"Have you traveled much?"
"Not as much as I would have liked," he said. "I mean I've been to all the cool spots. The Bahamas, Ibiza, Thailand."
"Aw, so you've been nowhere then," I joked.
"I mean, I've never been anywhere off the tourist trail. I always thought it would be so cool to just take off with nothing except a heartbeat and two feet. You know, just backpack around the world meeting people and living life."
"Sounds wonderful," I mused, and I really meant it. "I mean, apart from the living out a backpack thing. A shower would be cool now and again."
I looked down at the menu and read the Italian words as my stomach growled with hunger. When the waiter returned for our order, I picked the most carbtastic thing I could find.
“It's cheat night,” I said as I stabbed into my lasagna joyously sometime later.
Dinner passed quickly in a haze of wine and chit chat. The food was good and the company even better, and soon giant plates of pasta were polished off, desserts came out, and the bottle of wine was drained.
“I feel so naughty eating this,” I said, licking the coffee flavored cream off my spoon.
“You've done a lot naughtier things than eat that,” he winked and my stomach flipped.
I watched him lick a blob of ice cream off his spoon, a small smattering of vanilla landing on his top lip. Leaning over, I pressed my finger to his lip before resting it against my tongue to taste it. He laughed and playfully poked his spoon at me, leaving a glob of ice cream on the end of my nose.
“Hey!”
He laughed harder when he saw how annoyed I was, and he dived closer to quickly kiss it off. I was laughing now too as I wiped away the wetness on my nose.
“You're a devil,” I chuckled.
Below the table, his hand was making its way up my thigh, slowly, squeeze by squeeze, until I could feel his fingers teasing the hem of my dress.
“I wish we didn't have to hide away like this,” he said, looking into his empty wine glass.
“Me either.” Looking around the room, I noticed most of the diners had departed. “I didn't realize how late it was,” I said, noticing it was almost midnight. “We've been talking for hours.”
His hand on my leg told me he wanted me to stay with him for many more, but the look in his eyes was hesitant.
“Come on,” he said. “I'll drive you home. Remember, we have a meeting early tomorrow.”
Bringing the conversation back to work left me feeling flat and hollow. I'd had such a good night seeing him as not my boss or my dad's best friend, but as a date. After paying the bill and generously tipping the waiter, he helped me into my coat. Slipping his arm around my waist, he guided me outside into the darkness of the empty sidewalk.
For a fleeting second, as we walked to the car, I felt as though we were just a normal couple out for a night on the town. But I knew the feeling would soon come to an end. We could never be a normal couple.
And were we even really a couple at all? Could this go anywhere?
“Thank you,” I said as we drove toward my neighborhood. “I had a great night.”
“Me too.”
He drove slowly, and I hoped it was because he didn't want the evening to come to an end. But eventually, we arrived at my building and he pulled up outside the main entrance. I climbed out of his car and paused for a second with my hand on the door, not sure what to say. All I knew was that the last word I wanted to utter was goodbye.
“Would you like to come upstairs for a drink?” I asked.
He pondered the question for a second and looked up toward my window as though he was imagining us up there. He knew what I wanted, and from the lust in his eyes, I could see he wanted it too. So why was he stalling?
“I'd love to, but...”
He moved around to my side of the car. There was an intensity in his eyes I didn't quite understand, like he was about to say something he knew he'd regret.
“Becca...” he began.
Oh, here we go. It's the we can't see each other thing all over again.
He shifted nervously, taking my hands in his and squeezing them.
“I want to see you again,” he said. “But can we take things slow?”
My insides were burning. I wanted him so much, but at the same time, taking things slow meant he didn't want this to burn out fast. It meant he wanted to stick around.
“We can take things slow,” I agreed, resting my hand on his jaw before sliding it down to his chest.
Reaching up, I kissed him gently for a second before brushing my tongue against his. As I pressed myself against his body, I could feel his hardness. Between my thighs, I began to throb with a liquid hunger.
Pulling away, I stroked his cheek. “So I suppose a drink's out of the question?”
He nodded regretfully. “Not tonight.”
“I understand,” I said, slipping out of his grasp. “Good night.”
His eyes lingered on my body for a second, taking in what he was saying goodbye to.
“Good night,” he replied. “See you tomorrow.”
Matthew
I woke up with a raging erection, but I'd gone to bed with one too. I thought I was doing the gentlemanly thing by going home alone last night, but I'd never wanted someone so badly.
The way that red dress clung to her body brought me close to tears. And the way she kissed me as she said goodbye, her breath tasting like red wine and chocolate… I lowered my hand to my groin and sank into a delicious white heat.
“Becca, what are you doing to me?”
I was torn. On one hand I wanted to fuck her freely and often, but on the other, I knew I couldn't, shouldn't be anywhere near her. But it was impossible to stay away.
What the fuck do I do? This is driving me crazy.
If Bob found out about us, he'd kick my ass. But if I couldn't get my hands on her, I'd lose my fucking mind. So what was I supposed to do, lay there and jerk myself off into oblivion?
Throwing back the bed covers, I let the sunshine warm my naked body. Stroking myself, I focused on the head of my cock and instantly felt myself reach the heights of pleasure.
I remembered her kiss, remembered the way her body pressed against mine as her tongue entered my mouth. With my heart beating wildly and my eyes clenched tight, I came hard, ejaculating over my stomach.
When I opened my eyes, the sun was almost blinding, and there were spots of white in my vision. It took a long while for my heart to slow down, and when it did, my conscience dropped along with it.
You're an asshole, I told myself. You know who she is, your best friend's fucking daughter. You'll go to hell for this.
Climbing out of bed, I walked into the bathroom and set the shower to ice cold. Then I stepped inside and tried to shock my frustration out of my body.
When I came out shivering, I looked at the clock. In half an hour's time, I'd be back in the office. And back with Becca.
* * *
As I drove into the city toward my office, I thought of her. Not just all the things I found attractive about her, but what I had to do to keep a level head in her company.
I was grateful I'd told her to cool off last night, and I was glad she was a mature woman. She took the news well and seemed to agree that taking things slow was a good idea.
Still, as my mind zoned in and out as I drove, I couldn't stop thinking about where this was going. It felt wrong but it felt right. I knew it was forbidden, but at the same time I hadn’t felt this alive in years.
Arriving at the office a little earlier than expected, I said hello to Sandra and looked down the hall to Becca's office. Her door was closed, so I slipped into my own office. With a few minutes to spare before our first meeting, I took the time to check my emails. I leaned back with a yawn and scanned my eyes over the page.
Junk mail. More junk mail. A tacky chain joke email from Jake. Who the hell even still sends those? Something that looked like an invoice and some more designs from Coby. But in among the
usual names and subject headings, something caught my eye.
"What's this?"
I leaned close as though if I got closer to the screen, I could work it out faster. The email address was just a jumble of letters and numbers at a Hotmail account, but that wasn't was stood out the most. What grabbed my attention were the four words typed threateningly in all caps along the subject bar.
SHE'S HALF YOUR AGE
"What the fuck?"
At first, I assumed it had to be a virus, but it couldn't be. With bated breath, I opened the email, not knowing what I'd find. What I definitely hadn't anticipated was a series of pictures attached to the blank email.
I opened the first one, confused as hell.
Holy fuck. The picture was almost too dark and blurry to make out, but there was no mistaking the two figures in the center of the image. It looked as though it had been taken from the inside of a car staring out toward Becca's apartment. Through the blackness, her red dress burned brightly as I held her.
Who the fuck took this?
I clicked on the next image, then the next and the next. All of them showed the two of us outside her apartment in each other's arms. In one, her hand lay on my cheek lovingly as she looked into my face. In another, I was running my hands down her arms.
Okay, relax. This doesn't really show anything. If anybody sees these, I can just say I drove her home after work. It's not as if we're really doing anything but hugging?
But then I clicked on the last image and my stomach almost bottomed out. Clearer than all the others, this image sharply showed a closeup of our faces, our lips pressed together.
"Shit!"
There was no denying it. Someone knew about us.
Who could have known we were together last night and why did they care?
"Fuck!"
I slid backward away from my desk as though just being near my computer was enough to infect me with the scandalous photos. Then I stood up and walked over to the window.
What bastard did this?
I didn't know what feeling overwhelmed me the most. Anger that someone dared to follow me and anonymously threaten me with these photos. Or shame that I had been photographed kissing a girl young enough to be my daughter.
I had known guys my age who had deliberately sought out young girls for their youth and looks and lavished them with cash and gifts. They had loved the image of being a sugar daddy and having some hot young thing on their arm. But their behavior always disgusted me. I wasn't like them. Or so I thought...
But if anybody saw the photos, they'd no doubt think I was some creep. Just another rich guy on a power trip preying on a girl far too young for him. I felt ashamed of myself. Not just because I looked like an asshole, but because Bob might see the photos, and when he did, I knew our friendship would be over.
I'm such a selfish dick, I thought to myself as I looked out the window across the city. I can't keep doing this. This needs to end right now.
No matter how much I liked spending time with her, and how much I was attracted to her, for now she would have to be nothing but a fantasy. As soon as our meeting ended, I would tell it to her straight. Whatever we had, no matter how fun it was, had to end today.
You gotta do it, I told myself. Do it for Bob. Do it because it's the right thing. I gave myself an affirmative nod as I reached the decision.
As I turned around to gather my things for the meeting, a knock sounded and Sandra entered the room with a large coffee.
"I took the liberty of putting in two extra shots of espresso," she said as she handed it to me. "You look a little stressed this morning. Thought you could do with the boost."
"You've no idea how much I need it," I said, taking it from her. "Is everything set up for the meeting?"
"Yep! Becca's good to go."
Becca
What does that look in his eye mean? I wondered as he brought the meeting to a close.
For the last hour he had listened to my suggestions and questions coolly, answering them furtively. But there was no hint of the spark between us that was alive before.
As everybody began filtering out the room, I wasn't sure if I should hang back or not. Deciding I didn't want to look as though I was desperate for his attention, I joined everybody else and walked toward the door. But before I could reach it, I heard his voice from the back of the room.
"Becca? Can I have a word with you in your office?"
I looked back as he packed his notepad and laptop. There was an expectant, though hesitant look on his face.
"Sure," I said, waiting for him.
He said nothing as we left the room, only opening his mouth as soon as we were in the privacy of my office with the door closed.
"Becca..." he began. His face was tense with stress and a line was forming across his forehead.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, worried.
"Someone knows about us."
The words hung in the air for a moment as I processed them. My brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"
"I don’t know," he replied. "But someone followed us."
"Followed us? When?"
"Last night." He pulled out his phone and opened an email before flashing a series of images in my face.
"Oh, my God. Who took those?"
"I'm going to find out," he said.
"What did they want?"
"Nothing yet," he said. "All I know is that they followed us and took these photos."
"Are they trying to blackmail you?"
"Most likely, yes."
I sunk into my seat and looked up at him. The look on his face was making me nervous. He wasn't the type of guy to get stressed out by anything, but this really seemed to have rattled him.
Pulling up a second chair, he took a seat beside me and leaned forward. I reached my hands out toward him, but he wouldn't take them, preferring to keep his distance from me.
"Listen, this is all wrong," he said.
"I know. It's fucked up. Who would follow us? "
"It's not just the photos, Becca."
That strained look returned to his face. Once again, I reached for his hand, but he slid away from me.
"It's us too," he continued. “We’re wrong. I should’ve listened to my gut from the get-go.”
"But last night was amazing," I countered. "I thought we agreed to take things slow."
"I thought so too, but, Christ, I feel like such a dick."
"What are you trying to say Matthew?"
"That we need to end this," he said bluntly. "If your dad sees these photos, if he finds out about us, he'll know I betrayed him."
"Forget about my dad. I'm an adult! I don't have to keep answering to him."
"Maybe not, but I do. I owe him that after nearly thirty damn years of friendship. Not to mention, you're half my age, Becca. You're practically still a kid."
"I'm twenty fucking three," I reminded him hotly. "I'm not a child."
"I know, but we can't do this. We just can't. I'm sorry."
He rose out his seat and aimed for the door, but I lay my hand on his arm, and he paused, looking down at it.
"What are you so afraid of?" I asked. "Do you care what people will think?"
"Of course I do. But it's not just that. I feel like some dirty old bastard taking advantage of a young girl."
I stood up and drifted my hand down his arm. I wasn't going to let him slip away so easily. Taking his hand, I squeezed it, massaging his palm with my thumb.
"Fuck what everybody thinks," I purred, stepping closer. "What does it matter?"
"I have a professional reputation to uphold. I can’t afford for anyone to think there is any impropriety happening. It could negatively affect my business."
"No one is going to think you’re doing anything wrong. You have a great reputation in the business scene. Not to mention, you didn’t initiate this. I did." I took another step closer, my breasts pushing into his chest. "You're not taking advantage of me," I said, softly, moving my other hand inside his
blazer to stroke his side. "I've always known who's in charge."
"And who's that?" he asked, the tension dissolving on his face before something twitched at the corners of his mouth.
"Me."
Reaching up, I kissed him as softly as possible. Nothing but a tease of what he would be missing out on if he walked away. Then I took my hands off his body and stepped away.
The energy between us grew, a gulf of heat and angst building up between us. His eyes told me he wanted to take me, to fuck the life out of me. But his body remained hesitant, keeping that safe distance between us.
I could see the desire in him growing. Could see that he was struggling to hold back. Looking down at his pants, I saw he was hard, his cock bulging down the length of his thigh.
"I suppose it's goodbye then," I said, turning around and pretending to resume my work. "If you want to keep our relationship professional, then that's your decision."
I was playing with him, of course, knowing full well that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Then I felt it. The energy between us reaching a crescendo. A sense that he was going to lunge right at me. From behind, I heard the door to my office lock and the slight creak of the floor as he moved.
Any second now and he won't be able to control himself. He just needs a push over the edge.
All it took was a look. And as I glanced over my shoulder and bit my lip, I could see him teeter over that precipice.
He moved like lightning, his heavy body landing on me with such force it knocked the air out of me. With a vice like grip, his arms clamped around my waist as his cock pressed into my ass.
“Becca, what the hell have you done to me?” he whispered in my ear as he took my wrists and pulled them behind my back.
My panties were flooded in an instant. I loved the feel of his strong body taking control of me. I pushed myself against him, submitting my body to him.
With one hand holding my thin wrists together, his other hand slid up the length of my thigh, under my skirt, and into my panties. He tore at them impatiently, stinging the skin of my thighs as he yanked them to the side.
Knocked Up by Daddy’s Best Friend Page 11