Over The Edge: A Dads Best Friend Romance

by Charlotte Grace

  It was painful to turn her away. It was going to be painful to see her again. If she was determined I didn't know how long I was going to be able to turn her down again. I needed to practice restraint. Something like this could get out of hand fast and I could see that it was dwindling down the wrong road. I had to get back in control.

  I left the office and made my way home. Having a safe haven was important and I was ready to reevaluate the situation until Trevor came in through the kitchen.

  "Hey, old man," the mirror image of me in my youth smirked at me. "I made us dinner. I couldn't wait for tomorrow so you're going to have to listen to my pitches over a meal."

  I relaxed. I needed the time to myself to reel in the lust I felt for Missy but it would have to wait. "And you cooked?"

  "Something I've been experimenting with." He went back into the kitchen. "I kept it simple. Buffalo wings and beer. You can't argue with that, can you?"

  I followed him into the kitchen and took one of the stools at the bar. "I can't." I dropped my briefcase on the floor. "Go ahead and start talking, kid. But you're going to have to give me a beer first."

  He laughed a little before he went to the fridge. He came out with two bottles and put one on the bar in front of me. "I think we need to get ahead of the game in the tech department." He gave me a look before he went back to coating the wings in sauce. "I'm betting if you let me gather up a brainstorming session or two with the tech department, we can come up with a good plan for that. If we can manage it on private and consumer liners we can nail a government contract easily."

  "That's big aspirations," I said admiringly, trying to not let pride get the better of me.

  "I've got some ideas." He pointed a wooden spoon at me. "I want to make sure that Hollister Aviation is going to be something that sticks around. You've laid the groundwork and if this is something that you're going to pass down I want to make sure I keep up the integrity of it."

  I couldn't fault him, thinking of the future. "Have your brainstorm meeting." I sipped at my beer. "In fact, if you can bring me an idea that you and your team can draw up plans for we might make the brainstorming a regular thing." I leaned on the counter then. "Give your team the proper credit, too. You can't do all the hard work yourself. If you have good people, they will stick with you and help you be successful."

  "You're right," he said as he put a plate in front of me. "I know it and I got a great team that I intend to keep."

  My son had a head on his shoulders; that was something that made me swell with pride. The fact that he wanted to do nothing but improve the company I started was so admirable. We sat around the kitchen island talking about his ideas, some of the dreams he had but he hadn't quite figured out the specifics on how to execute them.

  "It will only be a matter of time." I had gotten up for another beer. "Having someone that understands what you're trying to create will probably help you better." While I had a clue, some of his ideas did go over my head. Technology wasn't something I was unfamiliar with and I was comfortable working with it on a regular basis, but Trevor had a little be more of a head for it.

  I spied the time. "It's after midnight, kid. I'm going to call it. Why don't you stay here for the night instead of getting out at this hour?"

  He snorted at me. "Are you saying you miss having me around?"

  "Not enough for you to move back in." I started for the stairs, intent on finding my bed. "I don't like you bringing a string of girls in here at all hours."

  He laughed out loud. "Make you feel bad about your game?"

  "Nope." If only he knew how good my game was. I made my way into my bedroom and considered just falling right into bed. I was still on edge, though. I still had that raw feeling that came from taking the paddle to Missy's ass in the forefront of my mind. The conversation with Trevor didn't make any bit of difference. There was still the vision of her bent over my desk with her round ass up in the air and exposed.

  My cock started to throb in response to my line of thinking. There wouldn't be a way for me to get sleep just thinking about it. I laid down and turned off the lights. I would have to give myself some relief if I intended to get any sort of rest. I took the time to strip down to my underwear, with the kid in the house I’d have to practice some modesty.

  I pulled my cock from my boxer briefs and stroked its length. She begged for me to fuck her; I could still hear the sound of her voice in my head. I wrapped my fingers around the shaft and stroked a slow rhythm. Everything, from the look of her in that dress to the sounds she made while I spanked her, everything was brought to the front of my mind as I started to jack myself harder.

  The vision of what she was and what I had seen of her faded into the look of her pouty little lips wrapped around me. I stifled a groan. I would fuck that mouth just as hard as I would fuck that cunt. Something told me she would be tight, too. My cock throbbed in protest; it would be so easy to find out. She had begged for it and I could have easily given it to her.

  But I couldn't give in. Fantasies were one thing, but giving in was a whole other thing. My balls tightened and I made no attempt to stave off my orgasm. Instead, I let the vision of her bent over my desk and me sliding into her tight, wet cunt be what finished me off. I couldn't contain the groan that rocked out of me, but I had the wherewithal to make sure I didn't make a complete mess of myself.

  Fucking my hand would have to be enough for the time being. Things would be far too dangerous to give into Missy. She would have to accept that just as much as I would.

  Chapter 7

  Missy

  The drum of music wasn’t helping slow down my pulse. Neither was the fruity drink that some random man bought me--not it that stopped me from drinking it. I was on an edge that I just couldn't back down from no matter how much I had to drink. Dancing only seemed to make things worse, even when it came to dancing with Jenna. All the sweat soaked bodies pressed together didn't help. I had gone to the bar with the intent of getting a breath when I decided maybe I should try to find a replacement for Mr. Hollister instead.

  There were enough men here to offer up a distraction. It shouldn't be a hard thing to do. But I couldn’t help moving to the beat of the music, yet the first prospective man only proves himself to be an idiotic boy. "Hey baby," he purred in my ear as he slid into position behind me. His hips moved against my ass, igniting the sting from the paddling it got earlier. "How about we take this fun on the dance floor?"

  "If I wanted to be out there," I pulled away and turned around. "I would be."

  And it was a boring string of boys who offered up no sort of temptation at all. It got to the point that instead of giving them any sort of attention I just rolled my eyes and waved them away. I pulled my phone out as my fun seemed to dwindle into drinking at the bar. On a whim I couldn't explain, I Googled him.

  Geoffrey Hollister. There he was. I couldn't help but stare at as I downed drink after drink. He was forty-five, something I knew before I even looked him up this time. It didn't faze me a bit. I thumbed through the information until I came up with an address. It looked real. It wasn't in Seattle proper but out in the suburbs that I bet only catered to rich households. It wasn't far from my parents’ own large home.

  After looking up Mr. Hollister, I set out to find Jenna. She was in a throng of dancers, moving to the beat and seemed completely lost to it. I wedged in front of her between a man that didn't seem too keen on giving up his spot until he noticed I was female. I drew in close and found her ear. "I'm getting out of here."

  She pulled back, her face clouding with confusion. "It's still early," she hollered back at me. “Why?”

  I stopped dancing and so did she. Granted, that didn't stop the rest of the crowd. “I have a boyfriend,” I shouted back to her. “I’m not into this anymore.”

  The confusion was evident, but she didn’t stop me. “Be careful,” she hollered at me in response.

  I held up my phone and showed her the Uber app where I had already hailed a ride. S
he gave me a thumbs up and I started to ease out of the dance club. I found my way back to the bar, ordered a shot and when the app informed me my ride was here, I determined that's where I would be going.

  It took about thirty minutes before I got to the elaborate mansion that seemed fitting for the man I worked for. I gave the driver an extra tip and made my way up the sloping hill to the modest front porch. I didn't think about the time, though the last time I glanced at my phone it was right around three. I banged on the door with a fist. I was going to confront him. I was going to give him a piece of my mind for denying me.

  I was going to make him fuck me because he couldn't leave me like this. I noticed the doorbell and I started tapping on it as I hammered my fist on the door. I wouldn't be ignored anymore. When the door finally opened I launched myself at him without paying attention, "Please." I was back to begging. "You can't leave me like this for the entire night."

  "W-what?" The man caught me in his arms and held onto me.

  "I need you." I felt my breath hitch. Was I so desperate I was going to cry?

  "Trevor? Is that you?" Mr. Hollister's voice cut through my fogged mind and I looked up to see that he wasn't who was holding me.

  "Missy?" Trevor looked just as confused as I felt.

  Dammit. I slapped him hard without thinking. Why couldn't he be his father? I heard heavy steps coming down the stairs. "I hope you didn't text your girlfriend to come over. I would rather not deal with this shit tonight."

  "It's not," he said in his defense, and I could see the open confusion on both of their faces when Mr. Hollister finally got a look at me.

  "Missy, what are you doing here?" He didn't sound angry, at least that was a saving grace.

  "I'm pretty sure she's drunk," Trevor offered to his father. "You can smell the alcohol on her breath."

  "Missy." Mr. Hollister looked rightfully angry. "It's too late to deal with this right now. You need to leave." He started to corral me out the door. "I'll have to talk about this inappropriate behavior with your father," he growled in my ear. I didn't even get a chance to protest or plead with him to please just fuck me.

  Instead, he deposited me out onto the front porch. That's when the tears finally started to fall and they fell hard. I slumped onto the front step and didn't bother to try to stifle them. My vision was blurred and I got to the point where I didn't even bother with my phone. I just sat out there and sobbed.

  I don't know how long I was out there, and I hoped I wasn't that loud with my crying, but I heard the door open behind me. "Come on." His voice was stern. I had a wild notion that he might spank me again. But all he did was lead me inside.

  "Please," I started, hiccuping. I hadn't gotten myself under control yet. I wasn't expecting him to bring me inside. I wasn't expecting any of this to happen. "Please," I repeated. I couldn't even get out that I wanted him, that at this point I needed him. I was just too distracted with the arm he had around my shoulders and the smell of him.

  "No." His voice was hard. "You are going to sleep this off." It was a command that I couldn't argue with. "And this is never going to happen again. Do you understand?"

  I nodded numbly as he led me up the stairs and into what I took to be a guest room. He even went as far as to tuck me into bed.

  There was no more scolding, no threats of calling my father. All he did was put me to bed. I felt so exhausted after all of it, from work to the dance club to now, that it didn't take me long to drop off. I could regret my bad decisions in the morning.

  Chapter 8

  Geoffrey

  I never expected for it to happen. I didn't think she’d come to my front door drunk, and I wasn't entirely sure, at first, what to do with her. Any man in his right mind would probably take advantage of the situation, after all, she was young and beautiful. I couldn't do that. It didn't keep me from wanting her but even as I heard her beg my son, thinking he was me, I knew I couldn't give in. There was a lesson to be learned from this.

  It was time to face the trouble that was coming from the situation I had helped create. I entered the guest room where she slept and studied her curled up in the bed; it was endearing. She was a mess with her hair tangled around her head like a halo and her makeup smeared on her face. Even though I would normally find something like that distasteful, this time I didn't.

  I couldn't put this off anymore; I shook her awake. "Missy." I kept my voice hard so she wouldn't try to worm her way out of this. She was a girl who was used to getting her way, but it was going to end with me. "Wake up," I demanded as I gave her a hard shake.

  She blinked awake and it immediately became clear she was more than a little drunk the night before. "Mr. Hollister?"

  "Yes." I straightened my back to glower at her. "You're not in your own room, you're at my house. I don't know what kind of night you had but it's time I take you home."

  "What?" She looked like she hadn't quite woken up yet, and I didn't have the desire to wait for her to catch up.

  "Come on." I clapped my hands together. The loud sound seemed to startle her awake. "Get a move on. I'll let you take a moment in the bathroom but that's all you're getting out of me."

  She got out of the bed and shakily nodded. I didn't give her more than five minutes in the bathroom before I hurried her out. She had taken the time to clean her face and I could see the growing dread there.

  Good. She needed to realize she messed up. I guided her to my car and counted my blessings as she didn't seem to put up much of a fuss. The ride to her home was quiet and I found myself glancing at her in worry. Had she fallen asleep?

  No, she looked as if she were in shock. Maybe she was awaiting the impending consequences for what she had done. I wondered if Ross really intended to cut her off if I were to fire her? It's not something I planned on doing unless she forced my hand, but I was curious. He didn't seem like the type of person to do that. Granted, he wasn't the father of the year either.

  We pulled up to her house and I made a gentleman of myself, opening her door for her and helping her out of the car. She had become pale and I hoped that her hangover wasn't so severe I would have to watch her puke.

  I knocked on the door and waited for an answer. "I live here," she said sullenly. "I have keys; we could just go in."

  "We will wait for someone to answer the door," I said, so there wouldn't be any confusion as to what I planned to do.

  I heard her whimper and the moment the door opened I saw her mother standing there looking between the two of us, concerned. "Geoffrey? Missy? Is everything okay?"

  "Everything is fine, Linda. Ross available?"

  "Of course, he's in his study." She waved us in and led the way. It was clear that she was confused about what was going on but she didn't bother to question me. "Missy, you look horrible. Go get changed and cleaned up."

  "No." I was quick to stop the girl from having an out. "I need her to stay in here with me while I talk to Ross."

  We entered the study and my friend stood from behind his desk. "Is everything okay?"

  "Missy turned up on my doorstep at about three this morning," I informed him, trying to decide just how much I should divulge. I turned to look at her and raised an eyebrow. Should I tell him how she begged for me?

  No, no that would be too much.

  "What?" I turned to see Ross's reaction. He looked surprised and I watched as he floundered, his mouth opening and closing. "Why would you do that?"

  Missy shrugged helplessly beside me. "I was drunk." She didn't make any other excuses and I waited to see if she was going to tell her father the real reason behind her showing up at my door so late. "It's not an excuse," she started weakly. "But my judgment was impaired, and I didn't make a good decision."

  It was an adult response. I expected whining or something of that nature. "How could you do that?" She looked decidedly dejected as she shrugged again. “If you decide to fire her,” he looked at me, “I completely understand. She and I will have to make arrangements about what will happ
en now.”

  “That’s not necessary.” I raised a hand to make sure he was looking at me. “I’m not firing her. I just wanted her to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.” He looked back at Missy. “I will be sure to give her a proper reprimand on Monday, don't you worry about that."

  "Are you sure?"

  I could tell he didn't think I was serious.

  "I feel like this is something I should handle. I can only imagine that if this was anyone else the police would be involved." He glared at Missy as he spoke. "Then she would ruin herself by putting something on her record."

  "Don't worry," I told him as I turned to look at his daughter. "I will handle her on Monday, you have my word on that." I watched as she seemed to quiver. She didn't speak, though she looked fully cowed by our talk about her. I couldn’t help but be amused by the situation. I expected this to be awkward, confronting my friend about something like this. But I felt more entertained by it than anything else. I only expected that it would be better come Monday, how she would feel having to face me after all of this.

  "I'm beginning to think this drinking she has been doing is turning into a problem," he complained out loud, right in front of her. "If this happens again," he growled at her but stopped the threat there so he could give me his full undivided attention. "I owe you more than one with this. We were at our wits end with her."

  "It's a pleasure dealing with her." I couldn't help but smile at him with that one. He wouldn't know that I meant it literally.

  Chapter 9

  Missy

  The weekend was horrible. After what happened Friday night I elected to stay in. I didn’t want a repeat and I felt so torn up after what I had done I thought it was probably best. I had never been rejected so hard before like that. Now that Mom and Dad knew about it they were talking about what’s to happen after I get fired from this job.