattered amongst the round tables of the rooms, silently reading and playing muted games of cards and chess. My heart pattered in my chest, finally spotting my father in the far nook of the room.

  He was seated alone, the vivid rays of the sunlight irradiating his gnarled, weatherbeaten features. The right side of his face sagged slightly, never completely recovering from the stroke he suffered three years ago. I sighed as I studied the patches of wispy hair from afar, the glow of the sun shining them completely white. I felt a sharp yank on my heartstrings, recalling the dusty, childhood photographs I had gathered whilst cleaning up the family attic.

  Dixon Walsh was once a strapping, burly-chested man with a full head of bright, coppery hair, an established realtor with a successful career, and one of the friendliest faces at Sunday church gatherings. Mom used to call me her little bundle of miracles, as my parents were nearing their fifties when I was unanticipatedly conceived. When I was seven, Mom tragically passed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver in a pick-up truck, robbing my irreparable father of his wife of almost three decades, leaving him burdened with the solitary task of raising a child as he neared his golden years. His own health continued to deteriorate over the years, and now, at seventy-five, he was reduced to a scrawny, pitiful pile of skin and bones, cloaked in a ratty cardigan, the product of three strokes and a slow descent to dementia.

  I took a deep breath, plastering a cheerful, light-hearted smile on my face as I skirted past the other tenants towards my father. He pulled away when I leaned in to peck him on the cheek, my heart wrenching. I kept my smile on as I pulled up a chair next to him, setting my basket on the table. His eyes brightened, deeply inhaling the treacly, buttery aroma of fresh-baked cookies. The corners of his lips twitched, his heightened eyebrows relaxing as I produced a carefully wrapped tinfoil of a dozen, flat, cinnamon-crusted treats.

  “Lila – you came.”

  My bottom lip quivered at the sound of my mother's name, blinking away the tears springing to my eyes as I offered him a snicker-doodle.

  “Snicker-doodles,” my father rasped, smacking his lips, “My favorite – not that your other treats aren't just as delicious, but this has always deserved a pedestal of its own.” He reached for my hand, his cold, rumpled fingers grasping mine firmly, “You've always known how to brighten up my day, my sweet.”

  “Dad,” I gently whispered, smiling tenderly, “Dad, it's me –”

  He persisted, his lips coated with crumbs, clamping his other hand over mine as he gazed lovingly into my eyes, “Oh, Lila. I've missed you so much. Why haven't you come to see me in so long? It gets so goddamned lonely here, I'll tell ya – but it don't matter no more. You're here now.”

  I cocked my head to the side, soundlessly blinking at my father's glowing, buoyant expression. He devoured another cookie from the foil, licking the buttery morsels off his fingertips. I removed a green, glass bottle of sparkling water, my father's eyes widening as he recognized the fancy script writing on the label.

  “Here's a little something for you to wash it down with.”

  “Befreien!” my father exclaimed, his broad, toothy smile infectious, “What an exquisite treat – it's not my birthday, is it?”

  “No, Dad, it's –” I started, my words trailing off at the abrupt change in my father's expression.

  He took a long swig from the bottle, his forehead crumpling as he set his beverage on the table. My shoulders stiffened as his eyes bulged, shooting me a crazed, deathly glare. His eyes darted around wildly, glistening with his blatant confusion, his cracked lips contorting. A storm of panic began brewing within me. I reached over cautiously, yelping in surprise as he shot up from his chair, knocking over his drink, the spilling carbonated water bleeding into the navy-blue carpet.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Dad, please, it's me, Cleo –”

  A pair of nurses shuffled towards us, nodding at me apologetically as they guarded my father, attempting to appease his outbursts with their soothing voices. His brows knitted, staring at the three of us unblinkingly. I picked up the fallen bottle and placed it delicately on the table, my palms raised.

  “Dad, please, calm down, it's gonna be okay –”

  “Who're you calling Dad? Where's my mother? I demand to see her immediately –”

  The nurse on his left flashed me a sympathetic look, stating dolefully, “Sorry, Cleo, honey, he doesn't seem to be feeling well today –”

  “That's alright,” I sighed, rising from my chair, dusting crumbs off my lap. I turned towards my father, smiling wistfully, “I'll see you soon, Dad.”

  An icy blast shivered down my spine, my father's psychotic pleas ringing in my ears as I hustled out of the establishment. I crossed the street to a maroon station wagon, slipping into the passenger's seat.

  “What took you so long? Thought you were just dropping something off – you've kept me waiting for twenty minutes –”

  I ignored his harping, turning towards Mathias, who was rubbing his palms against the short buzz of his close-shaved cut in exasperation.

  A fat tear rolled down my cheek, “Dad's slowly losing it – he's getting worse every week. He loved the snicker-doodles, but he doesn't remember me anymore, he thought I was Mom–”

  “So the old man's officially lost his marbles,” Mathias cut me off gruffly, twisting his key in the ignition, “You knew this was coming – big deal. Buckle up, I'ma try to make the movies.”

  I stared out the window, sighing as the car sputtered to life.

  Chapter Two –

  I stood behind a line of wooden boxes crammed with secondhand toys, neatly folded clothes, and passed-on pieces of literature with wilted ears on their covers. With a genuine beam stretched across my rose-frost painted lips, I surveilled the happy faces of the shopping patrons milling about the rented space. The monthly charity drive I organized seemed to be kicking off to a good start, with a decent haul from the church donations.

  “Mommy, look! A Molly doll, just like yours!”

  “That's very nice, sweetie.”

  A little girl with an adorable, chestnut pixie cut, who couldn't have been more than eight, hovered over one of the toy bins, rifling through the tangled limbs. She picked up a stuffed, beanbag doll garbed in a ruffled, teddy-bear printed sundress, with long, coffee-brown yarn for hair and a miniature straw hat. The girl wrinkled her nose at the missing button of
the doll's eye.

  “Oh no,” the little girl exclaimed, pouting, “But she's only got one eye! She's ugly.”

  “Now, Nadine, that's not very nice,” her mother hissed, flustered.

  I bent forward, smiling, “Hey, Nadine. That's a lovely name. Can I tell you something about the Molly Doll?”

  “What's that?”

  “A little girl just like you used to love her with all her heart, but she's gotten too old for her. Now, the girl told me that the Molly Doll's eye was actually chewed off by her pit-bull, Scarface.”

  “Wow, really?” the little girl's eyes widened, marveling.

  “Really,” I assured her, grinning, “She's a fighter, this one. Look at it this way – she's special, dare I say, one-of-a-kind. You'll be the only little girl in all of Portland to own a Molly Doll with such a fierce backstory.”

  “Awesome!” the little girl beamed, clutching the doll to her chest, “I'm gonna take her home! Can I, Mommy? Please?”

  “Alright, alright,” her mother muttered, a faint smile on her lips as she delved into her purse, “How much for the doll?”

  I fished a crumpled twenty out of my pocket, dropping it into the cash box, nodding, “Don't worry about it – it's on me.”

  The mother handed me a twenty-dollar-bill, her brows furrowed, “Oh no, we shouldn't –”

  “I'd be happy to get it for Nadine,” I reassured her, ruffling the child's soft crop of hair, “The children at St. Paul's Orphanage thank you.”

  “Well, alright,” the mother relented, placing an arm around her daughter's shoulders, “What do we say?”

  “Thank you so much!”

  “No problem, Nadine. Have a great day!”