Page 5 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

“It’s Maci,” Kayla says, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t give you too much crap about that. I’m pretty sure you’ve been at work every time she’s come over in the past, what, few years, maybe? I know you’ve been busy.”

“Maci,” I say, nodding. “I know. I remember. I was just testing you.”

She laughs, making all this hard work worthwhile. There were times when I thought she was going to fall under her mother’s spell, and her mother might even try to get our baby addicted to the same filth as she was.

“Have you had breakfast?” she asks.

“Not yet.”

“Just give me a chance to get dressed, and I’ll whip up something to eat.” She gestures down at her PJs that she must have worn to the store.

“Great. I’ll shower real quick.”

She goes into the house. I wrap my towel tightly around myself and walk to the sauna room, quickly showering and changing into fresh house clothes. We’ve got no staff out here, nobody to disturb us. It’s one reason I didn’t know Kayla was here. They would’ve told me. Now that she is here, I wonder if I should call my security detail. Sometimes, it’s good to pretend we’re a normal family.

When I walk into the kitchen, I pause, staring at the woman sitting at the counter. What the hell? Kayla said it was just her and her friend here, right? Is this Maci? The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen sits at the counter. She’s wearing a tank top that shows the outline of her bra underneath like she’s tempting me to tear away the fabric and reveal her curviness. Her body is so full and thick. Her hair is long and brown, wavy, and messy from sleep. I want to run my hand through it. I need to. My heart is pounding.

Her shorts show her bare, curvy legs. I clench my fist, imagining I’m squeezing onto her body instead, imagining the sound of desire she’d make.

“Hi, Mr. Larson,” she says.

“Uh… hi.” I look around the room like I’m searching for an escape.

“Kayla’s just freshening up.”

“Right.”

I walk to the coffee machine, wondering why Maci’s cheeks are so flushed. She looks like she’s burning up. “Coffee?” I ask.

“No, thanks. I already had one.”

“Right.”

I sound so stilted, so awkward. I’m not usually like this. I can generally make small talk with anybody, no matter the circumstances. It’s one of the skills a CEO needs to have. As I put the pod in the machine, I’m sure I can feel Maci watching me.

“Nice swim?” she asks after a pause, her voice anxious. Maybe she finds the silence awkward.

I turn back to her. She immediately looks down at the table.

“How did you know I was swimming?” I ask, a suspicion tickling at the edge of my mind. I’m not wearing any swim gear.

“Your hair’s wet,” she mutters.

Somehow, I know she’s lying. My hair is slightly wet, but she’s hiding something. Did she see me when I climbed out to practice my diving one last time? That would explain the sexy-as-hell redness in her cheeks. Damn, what’s wrong with me? I want to tear off her shirt, free those big round tits, rub her nipples, make her wet, make her mine.

“Dad.” Kayla walks into the room. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re making your own coffee!”

Ah, she’s joking. For a terrifying second, I thought she somehow knew what thoughts were flurrying through my crazy mind. I try my best to laugh along with her. “Do you want one?” I ask.

“Now this is getting suspicious,” she teases. “No, I’m okay. Why don’t you sit down while I get started on breakfast?”

I sit at the kitchen bar right next to Maci. I don’t realize my mistake until my leg brushes up against her. I’m wearing shorts too—something casual for the house, but now I’m rethinking my decision—and I feel the heat of her skin. I swear, she makes a slight whimpering noise. Maybe that’s my imagination. Perhaps that’s the hunger in me. I feel drunk.

Maci blows on her coffee, pursing her lips. It’s so easy to imagine her leaning in for a kiss. Or sitting on the edge of a bed, looking up at me with those wide, innocent eyes as I bring the bulging head of my rod to her mouth. She’ll moan as I slip my shaft between her lips, claiming her mouth, owning her—every damn inch. I want to grab her leg. Spank her leg and watch her juiciness ripple for me.

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