Daddy's Best Friend (Forbidden Temptations)

by Sofia T Summers

  If he wouldn’t listen to me, if he was going to be this hot and cold, infuriating, possessive asshole, then damn it, I was going to give him what for with my body instead of my words. I yanked at his clothes, kissing him fiercely, with everything in me. I wanted him to be out of his damn mind with lust for me, I wanted him so out of control that he couldn’t refute anything I said anymore.

  John’s kisses were biting this time, his fingers tight enough to bruise me, and I relished it. John could play all day long like we were a bad idea, and he didn’t feel anything for me. He could make up whatever excuse he felt like as to why he was acting like this, claiming it was everything under the sun except jealousy. But his body couldn’t lie to me. His kisses and his tight hold on me spoke volumes, and I knew that he wanted me.

  If only he would give us a proper chance.

  My anger, disappointment, and frustration fueled me, and I yanked him back, sending the both of us stumbling against Dad’s desk. This was so hot and taboo, far beyond anything I’d ever imagined, far worse than having sex in a kitchen with his daughter asleep nearby. It was so wrong, but God, it was so sexy at the same time. I couldn’t stop.

  John grabbed me by the hips and spun me around, shoving my skirt up. I braced myself on the desk, careful to avoid sending a paperweight or a photo flying, as John kissed at my neck and dragged his fingers over my underwear. His other hand found my breast and squeezed, and I gasped at the spike of lust inside of me.

  His touches were never enough to actually hurt me, but they were just rough enough to have me moaning. I arched against him, rubbing my ass back and feeling his erection as John shoved my underwear aside, not even bothering to take it off properly, and rubbed at my slick folds directly.

  It took everything in me to keep quiet. If someone overheard us now—most people had left for the day and were gone but God, we’d be in so much trouble, more so than if Angelica had woken up and heard me moaning the other day. I bit my lip hard and struggled against my instinct to whimper John’s name.

  Fuck… he slid his fingers into me, curling them, two at once, and I bucked against his hand. It felt so good, and part of me wanted to be demanding, to make him work for it, but at the same time I couldn’t hide how good he made me feel, how turned on I was. I was putty in his hands and always had been, and always would be.

  John bit the back of my shoulder through my shirt and I gasped, grinding hard against his clothed erection with my ass. I felt him shudder against me, and it gave me a dark pleasure to know that he was as turned on as I was, that he was just as out of control as I was even if he was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t.

  You’re mine, I wanted to scream, to sob. Just admit it! You’re mine, and I’m yours, all yours…

  But he wouldn’t listen to me. He didn’t want to admit that. And that just spurred me on more, drove me to greater heights of frustration and anger, and I ground down against his hand, daring him silently. Go on, fuck me. You won’t date me, God forbid you do that, but sure, why not, you’ll fuck me well enough.

  At last, I was wet and open enough, and John slid his fingers out. I heard him undoing his pants and I shivered. Even with how conflicted and angry I was, I couldn’t deny how turned on he made me, how much I desired him.

  John slid his cock into me, and I hated how it felt almost like coming home.

  21

  John

  Fuck. Sliding into Izzi was like walking into my bedroom at night—intimate and familiar.

  I tried to ignore that. I was seeing red, possessive, angry, but I still refused to admit to myself that this could be something more. If I focused on the sex, made it all about that, then I could ignore the way I wanted to pull Izzi close and make her mine, truly mine.

  It would never work, the angry—and sensible, or so I told myself—part of my mind whispered. It would never work between you two anyway. This is all it should be.

  My hands found Izzi’s breasts again and I could feel her struggling to stay quiet. That was so hot, knowing that she wanted to moan and beg for me but that she couldn’t, that she had to hold herself back.

  I rested my forehead against her shoulder, taking in deep breaths, focusing and trying not to completely lose myself inside of her. Even in the height of my torrent of feelings I wanted this to be good for her, too. I wanted to show her that no man, not Andrew and not anyone else, could ever make her feel as good as I did.

  With a muffled groan, I began to thrust inside of her. Izzi looked like she might be leaving tiny grooves from her nails in the desk, that was how hard she gripped it, and that only made me feel more savage. I shoved myself into her hard and fast, with everything I had, and I rejoiced in her trembles and the arched curve of her back.

  From this position I could fondle her breasts and play with her clit as much as I wanted, and I took full advantage, working her up into a lather. I loved feeling her come around me, that tight rippling sensation of her pussy so satisfying and delicious, and I had no damn patience this time.

  Izzi came hard—fuck, she really was sensitive with her breasts and it was so fucking satisfying—and I groaned at the sensation around my cock. She was tight and perfect, fucking perfect for me, and the idea of anyone else, of someone like Andrew getting to have her instead, drove me to the edge of madness.

  I gripped her hips and fucked her harder, my fingers rubbing mercilessly at her clit. Izzi gasped, choking on the sounds she was trying to hold in, and I bucked my hips. I was so fucking close, I couldn’t hold back with her, but I wanted to feel her orgasm around me again, I was addicted to it, to her, I wanted it more than my next damn breath—

  I came hard, swallowing down the groan I wanted to give, spilling inside of her. I was buried in her right up to the damn hilt, the obscene slap of my balls against her ass only driving me crazier, and when I felt the evidence of my orgasm sliding back down my cock, staining her skin—if I’d been younger, I would’ve gotten hard all over again.

  But I wasn’t younger. I wasn’t Izzi’s age or anywhere near it. For God’s sake, I was literally about the same age as her father.

  I slid out of her and grabbed the tissues that Garrett always kept in a box on his desk, wiping both of us off. I didn’t know what to say. That was a mistake, obviously, but I had said that so many times already.

  With a small sigh, Izzi turned around and straightened up—and I realized, now that I could see her face, that she was crying.

  “Did I hurt you?” Was any of that nonconsensual? Was—

  “No,” Izzi assured me. “No, I wanted it, you didn’t hurt me.”

  Her voice was strained, and I reached out to touch her, only Izzi slapped my hand away.

  Fuck. She wasn’t crying because she was sad or hurt, she was crying because she was angry.

  Izzi ferociously wiped at her eyes, clearly doing her best to maintain her composure, and yanked her clothes back into place. “Don’t,” she snapped as I opened my mouth. “Don’t say anything.”

  She looked as professional as she could, but she had still obviously been crying when she practically fled the office, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone on the desk.

  Shit.

  Thank fuck it was late in the afternoon and just about everyone else had gone home. Nobody would see her upset and leaving the office—and if they did, she’d come from her dad’s office, not mine, so people would assume it had to do with a family thing.

  But fuck, was I mortified.

  I couldn’t believe I’d done that. All the other times I had a bit of an excuse—the first time she’d literally sat in my lap, the second time we’d had a casual and intimate evening together with my daughter—but this? Snapping and fucking her roughly in the heat of an argument? That wasn’t me. That woman was doing things to my head, making me dominant and commanding and out of control in a way that I never was the rest of the time.

  What was more, the argument was all my fault. I’d snapped at Andrew in front of her earlier, I’d been a
possessive asshole, and now she wanted to go and find another job. And I’d insulted her over it! It felt like all I could do was hurt her. That wasn’t the kind of man I was. What was wrong with me?

  Maybe it would be best if she went and got another job somewhere else. We could delay the launch a little, let Andrew pinch-hit on the marketing, we already had some new people hired for the department and they could do some grunt work. It would be bad publicity for us, losing two marketing heads in so short of a time, especially when one of them was the daughter of one of the co-founders and CEOs. But we’d still find a way to land on our feet. We’d still make it work.

  Clearly, I couldn’t be around Izzi without losing my damn head in one way or another, and it wasn’t fair to her. It could only hurt her.

  I had no idea how long I half-sat on the desk, half-stood there, like a total idiot, but at last the changing light in the office reminded me of what time it was, and I hastily cleaned everything up. I was glad there was a cleaning crew that came in during the early hours of the morning—they’d be able to take out the trash and clear out anything suspicious that I’d overlooked.

  When I got home, I still couldn’t stop thinking about Izzi, and how much I’d fucked this up. I had been punishing her when I was unsure in my head about what was going on and how I was feeling, and that wasn’t right by her.

  Luckily, Angelica was going to a friend’s house for a sleepover. After her lackluster weekend with Penny while I was at the conference, I wanted to let her have some fun to make up for it. That really only solidified my feeling that Penny and I shouldn’t be a couple. I couldn’t be with someone Angelica didn’t enjoy spending time with.

  Penny was a whole other situation I didn’t know how to handle. But first, Izzi.

  Since Angelica was with someone else for the night, I drove over to Izzi’s apartment. I’d never been before, although Garrett had told me about it since he and his wife had helped Izzi to move in.

  To say Izzi was surprised to see me when she opened her door was probably an understatement. She looked wary, too, like I might start berating her again, and that just made me feel even more like a heel.

  I held up the cupcakes I’d picked up—red velvet, her favorite, she’d had a red velvet birthday cake every year since she was a young teenager. “Hey, is it okay if I come in? I want to apologize.”

  “Oh.” Izzi seemed to consider for a moment, then stepped back to let me in. “Thank you.”

  I gave her the cupcakes and she took them and put them in the fridge.

  “Look, this isn’t really about you. You’re not the problem here. I’m the problem. I’m not managing things well here.” I took a deep breath. “I haven’t been with anyone since Laura died.”

  Izzi looked at me in surprise. “Um. I suspected as much but I was… younger so it wasn’t really talked about around me, explicitly. I was wondering about one-night stands. You’re a handsome, healthy man, I wouldn’t blame you.”

  I shook my head. “No. It hasn’t happened. And so, I feel really out of my depth, with you. But it does feel good to be desired. To know that you want me. And it feels good to desire you.”

  Izzi blushed and looked down at her feet, smiling a little.

  “Trust me, desiring you is not a problem,” I said. “I want you so fucking badly. And I promise to try to work on myself, but I do think—it’s unwise for us to continue what’s building between us.”

  Izzi looked up to meet my eyes again. Opening up was hard, but I was glad that I was doing it. She looked a lot less hurt and a lot calmer, now.

  “I’m still your boss, and I’m still your father’s best friend. As much as I do enjoy our sex, and I really, really fucking do, that’s not how we can make our decisions in life. We have to think about how everything else will be affected. It’s important that we ignore this attraction so there will be no other… escapades, like this afternoon.”

  Izzi winced. “That was a mistake this afternoon, I can agree on that. When I think about where we did it—I want to shrivel up and die. Especially the state of mind we were in. But I also don’t—regret that we did it at all.”

  She looked at me, hope and desire in her eyes, and I understood that, I really did. Hell, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her right at that moment. I wanted to wipe away all of the hurt and pain that I’d caused her and replace it all with pleasure. A part of me really wanted to dive into this thing head-first and see where it led us, what this amazing chemistry could do for us.

  But I also stood by my words.

  “Our connection is something that I—I really like,” I admitted. “But I know you’d regret it, too, if our sexual relationship led to problems with your father, or problems with the company.”

  Izzi looked crestfallen, but also resigned. She nodded.

  I wanted to kiss her. It was an overwhelming urge, to kiss her softly and sweetly the way that she deserved, not the wild passion of earlier that day when we’d been caught up in anger. I didn’t want our last coupling, our last intimate moment, to have been angry.

  But I couldn’t do that. No matter how much I wanted to, goddammit I had to stay strong.

  “Goodnight,” I told her, and then I left. Even though it made me feel empty inside.

  22

  Izzi

  I couldn’t stop thinking about my chat with John last night.

  Or, rather, the chat that John had with me. I hadn’t really said much. What could I possibly say? My heart had been racing. Of course, I’d appreciated how much he was thinking about the consequences and my heart went out to him with all that he’d said. I was so glad and grateful that he was able to admit his own mistakes and how this was hard for him, and that he was able to apologize for his actions. It was really mature of him and had only made me want him more, to know that this was the sort of man who would own up to what he’d done wrong and would apologize without excuses and could take responsibility for himself.

  But how could I possibly continue to pursue him when he had said those things? He had been so tender and serious. I couldn’t possibly upset him by trying to pursue him when he’d made it clear how hard this was for him.

  I hadn’t talked about this with Emma yet. I was so torn. I didn’t know what to do.

  My phone rang.

  Not my office phone, but my cell phone, with an unknown number. That was odd. I picked up anyway. It was probably a telemarketer, but it might be someone important and with my new position, I couldn’t afford to take the risk.

  “Hello, Izzi Greene speaking.”

  “Hi, Izzi.” The voice was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. “It’s Penny, I’m a good friend of John Goodman’s.”

  Oh, Penny, right. Why would she be calling me?

  “I was hoping you’d be available, and we could get lunch together today?” Penny’s voice was the kind of firm that told me she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “Um. Sure.” I had no idea what this was about, but I didn’t have anything else planned and she seemed serious.

  We set up a time, and a place to meet, and then Penny hung up.

  I texted Emma at once. What the hell was that all about?

  Emma texted back almost at once. I think this could be a good sign. Maybe John’s getting serious about you and his friend wants to check you out and make sure you’re right for him. I know I’d do the same if I was in her shoes.

  I wasn’t sure about that, but I had already committed, and I was going to get my answer, one way or another.

  Penny was already seated at a table when I got there. I sat down and she smiled at me, but it wasn’t at all warm. “Why don’t we order first?”

  After that was taken care of, I cleared my throat. “Not that I’m not grateful for the invitation, but may I ask what this is about? It’s clear you’ve got something on your mind.”

  “Smart girl,” Penny said, but it was condescending. “Maybe I just wanted to see for myself what kind of woman could finally get John t
o have a hookup, and with a colleague no less, after twelve years of celibacy.”

  Oh shit, John had told her about the hookup in Los Angeles? I’d had no idea.

  My face must have said it all, because Penny nodded as our food was set in front of us. “Yes, he told me about it. John tells me everything. That’s the kind of relationship we have. One based on true trust and shared experiences and time.”

  I frowned. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Penny leaned in. “I knew John before Angelica was born. I knew Laura, too. She was a lovely woman, a good person and a good friend. I know what it did to John, losing her. It was so hard on him, he made a promise to never be with another woman. To never marry again.”

  She leaned back in her chair, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Did you know that?”

  I hadn’t, no. I’d known there was something up, I’d known that John was hurting, but I hadn’t known he’d made a vow. I wasn’t sure even Dad knew about that. If he did, he’d done a good job of keeping it to himself all these years.

  “No,” I said honestly.

  “Look.” Penny picked at her food. “I don’t know if it’s just because John’s handsome and good in bed or if you’re trying to piss your daddy off, but this has to stop.”

  I stared at her. “I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say to me?” I blurted out, too shocked to be polite.

  Penny glared at me. “I know people like you. Spoiled rich kids who get everything they want and treat people like playthings. I won’t let you do that to a good man, an amazing man, like John.”

  “How dare you,” I hissed, rage boiling up in me. “How dare you presume to know me when we’ve barely ever spoken. I don’t know who you think you are, but from where I’m sitting, you’re the jealous bitch who’s pissed I slept with John instead of you.”