Page 25 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

“Honest opinion?”

“You think I should calm down and take it slow.”

I nod. “I’m not saying he’s not the man of your dreams. I’m not saying he’s not going to change your life. I’m not saying you won’t get married one day. Let’s say that’s all true. Taking things a bit slower won’t change any of that.” I hope this is more tame than the advice I gave her at dinner.

“You’re right. Thanks, Maci.”

She leaves the bedroom. I turn off all the lights and bury my head in the pillow, making my world as dark as possible. I’m determined to fall into a deep, restful sleep. The issue is, I don’t think determination has ever made somebody fall into a peaceful sleep.

I toss. I turn. I wage a war with the sheets, which are intent on wrapping uncomfortably around my body. Sweat clings to me. I check the clock—one a.m. I check it again—one-thirty. Soon, it’s three, and I haven’t slept at all. I’ve got a tired feeling draped over my body, but my mind is too active. My thoughts rush to the pool, the coldness at dinner, and the impossibility.

When the floorboard creaks outside my bedroom door, I sit up, my heart pounding as a familiar yet new tingle dances up my legs. The creak passes, and then it returns. Maybe it’s my overactive imagination, but somehow, I’m sure it’s Lukas. It might be because the footsteps sound heavy.

Standing, I sneak across the room and place my ear against the door. I can hear breathing—heavy, manly, deep. I open the door slowly to find Lukas standing in a pool of moonlight, turning his hair almost blue, his eyes gleaming. He’s wearing nothing but his underwear, his chest rising and falling dramatically. It’s like he’s been standing out here struggling to hold himself back and not leap in here to claim me.

Snatching his wrist, I drag him inside and close the door before Kayla sees.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, but I can’t stop from smiling. I don’t have to try this time. The smile spreads across my lips, my body gleaming with light, with lust.

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice husky. “I just… need to be close to you.”

He grabs my hips and pulls me right up against him. His manhood is already hard. My sex is already wet. Our bodies clearly have no doubts about our logic and our loyalty. He groans as he leans down for a kiss. Our lips clash in an explosion of heat, and then he guides me toward the bed.

I put my hand on his chest, meaning to push him away. Instead, I curl my fingers, scraping my nails along his solid muscles, feeling his heart thudding powerfully.

He lays me down with surprising gentleness, especially considering how hungry he is and how close to an explosion. Obviously, he wants to be quiet.

We keep kissing, sinking deeper into the passion. Our tongues clash as we push our bodies closer somehow, every possible inch making contact, the heat bursting between us. Then he leans back, getting some separation to glide his hand up my thigh. I’m wearing PJ shorts, his fingers caressing my bare skin.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he moans.

“Nuh-no,” I whisper. “Sometimes I don’t.”

“Oh, fuck.” He presses down on my sex over the fabric. “You’re soaked already.”

“Thinking about you and you being here…”

He greedily palms me, moving his hand up and down, his eyes glinting in the moonlight as he stares down. There’s something like awe in his expression. It’s as if he’s never seen a sight as hot as me, and he’s never even imagined it.

Then he pushes my loose-fitting shorts aside and strokes his finger around my entrance. The tingles get even more intense, moving deep inside me, telling me to forget about Kayla. Forget it’s the middle of the night. I should scream like we have nothing to be ashamed of or like nothing can ever come between us.

He drives his finger inside slowly, my body aching, his eyes on me the whole time. Deeper, deeper, until he’s all the way in, with his palm pushed against my clit. His body heaves with muscle. His shoulders bulge.

“You’re so tight,” he says in a gravelly voice. “My tight, horny, perfect virgin, but you’ll take my dick. Every inch.”

“I… don’t… know…”

“Why don’t you know?” he growls.

Kayla. Betrayal. “You’re so big.”

He leans down and starts kissing down my PJ tank top, pushing aside the fabric with his mouth, finding my nipple, and sucking. All three pleasure points combine in a flurry that almost sends me sprinting over the edge. He swirls his tongue around my nipple at the same time as he swirls his finger inside me, his palm caressing and heating my clit.

“Your young slit will stretch for me,” he snarls, almost desperately, like he’s trying to hold himself back but knows he can’t. “Your body needs my dick as badly as I need your pussy.”

His words set me on fire with the heat of a taboo I shouldn’t find appealing. It’s like we’ve turned each other into animals. We become wild and hungry just by being close to each other. He fingers me faster, my body making wet noises.

I turn my gaze away.

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