Claimed By Her Best Friend's Dad

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Claimed By Her Best Friend's Dad Page 3

by Flora Ferrari


  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jamie

  “What the fuck am I doing?” I growl at my reflection.

  I stand in my personal gym in the Alignment Industries tower, staring at the grizzled bastard in the mirror. My jaw is tight and my eyes are hard, the same no-bullshit expression I’ve mastered for decades of business meetings.

  But I can’t deny the way my heart pounds in my chest, a heavy drumming that hasn’t stopped since I had dinner with Yasmin and Jade a few nights ago.

  Ever since then, Jade’s luxurious curves and her cute-as-fuck smile haven’t left me alone. Every time I close my eyes, she’s there, sitting at the dinner table with her breasts just roaring at me to grab and please them.

  I loved watching her eat that steak, adding to those healthy and mind-numbing curves, my manhood throbbing under the table as she dabbed at the droplets sliding down her chin.

  I imagined that it was my seed instead, sliding down.

  I shake my head and wander around the gym, checking the boxing gloves and the pads, checking that all the water bottles are filled, checking all the mundane things to try and distract myself from the fact that every single instinct inside of me is roaring at me to take this woman and drill into her.

  Hard.

  Over and over, take her until she’s gasping and begging me to keep going, begging me never to stop.

  I turn when there’s a timid knock at the door.

  “Yes?” I call.

  “It’s me.”

  Right away, my manhood shudders and twitches in my shorts. I glance down and see that I’m as rock hard as I feel, a solid cord of tension moving up and down my massive length.

  I should’ve worn tighter boxers.

  Goddamn, she’s going to be able to see this.

  I reach into my shorts and adjust myself, stroking my hand up my hot length and moving it to the side.

  “Come in,” I say, moving over to the door.

  She pushes it open and my manhood gives another angry pulse, as though it wants to roar at me to claim her right fucking now.

  She’s wearing gray sweatpants and a tank top that shows the pink of her bra through the material, her curvy body drawing my eye inexorably, the way her hips lilt down to her thighs, those thighs that deserve to be grabbed and kissed and bitten and indulged for hours on fucking end.

  I need to calm down.

  Fast.

  I’m breathing like a demon about to burst out of hell.

  I’m breathing like a bear.

  I’m ready to throw her into the boxing ring and lay her on her back, tear those sweatpants off and taste the sweet nectar of her sex.

  “Am I early?” she asks, walking slowly into the room.

  “No,” I tell her. “Come on. Let’s get started.”

  I turn away, hoping that by banishing her from my vision maybe I can get rid of all these roaring impulses, too. But that’s a fool’s game where Jade is concerned. Even as I walk over to the boxing gloves and pads, my heart is thundering in my chest and my seed is roaring at me to take her.

  I turn back, clenching my jaw so hard it almost hurts, the tension rioting through me only adding to the tightness.

  “Let’s stretch first,” I say, watching as she walks tentatively toward me.

  With each movement, her hips sway from side to side and her breasts bob and dance appealingly. It’s like a personal show just for me, her tank top hugging onto those juicy mounds and making my manhood so hard it feels like it could burst.

  “Okay,” she says, looking around the gym and then letting her gaze settle on me.

  Her scent is overwhelming this close.

  She’s not wearing perfume, but there’s her shampoo and her just-Jade scent, like her body, is sending me urgent signals that I need to impregnate her right now, right this second. I feel like a predator ten thousand years ago with his mate insight, and if I don’t put my child inside her this dangerous world might collapse upon us and it’ll be too late.

  “Okay, start by rolling your shoulders,” I say, having to fight off the urge to smirk.

  Rolling her shoulders will make those breasts bounce so damn juicily for me, I know. And when they bounce and shift for me, I can let my mind go to hot-as-fuck places. I can imagine that my slick cock is gliding between the mounds of her breasts, pulsing, pumping …

  Calm. The fuck. Down.

  I show her how it’s done, slowly rotating my arms in circles. She bites her lip as those big emerald eyes move over me. Her hair is tied into a ponytail and her makeup-less face is pricked with red, with two spots of it on her cheeks, as though she’s nervous and horny and excited and a thousand other feelings all at once.

  I’m stunned by how badly I want to understand this woman’s emotions, especially since I’ve steered clear from women ever since Yasmin’s mother.

  No woman has ever had this kind of effect on me.

  No woman has ever grabbed me like Jade does.

  She’s one of a kind.

  “Like this?” she asks, moving her shoulders in an imitation of me.

  I stare hard at her breasts, watching as they shift up and down in that torturously tight tank top. She keeps biting her lip, making me want to pry open those sweet lips with the engorged helm of my cock and push in, deeper and deeper each moment, listening to her muffled groans and moans of pleasure.

  My manhood gives another twinge and I bite down, growling silently at myself to focus.

  “That’s right,” I say, voice hoarse with the difficulty of taming the beast she’s awakening inside of me. “Now just copy me.”

  I lead her through a series of basic stretches, finding it impossible to take my eyes off her, especially when I tell her to bend over and try to touch her toes.

  She’s game enough and leans down, but she stops halfway, letting out a soft moaning noise. The sound makes me want to grab my cock at the base and squeeze it hard, stroke the precome up and down my shaft until I’m good and slick for her.

  Her moan is like music.

  I stare at the round picture of her ass, the way it pushes against the fabric of her sweat pants. Her thighs are thick and downright beautiful, big juicy legs that are just begging for me to squeeze and bury my hands in. Everything about her is so full, so perfect for fucking and for childbearing.

  She stands up and turns to me quickly. The crimson in her face has taken on a different quality, her whole body shaking as her wide eyes glare at me.

  “Are you trying to humiliate me?” she snaps.

  “What?” I say, my voice just as fierce, fueled by rage and want and need and her. Everything about her intoxicates me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Does it look like I can touch my toes?”

  I stalk closer to her until I’m standing over her and staring down. Something about the sassiness in her tone makes me want to fist that dark ponytail and forcibly guide her lips to mine.

  “I didn’t say you had to,” I growl. “I said try.”

  “Well, look at me,” she hisses.

  I take a step back and move my gaze up and down her body, not even bothering to hide the desire roaring through me now. I devour the sight of her, a chorus rising in my ears, a deafening chorus I can’t ignore.

  It’s those juicy breasts. It’s the pout on her lips. It’s the flare in her eyes.

  It’s those hips, made for bringing children into this world.

  Everything about this nineteen year old firecracker has got me fucked up in a hundred different ways.

  “I’m looking,” I growl. “Now what?”

  She tilts her head, sassiness warring with nervousness, a gorgeous contradiction I could study for hours.

  “You know what?” she snaps. “I think this was a bad idea. I don’t know what I was thinking, actually.”

  She turns and strides toward the door, shaking her head. I will myself to watch her go, to not give a damn. But there’s something in the heartache of her words that has me feeling … human, almost guilty, ev
en if I’ve got no clue why she’s suddenly storming out like this.

  “Jade, wait,” I say firmly, in a tone of voice that offers no chance for argument.

  She stops at the door with a sigh and then turns slowly.

  “What?” she says.

  “You need to explain why you’re throwing a hissy fit before we’ve even started,” I snarl. “That’s what.”

  Her mouth falls open in a way that makes me want to put something in it, over and over again, until she’s spitting and coughing all over my massive thick pole.

  She stares hard and then takes several steps forward.

  Her eyes flit to my manhood for a moment. I don’t turn away or try and hide the throbbing length of my cock from her. I want her to see it, I realize, even if it’s the last thing I should be doing.

  I try to think of Yasmin’s reaction if she ever found out, but thinking of my daughter is impossible right now.

  All that exists for me is Jade, my woman, the future mother of my children, just fucking mine.

  “So you look at me and see no problem in asking me to do something athletic? Jesus, Jamie, do I really have to spell it out for you?”

  I stare at her, wondering just what the hell she’s going on about.

  All I know is that being this close to her – with the winter snowdrop whirling world outside seeming a million miles away – has made me feel more alive than I have since I stepped in the MMA cage for the first time.

  “I guess you’ll have to,” I snarl. “Because I’ve got no damn clue what you’re talking about.”

  She sighs shakily and then folds her arms, causing those breasts to push together alluringly.

  “I’m f—”

  I’m fat.

  No fucking way is she allowed to say that.

  Something in me snaps, a primal chord shattering and blaring loudly through me.

  I surge forward when I realize what she’s about to say.

  I grab her by the shoulders and shove her up against the wall, my chest heaving as rage thuds through me, as every muscle in my body tightens to breaking point.

  I lean close to her, studying the dancing uncertainty in her eyes, as though she’s only just now realizing what sort of beast I am.

  I can feel her breath on me, hot and filled with her tempting scent.

  “Never fucking say that,” I snarl. “Never. Do you understand? Your body is curvy and plus size and sexy as fuck. Your body is the sort men would fight wars over in the old days. Your tits are large and your hips are round and your ass is big, fine, but big isn’t bad. With you, Jade, big is fucking perfect. And it’s a dangerous game, putting yourself down with me around because I might just have to show you how wrong you are.”

  Her breath comes quickly, panting gulps as her eyes widen and she realizes just what sort of man she’s dealing with.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jade

  Being a writer means that I live most of my life inside my own head, fanciful worlds sprouting and populating my consciousness every second of every day.

  So for the first few moments that Jamie has me pushed up against the wall – his manly musk washing over me, his hands gripping my shoulders possessively – I’m almost certain it’s some sort of hyperreal fever dream.

  I let out a shaky breath, his words hammering into me.

  He called me beautiful. He called me sexy.

  I whisper the realization in my mind, trying to convince myself it’s real.

  And at the same time, a part of me would like nothing more than for it to fade away into unreality because the last freaking thing I should be doing is staring into this man’s eyes with bare inches separating us.

  “Tell me to let go,” he snarls, moving even closer, his breath whispering over my lips and cheeks. “Tell me you want me to stop. Go on, Jade. Lie to me.”

  I open my mouth with no idea what I’m going to say.

  I know what I should say.

  “Mr. Jensen, this is very inappropriate. I was under the impression I was here for a self-defense class, and now you’ve put me in an extremely awkward situation. Will you please let me go immediately before I scream?”

  But of course, that would be a downright lie.

  I don’t want him to let me go.

  Ever.

  “Is this a joke?” I whisper, my voice sounding far away and ghostly.

  “A joke?” he growls. “What do you mean?”

  I slide sideways, not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed when he lets me pace over to the boxing ring. I grip the bottom rope and let out a shaky sigh, letting my gaze move over the stacked dumbbells on the other side of the room, and then over to the small square window that shows a snowy snapshot of the city.

  I sense Jamie moving up behind me, but I don’t hear him. He moves astoundingly quietly for a man who’s at least six and a half feet, probably closer to six and three quarters.

  “Look at me, Jade,” he growls, his voice that of a warrior who’s conquered the village and is now ready to claim his prize.

  I turn shakily, heart pounding up into my throat, all through my body.

  My mind plays a hyper-fast reel of all the moments Yasmin and I have shared over the years, first when she was my writing mentor, and then later when we lived together.

  I feel her arms wrapped around me as I cried myself into a wreck after Dad’s accident.

  I feel her hand on mine, giving me a supportive squeeze when I received yet another rejection letter from yet another publisher.

  It’s like it’s all superimposed onto this moment as I turn to face him, this man who shouldn’t be looking at me like that, with a spark of feral ownership in his eyes.

  “What?” I whisper.

  His jaw goes somehow tighter. His body looks as though it could go full on werewolf any second, his pectorals heaving in his tight gym T-shirt, and his manhood …

  My sex gives a flurry every time I glance at it, which I’ve tried not to do since I first noticed just how freaking huge he is.

  Because thinking about how big he is sends my body into a panicked overdrive, my heart beating so heavily it’s like a giant is slamming his fist against my body.

  “I’d never trick you,” he growls. “I’d never even dream of it. I don’t know how to explain this—”

  A heavy knock interrupts us, three distinctive thuds that seem to reverberate far too loudly around the room.

  For a few crazed seconds, I’m convinced that it’s Yasmin, that somehow she knows what we’ve been doing in here and now she’s going to march in and punish us for daring to cross that line. I imagine her with her camera raised, ready to broadcast our betrayal to her hundreds of thousands of followers.

  “Yes?” Jamie snarls, voice trembling at the interruption.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” a deep-voiced man says. “There’s been an incident.”

  “Come in, Graham, dammit,” Jamie sighs, taking a step back and leaving me to mentally finish his declaration in a thousand different ways.

  I don’t know how to explain this urge I have to be inside of you, right now, to take you until you shake and shiver for me.

  Fine, it could be that.

  But couldn’t it also be that he doesn’t know how to explain why he just told me a bunch of bullshit, why he just got carried away and now he’d like for me to forget that we ever had any sort of intimacy, however brief, however surreal?

  The door opens and an older man comes in, probably around sixty, with horn rimmed glasses. He glances over at me, shifting from foot to foot, and then turns back to Jamie with a look that roars, We can’t talk about this in front of her.

  “It’s fine,” Jamie says, reading the look. “Jade can be trusted.”

  I almost gasp, the declaration is so sudden. And then I feel the warmth rising from deep within me, as though my womb is whispering that it’s good, it’s right, that this man trusts me. The thought is so ridiculous, and yet it persists, a warm whisper that won’t go away.

 
Graham sighs. “We’ve had a call from Japan. One of the businesses that have installed our security equipment is claiming that we’ve been using it to spy on them. It’s all nonsense, of course, but he’s saying he wants to speak to you and you alone. I thought you’d want to know since you were just there—”

  “Yes, you were right to come to me,” Jamie says. “Just give me a minute.”

  Graham nods and then recedes, closing the door behind him.

  Jamie turns to me with his lips turned into a pensive frown, his eyes filled with so much that I could spend days deciphering all the different meanings within him.

  “I have to go,” he says. “And by the sounds of it, this is going to take all damn day. There’s always somebody trying to get a free handout, trying to work some scam, some angle, but …”

  “It’s okay,” I say, but really it’s like I hear myself say it. And then I’m watching myself move forward and place my hand on his shoulder. I squeeze, feeling his stony muscles, feeling the irrepressible solidness of his flesh. “I bet it can be hard sometimes. Isolating.”

  “Yeah,” he says. He smirks for a moment, eyes dancing over me. “Mostly I’m pissed our session was interrupted. You’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll do it properly. Be here at two … I have an hour free then. Okay?”

  He moves away from me, turning for the door, giving me a view of his broad back in the tight fitting T-shirt. I can see the bands of his muscles moving across his flesh, as though he could snap me in half if he had the mind to.

  My womb sizzles and my sex tingles at the thought of running my fingernails down that back.

  “That didn’t sound like a question,” I call.

  “What?” he says, half-turning.

  I offer him my feistiest smile, summoning it from deep within, sharp enough that it can penetrate my nerves and my self-consciousness and all the rest of it.

  “You said okay, and I know it was supposed to be a question, but it didn’t sound like one. It sounded like you were telling me what to do. What if I have a problem with that, Jamie? What if I don’t want to jump when you say jump, hmm?”

  “Are you sassing me?” he says, voice brimming with deep and growling wonder.

 

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