Dad's Best Friend: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 83)

by Flora Ferrari

  I’d managed to sneak in a quick beer with her dad that night before taking an Uber home, but I hadn’t so much as had a peek at her.

  Nor was it even on my radar.

  She was only eighteen at the time. So the last time I saw her she must have been…sixteen or seventeen? Just a kid.

  And that’s always how I’d seen her.

  Until tonight.

  She’d changed so much I didn’t even recognize her as the same person.

  Talk about a total transformation.

  She’d traded in the pigtails for long, flowing golden locks.

  Gone were the braces and in their place were a perfect set of pearly white teeth.

  And those big glasses she wore? Well she must have switched to contacts or now that she was older had opted for Lasik.

  But my eyes sure didn’t have any trouble picking out the biggest change of all.

  Her body.

  Instead of a kid with legs too big for her body that made her a bit on the clumsy side, now she had a fuller, more athletic figure. She looked more like a college soccer player and the kind of woman there was absolutely no way I would be able to keep my hands off of.

  The first woman that ever made me feel this way, and damn what a feeling it was.

  But right now all I feel is the cold bricks against my back and the cold cement underneath my ass as I sit just next to this stupid restaurant.

  The only problem is that it’s the lower level of the building I live in so going home for me means just getting in the elevator and calling it a night, which is what I’d planned on doing tonight until I got a last second text from Darren to grab a drink for my birthday.

  I was so addicted to work I’d totally forgotten what day it was.

  But damn, did she ever wake me up out of that slumber and show me exactly what life’s about.

  It’s not the cars, the money, the nice house or any of those fancy things.

  It’s that view that captivates you…the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

  For some it’s the arch of the Golden Gate Bridge, but for me it’s a different kind of arch.

  The one I want to see her back in when I’ve got her body exposed underneath me as I claim her as mine.

  I take the last drag of the cigarette and stick it in the sandbox that’s meant for these things. I laugh at myself.

  I made it exactly forty years without smoking a cigarette, and now I’ve had exactly one in my life.

  And it was awful.

  And more importantly it did nothing to calm me from the high that I’m still on thinking about her.

  “Mister Damm?” a voice says out of nowhere.

  The light, soft notes of her voice are like a spring wind across a piano keyboard and I turn to see her shy smile.

  I can’t believe the idea of spring winds and piano keyboards are even in my internal lexicon. I’m a hardened businessman, competing in the shark-infested waters of Silicon Valley’s tech world by day, and competing on the athletic field and gym at night.

  My mind and my body are just as sharp, built, and masculine as any man to ever walk the face of this earth, but there’s something about her femininity that shatters me from the inside.

  A tornado of thoughts swirl through my head, peeling away layer by layer of armor I’ve built up inside over the course of an entire lifetime.

  A lifetime I know now can only be complete with her.

  And that innocent smile tells me she’s just as innocent as I thought she was. And I’m going to be the first, and only one, to do something about it.

  CHAPTER 4

  Delilah

  “Delilah,” he says, standing up from his position against the side of the building.

  The baritone notes of my name leave his lips as smooth as leather, yet with a firmness edged in steel.

  The sound of my name is firm, but warm, and it cloaks me like a blanket, making me immediately feel warm and protected.

  “I’m sorry about what happened when you were…protecting me.”

  “Delilah, please,” he says. His words are tense as his hand reaches out to my arm to comfort me.

  When his fingers find the cotton fabric covering my forearm I swear the spark is enough to light my clothes on fire, which is all that I want right now.

  It’s a cool night in S.F., but the way he’s got me feeling has a cool beads of sweat forming in the valley between my breasts.

  And it’s not the only place I’m wet.

  As his fingers tease over my arm a whimper escapes me.

  I’ve never been so moist in my entire life. The way his eyes look at me in the night…the reflection from the moon and the streetlights cutting perpendicularly through them…all I can think about is him tearing my clothes off and ramming his cock into me so deep that I ride his pole all the way up the steps to his penthouse as he takes me and makes me his until the sun rises over the Golden Gate.

  “Where have you been my whole…these last few years?”

  “I was away. Studying.”

  “I know that, but I mean…”

  His words hang just as long as his gaze and even though my eyes stay locked on his I can see his stiffness begging to be freed from his pants. This big, strong, powerful man is hard as a rock because of me. I did that. Now I want him to do things to me I’m too embarrassed to even speak.

  “I got my degree in web design. I’m in the tech world now, just like you.” Suddenly I go from feeling like I’m on top of the world to feeling like an idiot. I’m a new college graduate and he’s a billionaire revolutionary in our field. To compare me to him would be an insult to everything he’s achieved over a lifetime of work.

  “Just. Like. Me.”

  He says nothing more, just staring at me still. I’ve never had someone maintain such strong or long eye contact with me in my life. I’m not some hot girl that’s intimidating or anything like that…not the type of girl that guys look at and quickly look away once they’re caught. As a matter of fact I usually go unnoticed.

  Maybe it’s my tomboy ways, or the techie way I dress in sweatshirts and New Balance shoes most of the time, but there’s something about me that immediately puts me in the friend zone with guys.

  Not that that has ever been a problem because friendship is all I ever wanted from a guy.

  And he is not a guy. He is so much more. He is a man. The man.

  And I’m not friendzoning myself with him. Not now. Not ever.

  Which is why I specifically wore this white dress tonight and put time into my appearance.

  And the white was strategically chosen. I wanted him to know I was pure…an angel…his angel.

  But he’s saying nothing right now and it’s making me nervous. He very obviously wants me, his body and his eyes are giving him away but there’s also something or somethings that are holding him back.

  His age and his relationship with my dad.

  And it’s then I know I’ve overstepped my bounds.

  Just when I thought I was an adult and all grown up and ready to show him, he shows me the internal struggle going on inside him. And he does it by saying nothing at all.

  His body language speaks volumes.

  His relationship with my dad means everything to him. They’re like brothers. I severely underestimated that, blinded by my own wants and desires.

  And now I’ve made a complete fool out of myself.

  “I should go,” I say.

  “Stop,” he says, his grip on my arm tightening.

  I don’t pull away but I watch as his eyelids flicker and his grip loosens slightly. He must have thought he was holding me too tight.

  I don’t think that’s possible, and he would know it’s not either if he knew all the fantasies I’ve had about him…and how much stronger, vibrant, and realistic they’ve become.

  I wake up at night touching myself thinking about him.

  And that’s after lying in bed for hours trying not to think of him. Trying to get him out of my head so I
can focus on anything other than him.

  But it’s impossible, and truth be told I only want to think about him.

  “Have you accepted a position since you’ve gotten back? Who are you working for?”

  “I’ve had a few rounds of interviews at a couple places, but I haven’t been accepted anywhere yet or gotten an offer from my top choices as they’re still narrowing down their candidates.”

  “Let them make that mistake,” he says.

  “Mistake?”

  “Mistake of not hiring you on the spot, like I just did.”

  “You’re…”

  “Yes. You’re mine now…my employee. That’s an antiquated word. Teammate. Or more like partner. I’ve known you forever. I need someone I can trust to hand my business over to. I’ve done what I need to do in this industry. Technology is always about the new, about advancing, about being fresh. That’s you. I can see it in your face, in your hunger, in your passion.”

  I’m not sure if he’s just being nice or misplacing my passion and hunger for him with technology, but either way it’s a nice thing to say. But I’m not so sure I deserve it.

  “But I haven’t even interviewed.”

  “You’ve been interviewing your whole life. The best kind of interview.”

  “Not me. My dad.”

  “Exactly. And I know your dad better than anyone and I know how he raised you. And I know how well you’ve done in school and what you’ve studied…all of that. And I know there’s no one better to become my partner, than you. You’re perfect.”

  “Your…business partner?”

  “When you’re handing over your baby, something you’ve grown from an idea into your entire life, it’s more than just business. It’s personal,” he says taking a step closer to me.

  My breath catches and my heart rate kicks up even a notch higher.

  The way he’s hovering over me. The sound of his voice. His long, thick fingers on my forearm.

  I swear I could climax right here and now if I’m not careful.

  “Do you accept?” he says.

  “I..”

  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  I raise my palms, or at least I do on one hand. The grip he has on my other forearm is firmer than I though and I can only think of him holding me down and taking exactly what he wants from me.

  And it’s not my resume.

  Which would be just as empty in the bedroom as it would be in the boardroom.

  A man like this could date actresses, models, powerful women of business…anyone he wants.

  Why would a twenty-year-old virgin appeal to him? What could I do to please him that a more experienced woman couldn’t?

  “Do you have an online portfolio? You must if you’re interviewing.”

  “I do,” I say.

  “Let’s take a look. Let’s get started now.”

  “I can show you on my phone,” I say digging my free hand into my pocket.

  “Not your phone,” he says. His eyes wander from left to right across the night sky.

  “It’s still my birthday, even though my party turned out to have a different, and bigger, surprise than planned.”

  “My wish now is for you to show me what you can do in high-def.”

  “My screen resolution is pretty good,” I say.

  “We’ll play it on my projection screen and look at it in images that are bigger than we are. I’ll open the roof up and we can have a drink…non-alcoholic of course. I’m not a drinker myself to be honest, but of course I took that shot in celebration as is custom for a gracious guest.”

  “I’m not much of a drinker either.”

  “I know. Two of a kind. Remember?”

  “Mister Damm, we asked you to leave over thirty minutes ago. You agreed, yet you’re still here,” a uniformed officer says, appearing out of nowhere.

  “I left the establishment and haven’t been back inside. But I do live just upstairs.”

  The officer smiles. “Don’t you have houses all over the city, or the world for that matter? As much as I enjoyed you teaching that family a bit of a lesson, and that’s between you and me, it’s best not to antagonize them. They did call us behind your back after all. No telling what crazy people like that might do.”

  “You’re right, officer,” he says. “You’re absolutely right. I appreciate it and we were just going.”

  He motions to the door just to the side and I take a step towards it. He opens the door for me and we walk into the building together.

  And I walk through a door that I know will change my life forever, no matter what does or doesn’t happen between us.

  CHAPTER 5

  Damian

  “You can sit there,” I say pointing to my plush, leather office chair behind my oak desk.

  I move towards the all-in-one remote, but as she steps toward the chair I look back, catching a glimpse of her ass knowing that will be mine…along with every other piece of her.

  But it’s not just her body I want. I want it all. Her mind, her heart, and her soul.

  Because damn that’s exactly what she’s getting from me right now.

  I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust I want her so bad.

  This is like one of those cheesy movies I’ve overheard some of my employees talking about at the water cooler on a Monday morning. The kinds of movies and books some of the women who work for my company are addicted to.

  As much as I value their work, and with each year I swear the smartest and hungriest workers are more and more often becoming women, there was always something inside me that wondered what in the heck they were thinking.

  Why do they watch movies like that? Why do they read books like that?

  And it made even less sense with the ones I knew to be married.

  Well…now I know. It’s not a logical thought. It’s not like me who in the few free moments I have each month I usually try and invest in something educational like a tech article or even NatGeo or Animal Planet.

  It’s nothing like that. It’s emotional.

  And now I realize all these computers, and codes, and ways to save our lives a second there and a minute there are just that.

  Heartless pieces of metal.

  Using technology like a helicopter to avoid rush hour traffic provides a certain kind of benefit and joy.

  But nothing can compare to the joy and pleasure of another human being, no matter how many hours or even days you have to sit in traffic just to reach them.

  And not just any human being.

  The one who finally makes everything make sense.

  It’s that missing puzzle piece when you thought you’d already finished putting the puzzle together years ago.

  I felt like I completed the puzzle that is the game of life a long time ago. I won in complete and utter domination.

  But if I was to look at that imaginary puzzle now I would see that the center piece is completely missing. My mind simply filled it in as the other nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces were there.

  But the most important one wasn’t.

  Until now.

  I flip off the lights and flip on the projector with the remote.

  “What’s the website address?” I ask.

  “DelilahsDeliciousDevelopment.com,” she says.

  I practically swallow my tongue.

  “Development or web development?”

  “I preferred the alliteration so I left off the web part,” she says.

  Why does she make it so hard for me not to focus on her body right now talking about development and the way her curves are illuminated from above?

  “I thought you studied design?”

  “I did.”

  “Then why development?”

  “I started in web development, but realized that coding wasn’t for me. I like it, but that’s what you do. I figured if you did coding and I did design then it would be the perfect…”

  I freeze. I feel the remote almost slide from my loose grasp
before my fingers close around it again.