Page 56 of Her Possessive Daddies

"Not tonight." My knuckles whiten on the wheel. "Early meeting tomorrow."

"Bullshit." She turns in her seat. "This is about her, isn't it?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb. I saw how you looked at her. Corey's little bartender."

My jaw clenches. "You're imagining things."

"Really? Because you barely said two words to me after she walked in." Mindy's laugh holds no humor. "God, you're pathetic. She's half your age."

"Goodnight, Mindy."

"Whatever." She throws open the car door. "Don't bother calling."

The slam echoes through the quiet street. I watch her storm up to her door, heels clicking angrily against concrete. She doesn't look back.

I rest my forehead against the wheel, breathing deeply. Abbie's face floats behind my closed eyes - that knowing smile, those bright eyes that saw right through me. The way she fit perfectly against Corey's side.

My best friend. The guy who's had my back through everything.

And here I am, fantasizing about his girl. Twenty years of friendship, and I'm ready to throw it away over one dinner?

But damn, what a dinner. The way she challenged me, matched me word for word. That spark of intelligence behind every response. The curve of her neck when she threw her head back laughing…

"Fuck." I slam my palm against the wheel.

This can't happen. Won't happen. I'll bury these thoughts so deep they'll never see daylight.

But as I pull away from Mindy's curb, all I think about is cherry perfume and knowing smiles.

The drive home stretches endlessly. My cock strains against my jeans, has been since that first glimpse of her at dinner. Her scent, her laugh, those knowing eyes that saw right through me - it all crashes over me in waves.

I barely make it through my front door before my belt hits the floor. The bedroom's too far. The couch will do.

My hand wraps around my shaft, already slick. Fuck, I shouldn't be doing this. These aren't my fantasies to have. But her image floods my mind - those curves in that dress, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled.

I imagine her perched on my lap instead of Corey's. Those wild curls brushing my chest as she leans in close. The feel of her skin under my palms. The sweet scent of her filling my lungs.

The guilt mingles with the pleasure, making it sharper, more intense. My best friend's girl. The one woman I can't have. Shouldn't want.

But I do. God help me, I do.

My release hits hard and fast, Abbie's name a strangled groan. I slump back, spent and ashamed.

This has to stop. Now. Before I do something unforgivable.

But as I head for the shower, her face still floats behind my closed eyes. Sweet and knowing, like she could see every dirty thought I tried to hide.

27

ABBIE

My fingers trace the rim of my coffee mug as memories from last night flood back. The way Donovan's dark eyes kept finding mine across the table, that slight curl of his lip when our gazes met. What the hell is wrong with me? Corey was right there, being perfect as always, and all I could think about was his best friend's forearms flexing as he cut into his steak.

"Earth to Abbie?" Tessa waves her hand in front of my face. "You've been stirring that coffee for five minutes."

"Sorry, just... thinking."

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