by Amy Brent
“I want you to make love to me like you did last night,” I said whispering against his wet, beaded flesh.
“Mm. Like this?” He closed the distance and brought his mouth down on me as he slipped his cock in and out nice and slow. “I’m not done with you yet, Gemma Cassidy.” Hearing my full name on his lips was strange, and I couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it.
“I wonder if you’ll ever call me Gemma Porter?” I gave him a sideward look, and he nodded.
“Marry me, and we’ll see.” I gave a soft laugh, but only because I’d somehow always known his proposal would be a demand. Whitt Porter didn’t ask often. “I’d love to. When?”
“I think we better stick with long engagements, but I’ll tell you this, I want to be your husband before the baby comes.” My heart ached with joy as tears splashed my cheeks with hot tears, much warmer than the pool water.
“I wasn’t asking for a proposal, but I’m so glad I got one. I love you, Whitt. I can’t wait to be the mother of your child and watch him grow together. We’re going to be good parents.”
“You’re going to be an amazing wife and mother, baby.”
He leaned in and kissed me, this time taking my lips with intent and determination as his cock swelled inside of me. And before we’d even finished, we’d started again.
Dad’s Best Friend
Chapter 1
Cole
It always felt good to head out to the Hamptons. The stretch of the highway leaving the hustle and bustle of Manhattan felt like freedom—a much-needed break from the shit-show of a week at Crayton, Inc.
I rolled the windows down to enjoy the calm, and the late summer breeze rippled my hair as the road twisted around to the affluent Summers family’s home. The mansion sat on a sprawl of ten acres with a long and guarded driveway and a heated pool along the backside of the house. Rose bushes, Gloria’s favorite white roses, poked out of the iron gate that surrounded the entire property along with large willow and oak trees. It was beautiful, and as I expected, there was a great number of cars parked around the Summers’ property.
I drove up to the gated fence. It was tempting to pull away, back up, and go to my Bayfront mansion a few miles south. My idea of spending Labor Day weekend was sitting alone in my house with a bottle of whiskey, but after turning down every event Gloria and Alan invited me to because of some work conflict or other, I had to deal with it this time. Alan Summers was the only true friend I had left in the world after the past fifteen years of my life. I could deal with all the fake smiles that would greet me.
I pushed the button on the intercom box.
“Summers residence,” a male voice spoke briskly. “Only guests on the list are invited in. No photographers or reporters.”
“It’s Cole Crayton,” I said.
“Please drive in, sir. Mind the gate as it closes.”
The gate buzzed open a second later. I pulled up the paved driveway as the gate swung closed behind me. I stopped alongside Alan’s gold Escalade that was parked in front of the detached garage. The mansion’s door opened as I climbed out of the car. I was glad to be off the hot leather seat after driving for a few hours. I turned to greet Alan with a smile as he walked up.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Alan said. “The drive up here a bitch with all the traffic?”
“It wasn’t bad. Cheryl had me out of the office at a decent time to beat most of it.”
Alan clasped my shoulder tightly. “I’m glad that you’re here. I can’t stand these dickwads that come along with Gloria’s friends.”
I grinned at that. “Hence, why you were in the house when I rolled up?”
“Exactly.” He returned the grin. “There’s a bottle of whiskey with your name on it too, in my study.”
The foyer was polished and clean when I followed Alan inside. The smell of barbecued chicken floated through the air as I trailed Alan up the spiraling staircase to the second floor where his office was. Years ago, Alan had sold his investment firm to another eager CEO. Now, he managed high-end clients from his home in the Hamptons. Most people would be jealous. A home in the Hamptons? Great. A stay-at-home job that pays for the home in the Hamptons? People would kill for that opportunity.
It sounded like a fucking nightmare to me, though. I liked my office in Manhattan. It was separated from my home life, even though I didn’t have much of one anymore. That was one of the main reasons why I declined Alan’s invitations throughout the year. I didn’t want to feel that fucked up sense of loneliness.
A bottle of whiskey sat on the edge of Alan’s desk. I picked it up with a grin and gladly accepted a glass when he offered one. Pouring us both a hefty amount, I clinked my glass against his with a sigh. “To my one and only good friend in the world.”
“Cheers to that,” Alan said, eyes studying me as he took a sip. “How’s business going?”
I let my eyes close in pleasure at the taste. “Fine. I have my VP in charge while I’m away in case there are any emergencies.”
“You need a break. I can see even more gray hair than the last time.” He chuckled.
“Funny,” I said. “I see gray in your hair, too, old man.”
Alan shrugged. “Let’s face it. Women don’t look at us the same way anymore. Fuck. Even Gloria played the diet card on me this morning.”
He patted the slight gut that protruded over his belt. I took another drink to mask my amusement. There was no doubt in my mind that Gloria and Alan were soulmates. They both loved each other with a passion that would make even teenagers blush. It was sickening at times. It also made it much harder for me to talk about the string of women I enjoyed every week, now that my divorce was finalized. That counted as a healthy exercise in my opinion. I needed a good balance between relaxation and work. So far, having a woman in my bed once a week helped lower my blood pressure. I could get through the week without wanting to tear one of my employee’s heads off.
“That woman loves you,” I said. “I wouldn’t worry about your gut too much.”
“I suppose that I shouldn’t,” Alan said, and the depressed tone caught my attention. He offered a small smile. “I guess I’m going through a mid-life crisis. Mansion in the Hamptons. A hot wife. A beautiful daughter who’s an adult now. A business that pays the bills…”
“And you still feel like it’s not enough,” I finished for him, nodding in understanding. “I get it. I’ve been going through it, too.”
“I just miss the way women used to look at me in passing,” he said. “Not for my paycheck.”
“You’ve got a good woman, though, that loved you well before a paycheck that paid for the house here.” I smiled bitterly. “The women that come to me only see the net worth floating over my head at this point.”
“And for other reasons, too,” Alan pointed out. “You don’t look like you’re forty-four. When is the last time you even had something to eat?”
“Two days ago,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t have my chef anymore because my work hours are too crazy.”
Alan gave me a critical look. “Don’t tell Gloria that. You know that she’ll show up to your penthouse with groceries and meals without your permission.”
“She’s welcome to come anytime,” I replied, laughing.
“It’s a good thing that I trust you. I’d have a fit if it were some other man letting her into his penthouse.”
The office door opened. Gloria entered, dressed in a trim white dress, with her blonde locks pulled back delicately from her slender face. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floors as she approached with a wide smile.
“Good to see you,” she said and wrapped me in a quick hug. “I’m glad that you could make it today.” She pulled back with a frown. “You’re thin, Cole. Have you been eating enough?”
“More than enough,” I said. “The party looks great. Thanks for the invite.”
A pleased smile spread across Gloria’s face. She was the type of woman who let strangers into her house to
show her wealth. She hosted parties all the time. Celebrities even showed up at times from what Alan told me.
“It’s a wonderful party,” she said, beaming. “You haven’t even come outside to look at the patio and garden. There’s plenty of food and drinks down there for you.”
I gestured at the whiskey on Alan’s desk. “I have good whiskey right here. Your husband knows me well.”
“I also know that the two of you are hiding,” Gloria said. “Please, sweetheart. Come down to join the rest of us.”
Alan smiled indulgently at his wife. “I will, darling. Just give us a minute to catch up in peace without eavesdroppers.”
“Fine,” she said.
“These parties mean the world to her,” Alan said once her heels retreated down the hallway. He set his glass down with a long sigh. “I better go out there. I don’t want to sleep in the guest room again. You’re the lucky one right now.”
“Not really lucky. Just divorced and bitter.”
I swallowed the last bit of whiskey in my glass. Bitter wasn’t even the right word to cover how I felt when it came to Stephanie. Hateful? That wasn’t the right word, either. All I knew was that it felt like a deep and ugly hole that I could never fill with enough alcohol and sex.
“Try not to spiral down too far,” Alan said. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll come out to the city to see you if you need me to. We’ll tell Gloria it’s poker night if she asks.”
I shook my head at him. “No, don’t. I’ll be fine. I have more than enough work and other things to keep me occupied for a while.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Positive,” I said and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go before Gloria comes up here again. I’m itching to enjoy some fresh air away from the city.”
Chatter and laughter filled the afternoon air. I followed Alan outside through open doors that allowed the sea breeze to come through. The smell of the ocean, fresh cut fields, and flowers filled the air. Everyone was gathered on the back patio, or on the slope of the green yard and garden area. Waitresses walked through the crowd with platters of food and drinks in their hands.
I didn’t bat an eyelash when Gloria immediately sidled up to Alan, looping an arm through his to lead him in the direction of another couple. Years of friendship told me never to take it personally anymore. Gloria thrived on her reputation while Alan didn’t give a shit if anyone liked him or not. He indulged his wife because he was in love with her.
I grabbed a glass of champagne from a platter that walked by. Parties were never my idea of fun. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck from the sun dipping down in the horizon, blasting the entire backside of the Summers’ mansion in late summer heat. If I had three days off with no real work to get done, then I would need something to occupy my time while I was in the Hamptons. A woman to fight off the stab of loneliness whenever I glanced in Gloria and Alan’s direction as they smiled sweetly at one another.
Sometimes, it was impossible to believe that the two of them had never once broken up or strayed apart through thirty years of knowing one another. They were inseparable. Neither one cheated. Downing the champagne, I signaled a waiter over to order a strong whiskey, since we’d left the bottle upstairs.
Stephanie had told the judge she’d been abandoned throughout the entirety of our five-year marriage. “He’d rather sit in his office,” she’d complained at the time. “We don’t even see each other.”
Not that she didn’t enjoy the endless credit limits or the various men she met while shopping in the city. I didn’t count that as very lonely, but I let those thoughts get chased away by the welcoming sight of a slender blonde woman dressed in a tight tennis skirt in front of me. Her long and tanned legs were perfectly muscled, and her dainty toes had been painted an eye-catching shade of turquoise. Waves of sun-kissed blonde hair bounced against a strong back. That ass was perky and gorgeous. Enough to grab onto and thoroughly enjoy.
My cock stiffened. That was my idea of fighting off loneliness. Much better than a whiskey at this point.
Intrigued, I made my way through the crowd to the blonde’s side and cleared my throat to pull her attention away from the couple she was talking to. She turned to face me, and a blast of ice water crashed over me when I recognized who it was.
“Mr. Crayton?” Violet Summers said, smiling up at me. “I thought that was you. I’m so glad that you could make it out.”
Fuck. I forced that wild surge of lust away. This was Violet—my best friend’s daughter. I should’ve known that she would be here at the party. She’d just turned twenty-two, and she cradled a glass of wine in one hand. She was a younger version of Gloria, from her petite and tight form to her generous bust.
I tore my gaze away from her tanned chest with an inward grimace. I’d done a lot of fucked up things in my life, but touching my best friend’s adult daughter would never be on that list. That was a surefire way of losing my last friend on the planet.
“I figured that I’d need to make it to at least one event,” I said, voice tight with tension. “I just wanted to say hello.”
Violet offered that charming smile again. What the fuck happened? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even seen Violet. It’d been several years, but she was an adult now. A full-grown and mature woman now.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here. Mom says you need a break from the city.”
I nodded stiffly. “Work never sleeps. Excuse me. I just remembered something I need to tell your father.”
Not giving her a chance to reply, I walked away from Violet, toward the side gate that led back to the front. I needed to get the fuck away. I needed to forget what had just happened.
Chapter 2
Violet
Cole Crayton finally showed up. Words couldn’t describe the rush of excitement that went through me. Not to mention the heat pulsating between my legs. The entire summer had passed without any sign of Cole at one of my mother’s parties, but now this was it. I had my opening. I had my chance.
I watched as Cole beelined it quickly through the crowd, but was stopped by my dad before he could reach the garden gate. The two of them were swept into a conversation with another one of my dad’s friends.
The tense expression on Cole’s strong and freshly shaven face didn’t help the fluttering in my stomach. I recognized that look in his cobalt blue colored eyes. It was the look of pure interest and lust. He had wanted to fuck me, but the second he recognized me, a cold wall had come down between us. I’d expected it, partly. Cole was a gentleman. He would never lay a hand on me, never look in my direction because I’m his best friend’s daughter.
And he had no idea that I wanted him. Since I was fifteen years old, I’ve wanted him. I wanted that fit and muscled body pushing up against mine. I wanted to be one of those women I’ve overheard my parents talking about with my mom. He was filling a bottomless void with alcohol and women from what I gathered since his divorce.
It made my plan that much easier.
“Excuse me,” I said to the couple whose name I couldn’t remember. They lived a few miles down the road in another mansion. Another one of my mother’s “good neighbor” friends that she secretly competed with all the time.
Making my way through the crowd of people gathered on the back patio, I sidled up close to where Cole stood to talk with my dad and a few other men. All summer I had pestered my father constantly about talking to Cole about securing an internship role at Crayton, Inc. They needed help with their expansion. I needed the experience, and it would put me in front of Cole every single day.
I bit the inside of my cheek in aggravation when I caught of Martha Myers also sidling up to Cole. Recently divorced too. Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly bad looking either, with her dark hair and well-endowed breasts. Cole’s eyes fixated on her as she swept him up into a conversation that I couldn’t hear over the chatter of other people.
Jealousy smoldered in my chest. It
took all my self-control not to claw Martha's greedy eyes out. I wanted to tell her that he had looked at me with much more interest than her. But I had too much riding on this to give into the urge.
My father turned to talk to someone else when he realized Martha’s intent. I was seething now, wishing Dad would broach the topic of my internship with Cole. When it came to his best friend, my dad never brought him up, besides a passing comment that he wouldn’t be at whatever party my mother was throwing. He visited Cole in the city too, but I doubted that he ever brought up what I’d asked him to.
“Dad,” I said, tugging on the edge of his shirt sleeve to gain his attention. “Can I talk to you?”
“What is it?”
