Dating My Friend's Daughter

by Wylder, Penny

  I’m going to be thinking about it all day, because whatever this is, I want to explore it. I want more of that fire and that power and that absolutely fucking exquisite pleasure. Today is going to give a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘hump day.’

  It’s mid-morning when Jack strolls into my office with a thin folder and tosses it on my desk. “That was delivered just a few minutes ago.”

  I raise an eyebrow, picking up the folder from where it’s fallen and opening it. Skimming the first page, I do a double take. “Jack, what the fuck is this.”

  “Jason and Rick,” he says. “You met them the other night. They called. After thinking it over, they don’t just want to invest, they want to buy the company. That’s the offer.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” I clear my throat. “What I meant is, why are you even showing this to me?”

  He gives me a look like I’m the stupidest human on earth. “Did you see the offer?”

  Glancing down at the page, I see the number, and I will admit, it is an impressive string of zeroes. “I don’t want to sell.”

  “For that amount of money we’d be stupid not to.”

  I grit my teeth. “Jack, I haven’t put eight years of my life into this company to sell it some wall-street wannabe children. How the hell did we go from you meeting with them, then agreeing to talk about it later , to having an offer on the table? Let alone an offer that you’re willing to take?”

  He scoffs. “Eight years. I put in eight years too. I know you resent me because you think I don’t work as hard as you do, but I’ve dedicated just as much, and those ‘wannabes’ have the capital and the vision to take Tailor Me and turn it into a global brand.”

  “Resent you? Jack, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t resent you. I think we’ve been having communication problems, but you’re still my closest friend. And it seems like you’ve forgotten that we’re already a global brand.”

  “Not like that.” His eyes light up with an almost manic fire. “They’re talking the Walmart of men’s clothing. The one place that everyone shops. This will be our legacy.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “Think about it, Michael. You could retire at thirty-five and live like a king for the rest of your life. This is perfect. No more worrying about the little details, no more slaving over code that has to be re-written a thousand times. We’ll still have stock options and can go live on a fucking island if we wanted to.”

  I stand, his insistence at this suddenly growing annoying. “I like my job. I like our company. If you’re no longer happy here, Jack, then that’s a different conversation. But this one is over. You can’t sell the company unless I agree and I do not. We have no reason to sell, not when we have plans of our own.” He opens his mouth to cut me off, but I keep going. “I have no problem being a truly global brand, but I want to do it our way. I want to do it slowly and carefully, with the kind of quality that has given us our reputation and our business in the first place. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Jack leans forward, placing both hands on my desk. He looks like he’s getting ready to charge me, like he’s going to scream. He’s breathing deep through his nose, and I’m expecting the worst. But he suddenly stands up and storms out of the room, leaving nothing but silence behind him.

  I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster with Jack these days. I keep saying that we’re close, but the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s been a long time since we talked about anything other than work. He said when he introduced Cora that she had reached out to him a couple of years ago, but I never knew. We grew apart while I wasn’t looking, our proximity in the office fooling me into thinking that we were still the same people we were five years ago, but we’re not. And I’m not sure that I entirely like the person that Jack is turning out to be now.

  I can’t figure out his motive for even wanting to take this deal. Sure, it’s a lot of money, but we have a lot of money. Both of us make those silly yearly lists of the richest people in Houston. So why this? Why now? There’s a piece missing and I have no idea what it is or how to find it.

  My phone chimes with a text.

  W ould you like to go for a swim this afternoon, Mr. Foster?

  N othing to chase away uncomfortable business thoughts like an invitation like that. Swimming means the pool which means seeing Cora in that ridiculously hot red bikini again.

  D o you like torturing me ? I’m going to have a hard-on all day now.

  I can almost hear her laughing in the reply.

  O h , poor you. I guess you’ll just have to punish me for that later. I’m looking forward to it.

  G reat . Now my dick feels like a fucking rock. Not only am I thinking about punishing her and exploring this strange new dynamic that we’ve developed, but I’m thinking about sinking my cock into that sweet pussy of hers again. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt anything that was close to that kind of pleasure.

  When five o’clock rolls around, I manage to make myself walk out the door of the office even though I still have more work that I could do. Or rather, the thought of Cora in that bikini has me walking out the door of the office. I don’t sprint to my apartment to change and find my long lost swim trunks, but I do draw a few curious looks with my determined pace. I definitely feel like a teenager again.

  I don’t see Cora from my balcony, but when I walk out onto the roof’s deck, she’s there, laid out on a chaise just like that first day. Under my breath I’m curing the fact that there are so many people here enjoying the sunshine and that I can’t act out my very vivid fantasy right here and right now. Who knows? Maybe I’ll talk to the building’s super about closing off the pool for a few hours. That could be fun.

  My shadow falls across Cora as I approach, and she opens her eyes and smiles at me. I’ll never doubt again why Helen of Troy could launch a thousand ships. Right at this moment, I think I would try to conquer the world so Cora would smile at me like that again. It erases everything I’m worrying about and makes it seem like life is perfect.

  She leans up on her elbows, peering at me from over her sunglasses. “Hello, Mr. Foster.”

  Just like I hoped, she’s wearing that little red bikini. I let my gaze draw down her body, lingering, saving this memory for later. “Hello.”

  Turning over, she stretches out on her stomach and points to a bottle of sun tan lotion sitting next to the chair. “Will you help me? I’ve been waiting for you to get here so I could tan my back just a bit.”

  I can’t move. I’m frozen by the sight of her ass, which has a very distinct handprint on it. The growing hard-on in my trunks makes me sit down because there’s nowhere to hide here. Everyone will see. And suddenly I’m conscious of more than that. The age difference between us has never been clearer. What will the people here think if they see us together? Will they care that an older man is a with a younger woman? My thoughts start to race as I pick up the bottle of lotion. I can see the way the papers will spin it: billionaire preys on girl half his age. Even though it’s not true, it won’t matter. No one wants to buy from a company or advertise with a company associated with that.

  But, as I smooth oil across Cora’s back, I know that I’m not going to stop. Maybe it’s only because it’s new, but I can’t remember being this happy in a long time, and I’m not going to give that up. We just have to be careful. I must have said that last part out loud, because Cora turns her head. “What?”

  I clear my throat. “I said we have to be careful.”

  “Careful is overrated,” she says, smirking.

  “You know what could happen. This could ruin the company if everyone found out. The media would have a field day, and Jack would never speak to me again. It would be one thing if you were my age, but you’re not.”

  “Thank God,” she says, arching her back at just the right moment so her ass bumps up into my hand and lines up with the marks that I put there last night. God, why is this so hot?

  “Michael,” sh
e says, turning back over and leaving my hand in a place dangerously close to her pussy, “I don’t mind being your little dirty secret. For now. But not forever. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “I know, but it could look that way.”

  “People can look all they want,” she says, raising an eyebrow so that I know she’s talking about two things at once. “I don’t care about them. All I want is for you and me to keep going. Again, and again, and again.”

  “You’re trying to torture me again,” I say.

  Cora sits up, leaning close to my face so that she can whisper, “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing while we’re here. But later…”

  Grabbing my hand, Cora guides it between her legs. I can feel her heat, and the fact that she’s practically dripping onto the chaise. “I don’t feel like swimming anymore.”

  “I never felt like swimming. I just wanted to see you in that,” I nod to the bikini. “Again.”

  “Again?”

  I laugh softly, “I saw you out here the day you arrived. I imagined all the things I would do to you right here on that chaise.” I look around at all the people at the pool. “It’s really too bad that we have to be careful.”

  Cora stands, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her, leading me across the roof.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Being careful,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  She leads me to a screen used for changing. There are several of them lined up against the wall of the building, and it looks like she chooses one at random. She pulls it closed behind us—mostly.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Fucking you here wouldn’t exactly be careful. I know how loud you can get now.”

  “I think this will depend more on how loud you can get,” she says with a grin. And then Cora sinks to her knees in front of me, and I think I’m going to pass out because there’s no blood left in my body or my brain, it’s all gone straight to my cock and my balls, and that’s completely obvious from the way my trunks are stretching forward. They’re not exactly built for discretion.

  Her fingers creep into my waistband. “Tell me. Have you imagined me like this? On my knees for you?”

  “Yes.” God knows I have. I’ve imagined ordering her that way, and watching her comply, no matter who was around.

  “Have you imagined my mouth?”

  I weave my fingers into her hair. “I have. I’ve jerked off thinking about my cock stretching that pretty mouth, and about what my cum would look like on your lips.”

  She has my bathing suit around my ankles, fingers gripping the base of my cock, stroking up and down. “Well, Mr. Foster, what do you want me to do?”

  She’s daring me, knowing that there are people right on the other side of that screen. That I can choose to take this elsewhere or do nothing. But she knows what we both want, and she’s telling me to make a choice. She’s offering it to me instead of taking it. That surge of primal power flows through me again, and I let it all go, the worry and the fear of potential shame or discovery. This isn’t about that, this is about us.

  “Suck it.”

  Cora grins. “One thing you should know, is that bad girls are very good at this.”

  She takes me into her mouth in one smooth stroke and I stifle a groan. I’m not small by any means, and she swallows my cock with an ease I’ve never seen, sinking down almost to the hilt like she was made for it. “Christ,” I mutter under my breath. The vibrations from her laughter steal whatever breath I have left, and I have to close my eyes.

  I watch Cora’s lips suck against my skin, stretched around my shaft just like I pictured it, and I think it might the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Her tongue circles me, stroking the tip and down all the way to the base and back. My fingers are still in her hair and I find myself holding on, gripping her tighter, pulling her closer as she takes me in.

  The rhythm she sets is brutal, and I know that this can’t last long. I’ve been thinking of her all day, waiting for this moment to be with her, and I’m so close. Fuck. Cora releases me from her mouth, instead using that talented tongue on my balls. I can’t move, can’t breathe, because it feels so fucking amazing and I can’t hold back the moan that comes from my throat.

  Using that hand I pull her mouth back to my shaft, guiding her down. I weave my other hand into her hair and suddenly she’s the one who’s still and I’m the one moving. I’m pushing deeper into her throat, and every time she swallows it feels like a goddamn miracle. Her eyes are looking into mine, and they’re bright with excitement. She loves this, loves being on her knees for me while I fuck her mouth, her throat.

  God, I’m so close I can barely control myself. Cora takes one final breath and dives back onto my cock, taking me all the way. Her throat spasms around me and I’m a done. Pleasure explodes from the base of my spine, and my cock jerks inside her as I come. But she doesn’t stop, and another wave of pleasure rocks through me as I feel my balls touch her chin and that delicate tongue licking my skin. Fucking hell, I don’t think I’ve ever come this hard in my life. It feels like forever until I’m spent inside her and she leans back, releasing my cock with a wet sound that is pure, raw sex.

  I stare at her, and she grins. Never before has a woman leveled me like this. My whole body is numb in the aftermath of that orgasm. If it weren’t for the wall behind my back, I’m sure that I would not be standing. Cora licks her lips, and it’s enough to make my cock stiffen again. She laughs. “Ready for more?”

  “Yes.” My voice is so hoarse it sounds like I haven’t spoken in a week.

  There’s a soft scrape on pavement and I look up and lock eyes with a man standing at the edge of the screen. I have no idea how long he’s been standing there, but since Cora is still on her knees and my trunks are still around my ankles, he’s seen enough. “Sorry,” he mutters, and walks away quickly. I think I’ve seen him around the building—maybe at the gym—and I’m concerned he might know who I am. I’m sure that at least some of the population of this apartment building have been asked by journalists for information about me. That’s what happens when you’re as rich as I am.

  “Well,” Cora says, “I didn’t know we had an audience. If I’d known I would have put on more of a performance.”

  “I’d say the performance was pretty damn good.”

  Her cheeks turn a shade of pink that I recognize from when I was spanking her. “Thank you. If we go back to your apartment, there might be an encore that’s better than the matinee.”

  “That can be arranged,” I say, pulling up my trunks. “Let’s get out of here.”

  6

  W e retrieve our towels from the chaise lounge and she follows me back to my place. I push open the door for her and get a blast of the air conditioning. “I think that’s the best trip to the pool that I’ve had in years. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Just water for now,” she says, leaning against the bar in my kitchen.

  I pour her a glass and think. Words have been forming in my head, and I’m not sure they’re the right ones, but I’ve got to try. “Before we go any further, and I can’t think because I’m overwhelmed by the sex, I think we should talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About this,” I say, gesturing between us. “This dynamic that we have.”

  She raises an eyebrow and flips her hair over her shoulder, making sure my eyes follow the movement. “Don’t you like it?”

  “I do. But I’ve never done anything like this, and I think we should each get the chance to say exactly what we want. Then maybe we can decide if we need to set some rules.”

  “Ever the businessman.”

  I chuckle. “I like knowing the rules. I like knowing where the line is so I can judge when and where crossing it is okay.”

  I come around the bar to stand next to her, and she pouts. “I thought we came up here to have sex.”

  “We’ll get to that,” I say softly, placing my hand behind her neck and ti
lting her face upward so she’s looking me in the eye. “But first I’m going to tell you what I want, and you’re going to tell me.”

  “Okay.” Her pulse speeds up under my thumb, and I get a deep satisfaction from knowing that she gets aroused just by being near me.

  I wait for a moment, holding her gaze so that I know she’s really listening before I start to speak. “I want you to do what I say, without question. If I tell you I want you to bend over and spread your legs, you don’t ask why, you just do it. I want you to trust that when I ask you to do something, I’m not trying to hurt you or humiliate you. When we’re having sex, or you think I might be commanding you, I want you to call me Mr. Foster or Sir.” I watch her pupils dilate as I speak, taking in my expectations for her. “Now tell me,” I say. “What do you want?”

  “That,” she says breathlessly, and I feel her swallow, “I want that. And I want you to punish me. Every day, whenever you feel like it, punish me.”

  “I’ll punish you if you’re a bad girl,” I say, smiling.

  “I told you already, I’m always a bad girl.”

  There’s that challenge again. I can see it in her eyes, the desire to play with me. And now that we’ve defined this, I know exactly what she wants and what she’ll let me do. It’s a heady feeling, this control. It’s not unlike when I make a risky business decision that ends up working out—it’s the same kind of high.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” I stare at her until she drops her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

  I release my hold on her and step away. “My bedroom is back there. Take that off and get on the bed. On your hands and knees.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, and I turn to watch her hips swing as she leaves. “Cora. If you need me to stop, or something makes you uncomfortable, call me by my first name.”