Intern For My Best Friend's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sophia

  I move my hands over my belly, nerves swirling and cascading endlessly. Ever since we made love on the yacht yesterday, I knew that we’d have to tell Caitlin eventually. Solomon told me as much when we went above deck.

  But knowing it and feeling it are two very different things.

  I look around the café, quiet at this time of the afternoon. The coffee machine hisses and seems ridiculously loud, as though the noise is twisting into my mind and trying to drive me crazy.

  My heart lightens when I see Solomon walking by the window, heading for the entrance. For a second, I forget about Caitlin and all the complications telling her brings, and I just admire how tall and handsome and dashing he is.

  And he’s mine.

  Forever.

  After I gave my virginity to him, we went above deck for some snacks and drinks, and then we returned to our cabin and made love a second time.

  I was nervous as heck as I climbed atop him, placing my hands on his chest, digging my fingernails into his irrepressible muscles.

  I imagined his lips parting into a laugh.

  But instead, his smirk became savage and focused, and his intense eyes stared into me like I was hypnotizing him.

  He swaggers over to me, standing over the table. I can tell he’s feeling this moment as much as I am by the way his body tenses, his shoulders bulging, everything about him looking pent-up and ready to explode.

  “Want a drink?” he asks.

  “I’ll take a soda,” I murmur. “I don’t think I could drink another coffee.”

  He nods, and then pauses and leans close to me. His cologne and his manly musk washing over me.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, Sophia,” he says. “I promise.”

  “How can you say that?” I murmur. “You don’t know.”

  “I do,” he says firmly. “It has to be.”

  He walks over to the counter and exchanges a few words with the barista.

  I study the window, and my heart feels like it’s going to leap out of my mouth when I spot Caitlin walking toward the entrance.

  She’s bobbing her head to a song, her purple earphones trailing down to her pin-covered bag. She looks so happy, so carefree, so freaking Caitlin.

  How can I do this to her?

  But I can’t walk away from what Solomon and I have.

  She takes out her headphones as she walks through the door, glances over at Solomon before her eyes settle on me. She walks over, brushing some of her hair from her face.

  “I didn’t know Dad was going to be here, too,” she smiles. “Or is this just some crazy coincidence?”

  “No,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry. “It’s not a coincidence.”

  She narrows her eyes, sitting down and reaching across the table. She places her hand atop mine the same way she’s done a dozen times before—no, hundreds, maybe even thousands. Countless times throughout my life, she’s been there for me, and now I’ve done this to her.

  I blink and feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” she murmurs, giving my hand a squeeze. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? Did something happen at work?”

  Of course, she’d think it has something to do with work. It’s the only thing that makes sense in this context, with her father standing at the counter, collecting my coffee. He’s ordered hot cocoa for Caitlin, which has always been her favorite, even in the summer.

  I find it hard to believe that something as paltry as a hot drink is going to make this all better, though.

  “No, yes, sort of,” I sigh. “It’s—”

  Suddenly, the door bursts open. It’s such a sudden movement – the metal door handle smashing against the opposite wall – everybody in the café turns toward the noise.

  My chest goes tight and rage flairs through me when I see Kenny, Caitlin’s stalker ex, walk into the café. His long black hair falls across his face, his hands twitching at his side. Three men swagger in behind him, each of them at least six and a half feet tall. They wear black suits and sunglasses.

  They look like hired bodyguards.

  No, thugs.

  “How the hell did Kenny afford bodyguards?” I murmur.

  “He’s dealing now,” Caitlin sighs. “Didn’t I mention that?”

  “No, Caitlin,” I snap. “You did not tell me that you’re psycho ex had started dealing drugs.”

  I take a breath, calming myself.

  “It doesn’t matter. Your security will be here soon, right?”

  She frowns over at me, her eyes shimmering.

  “You slipped your security, didn’t you?”

  When we were growing up, Caitlin got quite good at sneaking away from her father’s security team. She only manages this because part of their agreement is that they have to trail her from a distance, or she won’t let them follow her at all. She hasn’t done it in years, though.

  “Freaking hell,” I sigh. “Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” she cries, throwing her hands up. “I didn’t want them hounding me all the time.”

  I don’t know what to do.

  Kenny is walking over to us, his fists twitching in a way I don’t like. The men behind him seem to get bigger and bigger the closer they get until it’s like they’re eight feet tall.

  I know my fear is messing with my head, but I can’t stop more terror from spiking through my stomach, twisting, and torturing me.

  And then anger replaces the fear, urging me to my feet.

  I bolt up and point my finger at him, every part of me shaking with rage, fueled by what Solomon and I did on the boat – what we’re going to have to tell Caitlin – as much as this man, this asshole.

  Vignettes flood my mind, a million scenes of Caitlin crying and panicking and hating herself, and all because of this jerk-off.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snap. “You’ve got no right following her, you sick weirdo. You’ve got no right being anywhere near her.”

  Solomon steps between us, causing Kenny to pause.

  More fear spreads its gnarled hands inside of me when I see that Kenny’s goons are even taller and wider than Solomon, and there are three of them.

  This is really freaking bad.

  “Time to go,” Solomon snarls.

  His body is still as if he’s gathering all his primal energy, getting ready to release it.

  “Time to go?” Kenny laughs, sounding deranged like he’s on something. I wouldn’t put it past him. “Now where do you get off telling me where I can and can’t go, eh?”

  “You’re pathetic,” I snap, flaring rage forcing the words from between my lips.

  “Shut up, you fat bitch,” Kenny snarls.

  Solomon takes a step forward.

  “Apologize,” he says flatly.

  “Or what?”

  Solomon’s hands curl into fists. A vein pulsing in his neck.

  “Or I’ll make you apologize. You’ve got no right talking to my woman like that, you junkie fuck. So you apologize or say goodbye to your teeth.”

  “Your woman?” Kenny says and then lets out a hyena-like cackle.

  Caitlin’s gaze flits to me and to her dad, her eyes wide in question. All I can do is shake my head and fight the tears that try to stream down my cheeks, that try to erupt and morph my rage into something else.

  “What is he talking about?” Caitlin murmurs. “Dad, what’re you talking about?”

  “I …” Solomon sighs. “I’ll explain once this junkie motherfucker has said he’s sorry and left peacefully.”

  “Just go, Kenny,” Caitlin snaps. “We went on a few dates. It didn’t work out. That’s life. There’s something wrong with you, just leave me alone.”

  “Something wrong with me?” he yells, laughing again in that unhinged way. “I’m not the one whose best friend is fucking her dad.”

  Caitlin looks at me again, a plea in her eyes. I can’t tell if the shimmering tears
are because Kenny’s here or because of what she’s just learned.

  In all the ways I imagined today going, it was never like this.

  Solomon growls out a sigh. “Leave.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “They’ve called the police, you idiot,” I yell, gesturing at the counter, hoping it’s true. “So I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Kenny chuckles. He licks his lips, a grotesque movement that makes me feel as though worms are crawling down my spine. “I’m taking what’s rightfully mine. Boys.”

  It’s like the men in the black suits are machines.

  The moment Kenny gives the command, they start inching forward, hands raised as though to grab Caitlin.

  “Last chance,” Solomon says. “Apologize. Leave. Or I won’t have a choice.”

  “You think your gym muscle scare me, jackass?” Kenny laughs. “These men are fucking MMA trained. Give it your best shot.”

  Solomon shrugs.

  “Alright, then.”

  The first man – the tallest, with a scar across his jaws – ducks and makes as if to punch Solomon in the face. Solomon spins away quickly, far quicker than I would’ve imagined a man of his size could move.

  He makes a tsk sound as he throws a counter punch, catching the man in the scarred jaw. The force sends him flipping over sideways, letting out a strangled coughing noise as he collides with the next table.

  A tray flips over and glass shatters loudly on the floor.

  Solomon spins, moving with the grace of a dancer.

  Suddenly, perversely, I imagine us dancing on our wedding day, my man spinning me around the same way he does now.

  The other two men leap at him, their fists darting out like professional fighters.

  I’ve only ever seen a few fights in my life – mostly in high school – and this is nothing like that.

  They attack efficiently, wasting no time with their movements, their punches lashing out like whips.

  But Solomon is quicker.

  He ducks one punch and then catches the other on his arm, letting out a carnal roar as he leaps forward and head-butts one man so hard he collapses backward, his sunglasses shattering and falling from his face.

  The third man grunts as he throws another big looping strike, but it’s like Solomon senses it coming. He pulls his head out of the way just enough, that I imagine Solomon must be able to feel a little puff of air against his face, and then he lunges forward with the ferocity of a jungle cat.

  He grabs the man by the shoulders and throws him to the ground.

  The man goes flying and slams into the same table the other man crashed into, both of them falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

  “No, no, no,” Kenny whines, as Solomon moves purposefully toward him. “I’m sorry, man. Shit—I’m sorry.”

  Kenny pulls a knife and swipes at the air, making a hiss-hiss noise.

  Solomon steps back, head tilted patiently. He looks like a predator when he stands like that, listening to the sounds of the three goons, groaning and grumbling as they try to recover from their injuries.

  After a third knife swing, Solomon leaps forward and pins Kenny’s arm to the side of his head by jamming his arm under his armpit. He hooks his other arm around his throat and lifts him off the ground. Kenny’s eyes widen and he kicks and cries out, flailing like a kid picked up by a grownup.

  “Apologize to my lady,” Solomon snarls. “Or I’ll break your goddamn neck.

  “I’m sorry,” Kenny cries. “I shouldn’t have—ah, man, please.”

  “You shouldn’t have what?” Solomon snarls.

  “I shouldn’t have called you that,” Kenny breathes.

  My heart floods with relief, with love, with contentment.

  I know that violence shouldn’t make me feel this way, but it’s not the fists and the blood and the pain.

  It’s the knowledge that, whatever happens, Solomon is always going to protect me.

  He’ll never let bullies call me wicked and untrue names.

  Yes, untrue, because what he said doesn’t matter when my man looks at me like I’m a supermodel.

  “Call your goons off,” Solomon snarls, when the men start to clamber to their feet.

  “Fellas, don’t touch them,” Kenny whines.

  “And now apologize to Caitlin, you goddamn worm.”

  “I’m sorry,” he moans. “You’re right. There’s something wrong with me. I should’ve just left you alone.”

  Sirens cut through the air, growing closer, and Solomon’s eyes sear into me.

  They burn with his passion, his protective rage, his need to keep me safe.

  But there’s something else, too.

  It takes me a second to identify it.

  It’s not fear, but it’s something close, shimmering beneath the surface.

  Caitlin knows, his eyes roar silently at me. I never wanted her to find out like this.

  I glance at Caitlin, but she’s staring at the floor, tears glistening in her eyes.

  She’s barely holding them back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Solomon

  We sit on the balcony of my penthouse as the setting sun turns the city a bruised purple color. I can feel Sophia’s nerves radiating from her, see them in the way she bites her lip and grips her hands together.

  That lip biting still gets the primal part of me stirring, even if I know we’re supposed to be focused on talking with Caitlin about our relationship.

  “Do you think she’s going to come?” Sophia murmurs, pulling her knees to her chest.

  She’s still in her work clothes, her white shirt unbuttoned enough to show me a tempting slice of her bra. Her thighs tucked into her flood my manhood with tension, inappropriate tension considering the circumstances.

  But I can’t stop myself from drinking in the sight of her, hungrily, greedily, like the beast I am.

  “She’s on her way,” I tell her. “I’ve just spoken with her driver.”

  “Oh,” Sophia murmurs, shivering.

  “Are you cold?” I ask.

  “No,” she says. “I’m just …”

  I sigh, nodding.

  “I know.”

  After the fight in the café, we had to give our statements to the police. And then Caitlin stormed off, demanding to be left alone. She wouldn’t even look at me as she marched out of the police station and into her Uber. I watched her go, a pit opening up in my stomach, a pit with teeth that bit and tortured and told me that everything wasn’t going to work out after all.

  “What are we going to do if she’s not okay with this?” Sophia sighs.

  I reach across and smooth a wavy strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, savoring the way she shivers and turns toward the movement as though she wishes we could just do this, just be together, and not have to worry about the rest of the world.

  I know how she feels, but we have to make things right with Caitlin.

  “Solomon,” she murmurs. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “All I know is, if I don’t stop touching you now, I’ll never be able to.”

  She bites her lip again, but her eyes take on a different quality, shimmering with a thousand unspoken desires. I envision grabbing her and guiding her to the balcony railing, bending her over, and tearing down her pants.

  I haven’t taken her cute slit from behind yet, but the next time we have sex I’m going to. I’ll fuck her ragged and raw and ferociously, watching as my thick cock disappears between those made-to-be-spanked ass cheeks.

  “Solomon,” she says. “We can’t. Not now.”

  “I know,” I sigh, darkness creeping into my voice. “Goddamn, you drive me wild.”

  The elevator makes a beep noise from the apartment, signaling that Caitlin is here.

  Sophia leaps to her feet as though the noise has just sent an electric shock ricocheting through her body. I reach across to
give her a supportive squeeze on the shoulder, but then let my hand drop when I see the uncertainty twisting her lips.

  We both turn as Caitlin appears at the balcony glass door. She’s changed into black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, reminding me of her Goth phase in high school.

  It’s so strange to think of those days, with my Goth daughter and her friend having sleepovers in Sophia’s childhood home. I never could’ve dreamed that the dorky girl in braces would come to mean the world to me.

  “Hello,” she says quietly, walking over to the table.

  She walks around it and takes the seat on the other side of Sophia and me, as though wordlessly telling us it’s us against her.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask.

  “No,” she says. “I just want to find out what the hell’s going on, really. And how long. And why. And when. And everything … I want to know everything.”

  I sigh and sit down, nodding for Sophia to do the same. She stays standing for a few long moments and then, after letting out a short shaky sigh, she drops back into her seat and lays her hands on the table.

  “Cait, you need to know I’d never hurt you,” Sophia says.

  “You think I don’t know that?” Caitlin snaps. “Or didn’t know that, anyway?” She picks at the edge of the table with her thumbnail. “I just don’t understand how this happened.”

  “It happened quickly,” I say, struggling to hide the shivering emotion in my voice, the need, the pain, and the rage.

  The rage is the worst, aimed at myself for the way I’ve shaken up my daughter’s world.

  “How quickly?”

  “The day I started at Solomon Sky Digital,” Sophia murmurs.

  Caitlin’s eyes almost explode out of her head. She leans back, turning from me to Sophia and back again as though we’ve gone crazy.

  “That was like a week ago,” she gasps. “How can that be possible?”

  “When you know, you know,” I say. “I invited her up to my office like I do with all my new employees, and something just clicked. I can’t explain it. It was like … goddamn it, I don’t care if I sound cheesy. It was like the world finally made sense to me. This isn’t just a fling, Caitlin. Sophia means everything to me. I’m going to be with her for the rest of my life.”