Her Best Friend's Dad

by Penny Wylder

  “And I bet you were going to make a move on Beck, Jean, and you’re married to my dad!” I hear myself yelling, but I can’t stop. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, or the jealousy burning in the pit of my stomach that she would get that close to Beck, but I hate everything about Jean. That she would even contemplate cheating on my father is near the bottom of my list.

  Her hand raises as if she’ll slap me, and I dodge the blow. “I overheard everything, Lia. Tasha is pregnant, probably by that good for nothing mechanic downtown. You’d think that she would have found someone decent given their money and connections.” Jean sneers at me as she climbs to her feet. “I bet she doesn’t want dear ol’ Daddy to know about her being knocked up, does she?” Jean’s voice goes sickeningly sweet. “If you want to be a good friend to Tasha, you’ll stay far away from Beck, or else.”

  Jean starts to leave, her nails scratching into the painted trim of my doorway. “You will not stay late or spend any time with him that isn’t one hundred percent about work. If you do, he’ll find out about Tasha, and I’ll tell your dad that you’re banging the boss.”

  She slams my door behind her, causing everything in the room to rattle. It’s only from my years as a moody teen and slamming the door repeatedly that I’ve gotten all my art affixed in such a way it won’t fall.

  I climb into my bed and cry. Jean has ruined everything. There’s nothing I can do that will end well for any of us. I can’t be with Beck, not if I want to protect Tasha. Jean would destroy that friendship in a heartbeat. And to lose my father’s trust at the same time? I sob into my pillow, throat burning with the tightness of my grief. Just when I started to get my pieces put back together, Jean had to come destroy it all.

  I could leave. The thought flits through my mind and is discarded almost immediately. Yes; I could leave now and raise our baby alone. Could, but I won’t. I can’t do that to Beck. It nearly destroyed him when Tasha’s mom cheated on him and then left. I won’t be the cause of that much pain. I care about him too much.

  I can’t be with him, not with Jean blackmailing me to stay away, but I can’t leave him either. We still have time for me to figure out how we can raise the baby without being together.

  It’s still early, but I curl up in bed without having eaten supper. The food wouldn’t stay down now anyways. At least I did take one of the vitamins Beck bought for me and the baby. That’s something.

  My blankets are soft, a refuge against the world outside my door. Beck’s shirt is inside my pillowcase, hiding from prying eyes, and I reach for it, letting my fingers close around the cuff. “Oh, Beck,” I cry. I’m only twenty-two; this is too much. “I don’t know what to do.”

  7

  Beck

  My bowtie tightens each time I swallow a mouthful of champagne, or at least it feels like it. I’ve tugged at it more times than I can count, and I’m reminded of why I normally wear a clip-on when I have to dress up. Tonight has to be perfect. Sliding my fingers deep into my pants pocket, I feel for the house key I had made for Lia. If nothing else, I’m going to convince her to go public with our relationship; that will make everything else easier. No one needs to know how sudden this has been for us; the fact that we’re together will be enough. I have to have her, and knowing how long she has wanted me makes this façade of merely being coworkers into a knife that drags along my ribcage whenever I see her.

  “That’s your secretary?” I already regret inviting my brother to the company party, but he’s attended all the prior ones. Uninviting him would have caused more questions than I’m willing to answer. Scott takes a step toward Lia, and I grab him. He’s not going to make a move on my woman.

  “That’s Lia, Paul’s daughter,” I confirm.

  My brother stops, does the math, and shakes his head. “Little Lia grew up to be a hottie. Does Tasha have any older friends who are just as attractive?”

  Hearing her name, Lia looks up at me from her perch on a barstool, and her eyes are swollen despite a makeup job that would rival any magazine photoshoot. I doubt anyone who is unfamiliar with her will notice. Her jaw tightens when she sees me staring, and I watch her hands flex before she spins around, returning to the cold shoulder from before she melted in my arms and begged me to just give her a bit of time.

  “I don’t think she likes being your secretary, brother dear. That or you pinched her derriere one too many times.” I watch as Scott wanders off to find a woman a little closer to his age to hit on, and I pray that he doesn’t try and take someone to my office for a little “I’m the boss’s brother” nookie on my desk. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  The rooftop garden has been decorated to look like a magical palace, complete with a water fountain doubling as a bar with mermen bartenders. I had no part in the decision on tails; I had given my company’s advertising team full creative control over the party. That’s one mistake I won’t be making again. At least the Christmas lights and greenery make for plenty of places to sneak off a text to Lia without worry of being caught.

  I type out my inquiry of how she’s doing, hoping that she’s only trying to keep a professional front. From my vantage point near the DJ, I watch as Lia checks her phone. Her eyes light up for the first time all night, and her smile brightens. I see her fingers start to move across the screen, and my own phone lights up with the little dots telling me she’s typing.

  Paul and Jean join her at the bar, and Lia slips her phone back into her clutch, message unsent. In the same instant, her whole countenance shuts down. Lia’s body seems to shrink, shoulders curving inwards, and she hides in plain sight. Gone is the vibrant young woman, leaving a shadowed twin in her place.

  Something is wrong, and I’m going to find out what that is. Fuck discretion. I’ve gone all fucking week giving her the space she begged for, being allowed to bring her water while she throws up in the bathroom during bouts of morning sickness, but not allowed to show her any affection otherwise. We need to go public. I can’t love her at a distance much longer.

  I bide my time, watching until Lia excuses herself to use the restroom. It’s near the exit from the party, and I cling to the corner of the brick wall and wait. She emerges, a goddess in a silver dress that skims her figure. Tasteful but teasing, the lace and satin can’t fool my body. I remember those curves and how they feel against me. “Lia.” Her name sounds like a prayer.

  Maybe it is.

  “Follow me,” I beg. Leading her behind the makeshift wall of trees and gauze-draped wooden frames, I shove aside one of the heavy sections and squeeze through. Once she has slipped between them, I close the escape route I made and take Lia to the private landing where we first had sex. We can hear the party, but there is no easy way for people unfamiliar with the roof to find their way over to us. It would be easier to go downstairs and up the other elevator than to hope they found the right section of false wall to move.

  “This is where it all started,” Lia whispers. She’s wringing her hands as she looks around at our gazebo. The curtains are drawn over the netting, deepening the shadows inside it.

  She’s wrong, though, and I tell her as such. “This started much longer ago. You told me that.”

  The night doesn’t hide her blush, and I reach for her face, letting my fingers trace her heated cheeks. “Beck, I shouldn’t have told you about my crush on you.” She leans into my palm, closing her eyes, and there are tears on her lashes when she steps back. The blush fades as pain crosses her face.

  I hate seeing that emotion there. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Lia. Not to me. When we kissed in the garage, I knew then and there I had to have you. That chemistry, the fiery punch in my gut when our lips touched…Even if we had no chemistry of dancing around each other for years, I would want you. You see the world so beautifully and make art that inspires others to see things where they would otherwise turn a blind eye. Lia, you couldn’t have changed this path we’re on.” I grab her waist, closing the distance between us. “Tell me you don’t feel how much I want
you, want us.”

  She tastes like lemonade, sweet and tart, refreshing as my tongue taps on her lower lip. Lia opens to me with a sigh, her whole body relaxing into my grip. My hands move on her back, mapping out the panels of lace divided by a zipper that ends just before her ass. I pull her into me, the near constant hard-on she gives me already seeking her.

  Lia groans, not in passion but frustration, and she fights free of my arms. Tears flow freely down her cheeks, making lines along her throat before they get caught by the neckline of her dress. She swipes at them, marring her makeup. I offer her my pocket square, and she takes it with a heartache inducing half-smile. I hate to see her like this.

  Again, I ask what happened. “Did I do something to make you hate me?” Does she regret this? I thought we were good together. Maybe I’m just bad with women, despite all my good intentions.

  Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, the first unattractive expression I’ve seen her make. “No,” she whispers at last. “How could I ever hate you?” Truly confused, she cocks her head to the side as if unsure how I could even come to that line of thought.

  My frustration and confusion snaps into my voice. “Then what the hell is it?” Could her parents be pushing her harder about money? She hates to feel like she’s taking advantage of them. “Is it about the loan you owe your dad? You should be able to pay him back in a few more months.” I know that had been hard for her to ask for, and if not for her pride I’d offer to pay back Paul now and be done with it.

  When she shakes her head again, I come up with the last thing I can think of. “Are you embarrassed about our age difference? I’m not,” I promise her. “I am in love with you, Lia, and I don’t give a rat’s ass about the years between us except for the years it meant I was waiting for a love like I feel for you.” I have the money to make sure she and our child are taken care of long after I’ve gone, which hopefully won’t be for at least another forty years.

  “I love you,” I repeat, coaxing Lia to let me hold her again. She gives in, just a little, and rests against my chest. “Please, Lia, tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

  She’s crying in earnest, her head tucking beneath my chin as I hold her. “I can’t tell you; it’s not my place. Don’t force me to tell you. I promised,” her voice is strained as her hands unclench and rest on my chest.

  “Shh. That’s okay. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me then. I won’t force you. Not now. Not ever if you don’t want to.” I breathe in the scent of her hair, longing to wake up to that smell on my pillow. “In exchange, I want something from you.” I use soft kisses along her cheek to coax her into looking up at me.

  “I need you, Lia. I love you so fucking much. I will keep your secrets, even those you won’t share with me, if I can still hold you like this. And this,” I add wickedly. My hands smooth down her back to her hips, squeezing the gentle curves, and end on her ass. I use the muscles there to seal our bodies together. “Will you be mine?”

  A war rages on behind her eyes, wavering between desire and fear. Lia’s tongue runs over her lips, and I can’t stop myself from licking at the line of moisture she leaves behind. We fit together too perfectly, and when I feel tentative hands trembling on their journey to my shoulders, they are grabbing me—not pushing me away.

  Her name drags out of me in a groan. We need to be even closer; I pick her up by her ass, and her legs spread to wrap around my waist. Thankful for my hours in the gym, I pause to lean Lia up against the gazebo’s steel post. She looks at me, nodding almost imperceptibly, urging me on. I reach up under her dress and seek out the heat of her. We’ll have years for proper foreplay and taking things slow; I need to be inside her. Lia sighs in my ear when my fingers wrap around her panties, and she laughs as I struggle to pull them off her one-handed.

  “Fuck it!” I declare and drop her to the ground. My hands go to her back, unzipping her dress. She stands before me, arms loose at her sides, and she steps out of her dress. “It was too pretty to tear off you.” A silvery gray lace bra holds her breasts up in offering, the scalloped edges giving a sneak peek at the pink tips.

  “Should I lose this too?” Lia starts to slip off a strap, but I stop her.

  “No. I like it. Leave it on.” I kneel, taking her panties with me as I drop to the ground. Heels and a bra are all that she wears, and I am kneeling in a suit that was custom made for me. “Do you see what you do to me, Lia?” I’m not talking about how hard my cock is. It’s everything about her. The way it seems the lights are focused on her alone, making her the brightest spot in my world.

  Leaning forward, I kiss her stomach. I can’t wait for when she’s further along and there will be even more of her to kiss. “I love you.” Resting my cheek against her belly button, I trace my fingertips up and down her thighs. “And I love our baby.” I kiss her stomach again. “And…” My fingers move up and into her unerringly. “I love how you taste.” She’s wet already, and I sink my fingers in as far as I can reach before withdrawing them, sucking them clean one by one.

  “Promise me.” I look up at her beautiful face when I part her folds with my thumbs. Slowly, unsure whom I’m teasing more, I lick from her entrance to the firming button of her clit. I know it’s manipulative as fuck to ask such demands of her when she’s aroused and needy, but no one ever said love and lust were fair, nor that I was anything but a caveman when it came to getting what I wanted. “Lia, look at me.” I take her clit between my lips, tugging at the bundle of nerves while my thumbs pry at her, stretching and just barely avoiding entering.

  She thrusts forward, hips tilted toward my face. “Beck!” Her pleas make me even harder. I can feel pre-come making a sticky puddle on the tip of my cock. I like hearing her beg.

  “Say it,” I demand. “Promise me we’ll be together, or at least try a relationship.” It’s a concession I’m willing to make given our circumstances. Circling my fingertips around her swollen opening, I await her answer. Spiraling around, teasing with the slightest stroke inside before slipping out again, I look up at my personal goddess and wait.

  “Yes!” she sobs at last, and echoes it again as I sink three fingers into her hot pussy. I fingerfuck her until she starts to gasp on each thrust. I let her use me for her pleasure, grinding down against the palm of my hand while I unbutton and unzip my pants with the other hand. My fingers and wrist ache before Lia tightens around me, squeezing my fingers.

  She quivers, and I get a glimpse of her biting her lip to hold back a cry before her head tips back and hides her expression. Lia pulses around me, body taut and almost vibrating with her climax. I withdraw my fingers, wipe them off on the back of my pants, and hoist Lia up again. She’s glassy-eyed when I get her at my level, and she giggles while trying to wrap her legs around me. “I think I’m drunk on you,” she laughs into my ear.

  My fingers are digging into her ass and thighs while I maneuver her into the right position, but she doesn’t seem to mind any of the potential discomfort. Instead, she’s whimpering and begging for more as we work to align ourselves. I feel nothing but the silken welcoming of her body as Lia lowers her body onto my cock, and I thrust up into the heat.

  “Yes!” I’m unsure who says it first, but we’re both chanting it in time with our fucking. I kiss her, covering her mouth to swallow the loudening cries. This is not the sort of spectacle I want my employees discovering; Lia is not here for their entertainment.

  The gazebo squeaks, and I carry Lia to the brick wall leading to the stairs down to my office, and I lean her against it. “Tell me if you start to get scratched. We can go to the couch or inside,” I murmur between kisses. To be inside her like this, where I’m meant to be… I can withstand the burning muscles in my arms for as long as it takes.

  Our bodies rock together, thrusting in tempo with the music blaring through the night air. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful. Her lips are red and parted, swollen from my kisses. Her whole body is flushed with exertion. I want to fuck her
all night long, watching her face contort with orgasm after orgasm.

  “Beck!” Her teeth clamp down on my neck, just above the collar of my jacket. She moans, making my body vibrate as she bites even harder, her pussy tightening around my cock.

  I jerk inside her, the pinpoints of pain in her bite becoming pleasure I didn’t know I liked. It explodes through me, and I’m coming before I realize. Fire and tension spiral through my balls until I feel the come jetting out of me. I grunt, trying to stifle the sounds I long to release.

  We stand, or I stand and she clings to me, until I feel myself starting to soften. We’re panting, exhausted and satiated for the first time in a long while, when I hear rhythmic clicking approaching behind us. Lia panics, her eyes going wide as she tries to lift up off my dick. My come leaks out of her as I slip out, and in any other moment, I would want to kneel and watch as it dripped from her.

  I lower her to the roof’s floor and use my body to shield her as she scrambles for her dress and picks it up. My balls catch on my pants as I try to tuck them back inside, and pain erupts, making me limp in more ways than one.

  I spin to see who came up to my private balcony, and there is a shattering of glass as moonlight picks out glints of pale hair, bottle blonde to be sure. Jean. A very livid Jean surrounded by shards of what smells like a broken beer bottle.

  “I should have known, Lazy Lia. I get it. Not even threats can keep your money grubbing paws off Beck.” She kicks a larger piece of glass in our direction, sneering as it breaks.

  Threats? Did Jean threaten my Lia? Is that why Lia has been off lately? Rage colors my vision, and I feel my control thinning out to a hair’s thickness.

  “So, Lia, why don’t you tell your silver fox of a fuck buddy about his whore daughter? You’re such good friends and all, but I’m sure your mouth has been too full of his cock to tell him that his daughter is knocked up.” Jean’s face twists into a mockery of a smile. Drinking has increased her cruelty and pettiness.