Her Dad’s Best Friend

Chapter 4

I’m so wet that I think that I’ve soaked through my panties and onto my skirt. Just smelling his scent

makes me wet. He doesn’t even have to be here.

I can never tell him that I want him to shove me face-down on his desk, tie my hands with his tie, and

fuck me until my mind explodes into a thousand pieces. He’ll tell my dad that I was inappropriate at

work, and then I’ll get yelled at. I don’t want to be cut off. Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

My eyebrows are raised. She was afraid of me telling her dad how she felt? Not a chance in hell, not if I

wanted to keep my balls. He’d show up at my office with a shotgun in a heartbeat.

She felt the same way. My mind ran through the possibilities.

She shouldn’t worry about being cut off. I can provide for her as easily as her father can. Better, even,

since I’d never make her work just for the sake of working.

Maybe I should plan a surprise for when she comes back with my coffee.

Coffee

Camilla

The coffee is almost too hot to handle. I know that the cup’s material is supposed to insulate it, but it’s

almost hot enough to scorch my hand. I was in such a hurry to get back that I forgot to get coffee

collars. I don’t want to go back and get some. I hope Lincoln doesn’t yell at me for forgetting.

No, that’s dumb. He doesn’t yell at me for stupid stuff. He’s demanding and expects perfection, but he’d

never yell at me for forgetting a coffee collar for his cup. He’s pretty fair.

He comes down like the wrath of God when he’s provoked, though. One of the financial analysts forgot

to send him a sales report before a meeting once, and I listened when he ripped the analyst a new one.

I’d been so turned on that after I listened to the fury in his voice, I’d gone to the bathroom and taken

care of myself. He never let people forget who was in charge.

I am quickly forgetting how hot the coffee I’m holding is. I hit the elevator button for the top floor with my

elbow. Three more days of working as his assistant, and then all of this will be over.

It’ll be a relief, but I’m also afraid that I’ll regret not making a move on him when I had the chance. He

probably sees me as nothing more than a little girl, but I’ve had a crush on him forever. My dad snores,

but he doesn’t. I know, since I’ve slept so close to him in the mountains time and time again.

My hands tighten a little on the coffee cups, but then the heat makes me loosen my grip.

Three more days.

When I get back to our corner of the office, I see that his door is open. I walk into his office and see him

staring at his computer screen.

“I brought your coffee, sir.” I never called him sir before I came to work for him, but it seems respectful.

Polite. It creates a good employee-boss relationship.

“Camilla, stay in here for a moment, please.” It’s not a question. I put both coffee cups down on his

desk.

“The grande one is for you.” I only have a decaf tall latte, because it’s afternoon and I’ll be up until

midnight if I drink caffeinated anything right now.

“Could you close the door?”

My heart jumps at a request so close to yesterday’s fantasy, but I’m being dumb. He’s just asking me to

close a door, not to get naked and sweaty with him. I curse my brain for giving me a full-color visual of

what that would be like, my soft body beneath his hard one. We’ve gone swimming in lakes. I know that

he has tight, hard muscles and washboard abs. He definitely doesn’t look like your average pencil

pusher.

“Sure thing.”

I stand up and close the door. I hear the small thud.

“And lock it.”

My heart starts beating so fast and hard that I can hear it in my ears.

“Lock it?” I turn to him with a little panic in my eyes. I have no idea what’s going on.

“Lock it,” he

repeats. I know that he’s waiting for me to do it. With an audible gulp, I turn the lock.