Her Best Friend's Dad

by Penny Wylder

  When I walked in on my wife with another man, it had shattered me. It’s been nine years, and I still find it difficult to trust a woman with my heart. I gave Carrie the world, and she took me for seven million dollars, my favorite car, our penthouse downtown, and access to my private jet whenever she wanted it for the first year following our divorce. At least she gave up all custody rights to Tasha. I’m not sure what I would have done if she had tried to take our daughter.

  Hell, I’m not sure what I will do now with Lia coming to work under me. Under me. I start filing papers that had built up on my desk. She should be kept busy, with actual work—not getting busy with me.

  I have not felt lust like this ever, this distraction and need. From the moment I walked into the garage and saw her under the car I wanted to fuck her, claim her, make her mine. The nearly instant arousal that filled me by just being near her was enough to make feel like a randy teenager. While I had been almost desperate with the desire to fuck her right there in my garage, I would have settled for licking away the sweat glistening on her chest.

  Lia gives new meaning to the word “stunning.” She was always cute, and I can admit to harboring a few naughty thoughts over the years, but I never allowed myself to go down those paths even mentally as more than a momentary lapse of propriety. She was a minor—a teen girl who would wear the skimpiest bikinis while sunbathing on my back porch as if to purposely tease me—and I was happily married. At least, I thought Carrie and I were happy together. Now, though, Lia has filled out into a curvy young woman who is so down-to-earth it nearly broke all my resolve when I caught her staring at me. Her mother had been a striking woman before cancer left her wasted and weak. Genetics has been kind to Lia.

  Watching Lia work, tongue peeking out from between her lips as she immersed herself in her art, left me breathless. The strength of her limbs from years of lifting heavy components into place and working with power tools gave her toned muscles and an internal fortitude lacking in so many of her peers. I knew from her conversations with Tasha during Lia’s years away that she was as beautiful inside as she was out. There was a gentleness to her that had her donating hours of face painting to local hospitals’ pediatric patients as well as gifting art for their walls so that the children had nice things to look at as they convalesced.

  Being near Lia astonished me. Heat and desire struck each time she moved, and even now I find my body responding to the memory of her in my arms. I don’t know how to react to her, and my brain is left out of commission in the wake of just her smile.

  Tasha told me over dinner last week that Lia was coming back, so her appearance in my garage had not been a surprise. It had been no effort at all on my part to grant her permission to work in my garage workshop. It was not like I had time often enough to play there. There was space enough for five cars, and we only used two of them.

  I had prepared myself for the pretty, bubbly, snarky, and often lost in her own head girl whom I had watched grow from childhood into her teen years. She was far from the awkward teen growing into her long legs while learning about the world. I still remember catching her making out with a boy on my own couch while Tasha was with her boyfriend in her room. Lia was the diversion so Tasha wouldn’t get caught doing more than I wanted to see in my home. They had been grounded from each other for a few weeks over that one.

  But Lia, at twenty-two, a few months older than my own daughter, makes everything that much harder. I’m glad she’s home, despite the reason for it, but resisting her and whatever it is we have brewing between us is going to test my resolve.

  I am no stranger to women wanting me, but other than a single interlude when I attempted to start dating and slake my thirst for human companionship, I have not welcomed anyone into my bed. It is hard to know who is after me for my money and connections versus being honestly interested in me. Hell, I would probably even welcome someone interested solely in my body if I knew it wasn’t because they’ve seen me in various magazines and know who I am.

  Despite being old enough to have an adult daughter and the greying hair that comes with having such a free spirited daughter, I take care of myself. I work out in the company gym at least three days a week with a trainer and have equipment at home as well. Keeping my body looking how it did during my early twenties requires determination, but it is an effort that leaves me feeling in control of my life. I eat right most of the time, and while I do have a fondness for lattes and other sugar and milk-laden coffee drinks, I make up for them on the treadmill and by lifting weights.

  When I stripped off my shirt and jacket to help Lia, I wasn’t trying to show my physique. Teasing her had been a bonus effect. My mind was on auto-pilot from seeing the bombshell she had become, and my only thought was on not ruining a thousand dollars or so of fabric with grease. The drycleaner would have flayed me alive when our housekeeper took in the weekly basket of clothes.

  I ended up covering the shirt in come after Lia left, only marginally better than ruining it in the garage. My cock refused to deflate, not even talking to Tasha had been able to calm my desires. Hiding my plight with the folded jacket, I’d gone into my study, locked the door, and then quickly jacked off, thinking of how Lia felt in my arms. Those full, high breasts of hers… The way I wanted to lick off the sweat I’d seen beading between them when she was bent over. How I longed to suck her nipples into my mouth.

  When she wriggled her hips at me, I knew she had caught me looking. My cock had gotten hard with that move of hers, and it was only as I thought of her kneeling on my bed, shimmying before I could fuck her, that I found the release I needed.

  Lia did not kiss like a young woman just out of college who was looking to tease. She kissed me like she meant it, like she felt everything I did. The chemistry, the cotton candy buzz of her tongue on mine, sang in my blood long after she pushed me off her and ran away without us talking about what happened.

  I know I should apologize to her for letting it happen, but I don’t think I can. I need her.

  It isn’t proper for me to want my daughter’s best friend, a girl I’ve watched grow into an astonishing beauty. There is just something magic about Lia, something that makes my whole body throb with the need to get closer. She could easily become addictive. I knew I should resist any temptation affecting me this strongly, but then I had to go and hire her.

  What the fuck was I thinking? I am going to lose my mind, or at least my promise to myself to never sleep with an employee. Maybe that’s why the second thing I did after Lia left was call Jean last night. If Lia is my employee, I can do my damnedest to keep my rule. It would give me a buffer against the feelings that are already going well beyond lust and into a dangerous territory from just one encounter.

  Lia makes me hungry. It is more than lust; it is the hunger to provide for her, not in a paternal way, but to see that all her dreams are made reality. I know that Jean is not very nice to her and never has been, and if it wouldn’t make things worse, I would throw my weight around as Jean’s boss to fix that. Jean is a great member of the R&D team, but not so much that I would be sad to see her go if it meant making Lia happy. It’s an employer’s market right now with more applicants than jobs. She would be easily replaced.

  It is a dangerous move, I know, to bring Lia in as my secretary. I haven’t needed one, preferring to share my CFO’s office assistant when the need does arise. It would be less work for me and give me time to think about future ideas directly instead of only in scheduled planning sessions or when I’m on a plane to a site. I have the money in my budget for an assistant, and it would save me time by having someone dedicated to keeping me organized.

  When Lia first moved back to town, Jean had asked me to bring her step-daughter onto the staff. I had declined, not wanting Jean to think I was doing it for her sake. I didn’t want to do her any favors and have her try to offer me any in return. She flirts a bit too much for trying to keep things professional and she’s married. Sleeping with a married woman is against my c
ode of ethics; even if I found Jean attractive, which I don’t, I could never consider her as a partner. One of Tasha’s older coworkers had asked me out on a date once, and I had accepted out of curiosity until I found out she was married. Social media makes it easy to find out those sort of secrets if you’re willing to look.

  My shoes squeak against the marble tile as I make my way to the en suite bathroom, distracting me from thoughts of all I want to provide for Lia. I stand in front of the sink, looking at myself, and I try to shake off the urge to climb into the small shower stall and let cold water soak into me until my desire ebbs. I’m a mess, and the boss can’t afford to be that way. Part of me, probably the part of me currently swollen in my pants, wants to find out where things could go with Lia so we can then move on with that urge taken care of.

  I know she is the forbidden fruit, and that maybe this is my mid-life crisis starting to hit me, but I want her. “I need her,” I tell my reflection. “I have to have—”

  “Mr. Huntsworth, your new office assistant has finished with human resources.” My chief of security sounds amused as his voice plays from the speaker on my desk.

  She’s on her way up. The thought repeats itself in time with the aching in my cock.

  “You wanted me to call you when she was being shown her way to the executive office floor.” The line goes silent. My fingernail catches on the red disc of a call button beside the vanity in my bathroom. I press it, wait for Brian to answer, and then thank him for the notice. There’s no time for me to get my libido in check, so the best I can do is sit down at my desk to hide the reaction Lia evokes from me.

  I wait at my desk—one minute becomes two, and then it’s soon five minutes before I hear muffled voices outside of the security clearance down the hall. I try to focus on the paperwork in front of me. The chirp of a badge being swiped lights up a blue LED on the panel beside my phone, giving me a warning that someone will be entering. Only a handful of people have clearance to get in here, and most of those require the security guard in the hall or someone inside to buzz them in. I like having my privacy to work without interruption.

  Not that I couldn’t tell Lia was near without the warning. My cock is like a divining rod, pointing straight toward her. It feels as if all the blood in my body is rushing down to make my pants smaller. My fingers wrap around the bulge and tug, pulling my dick upright so that it isn’t trapped in a painful position. Glad there aren’t cameras in my office to catch the motion, I make a mental note to have my tailor add more room to the crotch in my slacks after I return from this business trip. I won’t have time for those alterations to be done before I go. I’ll have to always wear jackets buttoned or my shirt untucked if I’m going to be around Lia. I don’t see this effect she has on me going away anytime soon.

  “One. Two. Three.” I breathe out between each number in an attempt to calm my racing pulse. Reaching forward, my fingers hover over the switch that will call out to the desk in the lobby beyond my office door. Lia will be working just thirty feet from me all day, five days a week. I flip it, feeling the vibration in the air as it makes her phone light up with the silent summons. Beneath it is the intercom button, and I murmur her name as I press it down, inviting her to come into my office.

  She bids farewell to whichever intern was sent from Human Resources to guide her up to our space, and I’m glad that the CFO’s office is on the opposite wing of our floor. We have full privacy for the conversation that might come. I need to know how she feels about our kiss. I need to know if she wants more as badly as I do.

  Lia enters, timid and nervous with hands playing with the hem of her blouse. A skirt dusts the top of her knees, and it just skims the hips I was clinging to yesterday as if they were my lifeline. Her breasts are hidden by the demure shirt, buttoned all the way up to her neck with a string of simple pearls over it, but I can imagine the generous curves I had the slightest glimpse of before. If anything, her outfit is plain and should be boring, but it incites something in me. It makes me every hungrier. I want so much to undo her hair from its careful confines and fist my hand in it as I lick my way down her throat.

  She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Hi.” Her voice trembles before she steels herself and repeats it more surely. “Do I call you Mr. Huntsworth?” Lia has her head tilted down, and she looks up at me through the sweeping edge of her bangs. Her lips part, and the tip of her tongue glosses over them.

  She’s nervous, and I selfishly hope it’s because of me. “Beck is fine unless I happen to be in a meeting. ‘Sir’ works too,” I tease.

  Lia blushes before rolling her eyes. She even does that artfully. “Thank you for the job, Beck.”

  The way she says my name makes my cock throb. “I should be thanking you for accepting it, Lia.” I stand and offer her my hand. Her fingers are cool as they slip into my palm, and the shake we share is anything but innocent despite the chaste touch. I want her grip to be lower and firmer, and with the quick dropping of her eyes, I sense that her thoughts are moving in the same direction.

  “I am grateful,” she reiterates. “Jean thinks I’ve just been a waste of space since I had to come back home. My dad is just happy to see me.”

  “He isn’t the only one,” I find myself interjecting. Our hands drop as if the words were too much and break the spell connecting us. I try not to reach for her again, to pull her to me and kiss her right here in my office. It’s hard, harder than the throbbing flesh wanting to bury itself inside her, to resist making the offer. Instead, I sit back down and ask if everything at her desk is satisfactory.

  She comments on how she needs to get settled in with the computer and go through the manual she was given for getting logged in. I’m loathe to let her go, wanting her in here with me, and for a moment I consider having her desk brought in here to share my space. I don’t want to be the creepy, stalker boss, however.

  “If you need anything, Lia, just ask.” Even I can hear the double meaning in my husky words.

  Lia swallows, her neck bobbing. She looks at my mouth, her eyes locking on mine again as if daring me to come to her again. Not going to her is torture. Every muscle in my body screams her name as I cling to my chair in hopes of not succumbing to the urge to kiss her again.

  She gives me a shy smile, one that shakes a bit as she swallows once more before speaking. “I’m fine, Beck. I’ll let you know if I have any questions. If you’re done with me, can I go to my desk?”

  I’m not done with her at all, not by a long shot. “Go ahead. Calls aren’t going to your phone yet unless they have the direct extension. We’ll have everything rerouted to your desk tomorrow. I didn’t want you having to learn our phone system today on top of everything else. Mostly though, you’ll be making copies, running errands on site, and keeping me on schedule.”

  She steps out, closing the glass door, and I can see her back as she sits down. I rest my elbows on my desk, palm my forehead and hair, and I groan so loudly my chest aches. What the hell is wrong with me?

  The entire time Lia was in here, I was like a teenaged boy going through puberty. If this is how I’m going to be around her, maybe this was not a great idea after all. I don’t know if I can hide my reaction to her. Yeah, the tailor is going to have a lot of work in order so I can avoid splitting open the seams on my pants anytime Lia touches me.

  I push my hair back out of my face, and my daughter’s beautiful smile is the first thing I see. The picture of her taken on a cruise around Greece last spring has been on my desk since the moment we got home from the vacation. My daughter. My not-so-little girl who will always be my baby… Lia is her age. They’ve been best friends for more than half their lives.

  Groaning again for good measure, I force all thoughts of Lia out of my head and focus on my to-do list. If we’re going to make this work, I have to be able to actually function. If I wanted to pay her to distract me… Well, that’s not exactly legal in our state.

  It’s nearing lunch when Lia interrupts me at
last, but her question is not what I wanted to hear. “You have a visitor, Beck. I’m not sure which button will buzz her past the security door. Which one is it?”

  Her voice is cold, and I know of few people who could earn that sort of reception from her. Lia was devastated when Carrie left me. She had claimed at the time that she hated to see Tasha lose her mom. Now, though, I think it was far more personal. It must be Jean. I don’t want to deal with Jean today, but the wrath Lia would endure isn’t worth my preferences right now.

  “Our door will open manually from this side. You can either directly open the door or there is a yellow square that lights up on your phone when someone doesn’t have access. If you press that, it will open the door for them.” She’s already at the door and pushing the button before I can ask her who it is. Security would have called me if Jean’s visit were announced as a visit for me. She must have told them she was here to see Lia.

  I straighten the papers on my desk, hiding the top sheet of confidential numbers. Jean is leaning on Lia’s desk, and Lia has put herself between her step-mother and my slightly ajar door. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll check with Mr. Huntsworth to see if he’s available.”

  “Oh, he’s available for me, Lia.” Jean pushes past her and lets herself in, reminding me why I’m glad she can’t get past security without permission each time.

  “Jean—” Lia sounds exasperated as she stomps after Jean into my office. “I’m sorry, Mr. Huntsworth.” The professional tone is a one-eighty from when she first came in a few hours ago. Her ability to project the right persona as the secretary to the CEO of my corporation means a lot to me. I need someone who can provide the correct image.

  “It’s okay, Lia. If you want to go for lunch, it would be great to head down to the cafeteria now or go out if you prefer. My food will be sent up from the cafeteria in about an hour. If you could be back by then, it would be great. I have some things to go over with you for while I’ll be away.” I can get back to work (or to fantasizing about Lia) depending on how quickly I am able to rid myself of my impromptu visitor.