My Best Friend’s Dad
~A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance~
~The Forbidden Fun Series~
© 2018
By Cassandra Dee
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DEDICATION
To all the girls who’ve fallen in love with that inappropriate someone.
This one’s for you!
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Hi! Thanks so much for reading My Best Friend’s Dad. This is the latest book in my Forbidden Fun series. So many folks kept asking me for taboo relationships that I had to write more naughty tales.
I hope you enjoy Marie’s tale of finding love in unexpected places!
Happy reading,
Love,
Cassie
ABOUT THIS BOOK
My Best Friend’s Dad: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
Marie is an exchange student living in my house. Tempting. Curvy. And utterly irresistible.
Marie came from France as an exchange student.
I was a “host parent,” I guess is what you call it.
Except there was no one less qualified to be a host than me.
Because the moment I saw her, my world flipped upside down.
Marie was beautiful.
Sassy.
And those gorgeous curves drove me nuts.
But this can’t happen because Marie’s my daughter’s best friend at school and what we’re doing is utterly taboo.
Hey Readers – Pop open the bubbly and get ready for some fun because this book is going to leave you gasping for more (in a good way) :) As always, our feisty heroine gets her HEA, with a pregnancy and a secret baby too. You’ll love it, I promise. Xoxo, Cassie
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
A Sneak Peek: Their Secret
A Sneak Peek: Pregnant By My Boss
A Sneak Peek: Client Number 6
MORE BY CASSANDRA DEE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
Chris
The doorman smiles widely as he greets me at the door. “Good evening, Mr. Jones. How was your day?” he asks while swinging the glass entrance open.
“It was okay,” I say with a tight smile. The truth was my day was long and exhausting. It was filled with endless meetings with potential clients, all of them seeking an investment from my hedge fund. It’s risky to be in this line of business. Any move could potentially result in a major financial loss, but so far, I’ve made some very lucrative bets that have turned me into a very wealthy man.
Still, the long hours spent in my office using aggressive tactics to accumulate billions of dollars are stressful, and after spending twelve hours sitting in my office chair, a strong shot of whisky is all I can think about.
Quietly, I unlock the door of my penthouse, trying not to disturb my daughter Jenny. Even though she’s eighteen, Jenny has a tendency to turn in early. She’s not the most outgoing of teen girls, and sometimes I wonder if it’s partially my fault. After all, her mother and I divorced ten years ago. It crushed my daughter, but what could I do? My ex checked out of the marriage long before we signed the divorce papers, and I couldn’t see myself staying married to a woman simply didn’t care anymore – about me, or about our daughter. She was only a mother in the sense that she physically gave birth to Jenny. Other than that, the woman was nothing more than a ghost locked in her suite all day.
As a result, Jenny isn’t the most outgoing person. In fact, I’d say my daughter is shy and insecure, but I’m not sure what to do about it. Maybe it’s normal to be like this? Hell, I know nothing about teen girls. Should I ask her to see a therapist?
With a gentle push, I manage to open the door without making a sound. But to my surprise, the lights are still on, and there’s muted chatter coming from the living room. Jenny must still be awake. Even more odd, there are suitcases by the door. Is someone here with my daughter?
As I approach the living room, an unfamiliar voice floats towards me, lilting and soft. Curious, I step into the living room.
“Hi, Dad!” Jenny chirps as her eyes light up. My daughter’s cute, but my eyes are immediately drawn to the beautiful, curvaceous girl sitting on the couch next to her.
“Hey hon. I thought you would be getting ready for bed by now,” I say as I try not to stare too hard at our visitor’s creamy skin and flowing hair. Her long, curly tresses drop to the middle of her back, giving her a Venus de Milo look. “Who’s your friend?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even as my heart pumps furiously in my chest.
“Dad, this is Marie LeTour. Remember? The foreign exchange student from France who’s going to be living with us for the next six months. She’s going to Bradford Prep with me.”
Shit! I completely forgot we were doing this, probably because I didn’t really want to do it. But Jenny begged me non-stop for six months, and I caved. Goddamit. My daughter has me wrapped around her finger, and she knows it. I really have to put a stop to her wheedling because I always end up giving in.
Our visitor shoots me a smile. “Bonjour, Monsieur Jones. I’m Marie,” the woman says. As she walks towards me to shake my hand, her large breasts bounce up and down. Oh shit. I had no idea that teen girls could have breasts this big, and I try not to stare.
“Hi, Marie. Please, call me Chris. No Monsieur Jones or Mr. Jones necessary.” I shake her hand. Her palm is soft, and those big brown eyes are inquisitive. A smile peeks shyly from those rosy lips.
“It’s nice to meet you, Chris. Thank you for allowing me to stay in your beautiful penthouse. It’s always been a dream of mine to live in New York City.” She speaks English fluently with a sexy French accent.
“You’re welcome. I’m sure Jenny will show you all around the city,” I say as I stare at her juicy lips. Oh fuck, what the hell am I doing? My eyes snap away, and I stare at the curtains like a fool.
Jenny pipes up then. “I’ll show you all of the boutiques with high fashion couture, and I’ll take you to the best restaurants. I know a few Parisian spots, but I’m sure it’s nothing like what you’re used to having back home,” my daughter rambles excitedly.
“I can’t wait!” Marie says softly, her eyes sparkling with humor. My heart thumps a couple times in my chest, and it’s difficult to breathe. Did someone turn off the A/C? But my daughter seems to have no trouble finding oxygen. With a smile, she waves at me.
“Dad, Marie’s suitcases are by the door. Can you bring them in for her, please?” Jenny asks. “I’m going to show her the bedrooms and let her pick one, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” I manage. We’ve got a huge penthouse apartment, so space isn’t an issue. Plus, I’m sure Marie will pick a room near Jenny at the end of the hall, leaving me in peace.
As the two girls disappear into the darkened corridor, I grab the two suitcases in the foyer.
“You’re going to love Bradford,” my daughter babbles. “We have the best teachers. They’re really cool and make every lesson really engaging. And there are a lot of really
hot boys who go to Bradford too.” I can’t help but pause for a moment as I drag Marie’s suitcases along the parquet tiles. With a body like that, she doesn’t need a boy. She needs a man.
“I just hope I don’t get too homesick,” our exchange student says softly.
“I hope you don’t either. But I promise my dad and I will make you feel right at home. Right, Dad?”
Quickly, Marie turns to look at me over her shoulder, and I stare into those hypnotic caramel eyes. “Right,” I mumble. Her gaze is tantalizing and mature. “Make yourself comfortable. This is your home now, Marie.”
Holy cow. What do I do? A sexy foreign exchange student my daughter’s age is going to be living with me for the next six months. She’s young, but her body is fully grown. Her wide hips sway as she walks down the hallway, and I can’t stop staring as I follow behind with the luggage.
“You can choose any room you want,” I mumble to myself as the girls laugh and chat up ahead. I stare at that firm ass, and imagine bending her over and sliding my cock deep inside that wet warmth. Fuck. This is no good. I need to think of something else. Anything else. The desert. How my car needs a tune-up. Jenny’s tuition bill next month. But none of it works.
“Hmm,” Marie says thoughtfully, peering into the different bedrooms as we wander down the hall. “I choose this one.” She peeks her head into the bedroom next to mine.
“Um, maybe not that one,” I say quickly. “Any of the other ones, but not this one.” Damn, we have six bedrooms in this apartment. Why’d she pick the one next to me? She must know it’s right next to the master suite where I sleep, with the sweeping double doors and arched entrance.
But Jenny interrupts. “Why not, Daddy? That’s the one that I like the most, after my own bedroom, of course. Plus, it has an en suite, which is always useful,” she giggles. “I love taking bubble baths, don’t you?”
Marie’s eyes widen. “Bubble baths? Amazing! Incroyable! We don’t have a tub at home, just a shower,” she says regretfully.
“That does it then,” Jenny decides. “You definitely have to move into this room so that you can experience a bubble bath. It’s sooo nice.” She giggles again. And with that, the two girls disappear into the room, leaving me standing in the hallway, completely flummoxed. What in the world just happened? Was I just railroaded by two teenage girls?
But then my daughter reappears in the hallway, leaving Marie to unpack.
“Dad, you do like her, don’t you?” Jenny asks worriedly, startling me while quietly shutting the door behind her.
“What?” Is it obvious that I’m attracted to our new exchange student? But Jenny blazes on ahead.
“Marie’s nice, right? And she’s really funny, too. I think we’re going to be really great friends,” my daughter rambles again with excitement in her eyes. She hugs me tightly. “Thank you, Daddy, for letting her stay. This means so much to me.”
I can see why my daughter’s excited. Jenny isn’t the most popular girl in school. She’s always struggled to make friends, and she’s spent many lunchtimes alone in the library. High school hasn’t been easy for her on the social front, and again, I think it has to do with my nasty divorce. So I’m willing to do anything for my daughter. I sling an arm around her shoulders protectively. “You’re welcome, honey. Of course it’s no problem. We have plenty of space. You’ll have a great time together.”
But shit, this complicates things. Because how am I supposed to resist Marie? She’s sexy and youthful, yet there’s something knowing in that gaze. Why couldn’t they send a girl with a mustache and no boobs? Someone I’d have no trouble ignoring?
But my daughter continues to babble, totally unaware of my thoughts. “This is going to be the best six months ever! I’ve been working on my French so that I’ll be able to communicate with Marie, but it turns out she speaks fluent English! Who knew? I can’t wait to hear stories about what it’s like to live in France, the most romantic country in the world,” my daughter swoons. “I’ve heard they have the best macarons.”
I nod with a vague smile. Jenny has been obsessed with France ever since I took her on a European vacation one summer. So when the opportunity came to host a French foreign exchange student, Jenny was the first in her class to sign up. But I had no idea I would end up hosting a curvy female like this. Well, I did, but only in theory. In practice, it looks like things are going to be really difficult with a tempting foreign exchange student sleeping under my roof.
My daughter interrupts my thoughts. “I’m going to bed, Dad. Goodnight!” Jenny trills as she walks down to her end of the hallway.
“Goodnight, hon.” I wait until she closes her door behind her before swinging around to stare at Marie’s door. I can hear singing coming through the wooden slab, and her soft, angelic voice captivates me. Everything about her is beautiful and enticing. I place my hand on her doorknob. I want desperately to go inside the bedroom, but it’s wrong. This is a woman who’ll be living under my roof for the next six months. I’m her legal guardian. Practically a father figure, for crying out loud.
Heaving a sigh, I back away from the door. What am I doing? I can’t be obsessing about one of my daughter’s only friends, not to mention someone who’s in a foreign country alone. The school and her parents are trusting me to be an exemplary host. Plus, she’s a senior at Bradford Prep. If I lay a finger on her, both Bradford and the Board of Education will have my ass in a second.
So I can’t touch Marie. Absolutely not. She’s one hundred percent off limits. Yet I’ve never met anyone as delicious before. Her body is perfect, with curves in all the right places. Her pussy is probably tight and gets wet easily, just waiting to be stretched.
But what the hell? I can’t be thinking these thoughts. Expression grim, I stride into my room. This is an impossible situation because everything about Marie is gorgeous, and it’s going to be torture seeing her every day. The new foreign exchange student is absolutely irresistible … but I have to resist.
Chapter Two
Chris
Bzzt! Bzzt!
The letters of my alarm flash an angry red as I blink blearily at the clock. Six a.m. Shit. I roll over and turn it off, then lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling. For a second, I think the sexy, French, foreign exchange student living in my penthouse was part of a wet dream. Then I quickly remember that Marie wasn’t a dream at all. She’s real, and she’s going to be tormenting me with her shapely form for the next six months.
Damn, these next few months are going to be hard. I fell asleep thinking about her and woke up thinking about her. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, but I already can’t take this anymore. I almost wish I could get a glimpse of Marie before rushing off for the day because a glimpse of that beautiful face would be enough to get me through the tedium. Imagine it. A boring meeting would be so improved if I could see her curves in my mind’s eye.
But goddamit. I told myself I wouldn’t think about her this way, yet here I am – still laying in bed and fantasizing like a madman.
I grasp my head in the palms of my hands, almost as if I’m trying to keep myself from losing it. She does that to me. She unintentionally makes me feel like I need her, like a touch from her would be a cure from this ailment I’m feeling. How am I supposed to get through the day like this? I’m totally screwed.
Forcing myself to roll out of bed, I get to my feet. Somehow, I have to find a way to carry on through this torture. Maybe a cup of scalding coffee will do the trick. Steaming joe has a way of fixing almost anything, and the shot of caffeine should shock me to my senses.
Quickly, I throw on some boxers and leave the room. But as my bedroom door closes, I glance involuntarily at Marie’s room. Her door is slightly ajar, and a waft of sweet vanilla tickles my senses. Walking softly, I peer through the crack like some dirty stalker but immediately draw back before seeing anything. That was wrong. Damnit, I’m already beginning to cross boundaries.
Angry with myself, I storm down the stairs. Sh
it, I’m every parent’s worst nightmare – the older guy who’s trying to get a look at a delicious teenage girl. Hell, if someone tried to do that to my daughter, I’d beat the shit out of him. A grunt of self-disgust escapes my lips. Man, I deserve whatever comes my way.
Finally, I get to the kitchen landing, but surprisingly, the light’s already on. I walk into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, assuming I’ll be alone, but lo and behold, there’s Marie sitting on one of the stools along the kitchen island. I startle her, causing her to drop her knife with a clatter to the ground.
“Pardon, I thought you and Jenny were still asleep,” she says nervously, bending over to pick it up from the floor. I must say, I’m rather happy about this surprise. Seeing Marie has already made my day better.
“It’s fine,” I reply. “School doesn’t start until 8:30. What are you doing up so early?”
She smiles, pushing curly brown hair behind one ear. My heart races a little as I stare at her delicate features. Oh no. I can’t have these feelings. I want to look away, but it would be a shame to not admire her beauty for a tad bit longer.
“I couldn’t sleep. I think I have jet lag,” she says as her nipples poke out from under the large Snoopy T-shirt draped on her body. Oh God. Marie’s innocent and childlike. She’s wearing cartoon pajamas, for crying out loud! The brunette has no idea how she appears, like a siren beckoning to a drunken sailor. I try not to look down, instead keeping my eyes fixed on her face.
“Toast?” the girl asks innocently as she motions toward a piece of bread on her plate.
“No, thanks,” I growl, hoping my voice doesn’t sound too hoarse. “I usually just have a cup of coffee in the morning.” Grabbing a white coffee mug with big blue letters that say “Number One Dad,” I pour myself a cup of steaming joe. Jenny bought the mug for me last year for Father’s Day, and I treasure it. Plus, I have to get these thoughts of Marie out of my mind. I’m a father for crying out loud, with a daughter the same age as her. No one’s daughter deserves the kind of thoughts I’m thinking right now.
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