Page 78 of Her Possessive Daddies

My phone is going crazy today. This time it's Corey. Probably wants to discuss the clusterfuck from dinner. Haven't talked to him since I admitted to feeling up his girl. Some friend I am.

The concrete dust settles on my boots as I pace the site. Twenty years of friendship, and here we are lusting after the same woman. But those few minutes with her... the hot moaning sound she made when I pushed her against the wall, her fingers clawing at my shoulders…

"Boss? These measurements ain't matching up."

I scrub a hand over my face, feeling the rough scratch of my beard. "Let me see those."

Focus. I need to focus. But all I’m able to think about is Abbie, and how perfectly she fit against me, and how royally fucked up this whole situation is.

"Taking five," I call out to Jim, ducking into my site office trailer.

The air conditioning hits my sweat-soaked shirt as I sink into my chair. What the fuck is wrong with me? I've had my share of women, but none of them got to me like this. One taste of her and I'm acting like some obsessed buffoon.

Her taste, her scent, hits me between the eyes, and I adjust myself to disguise the tension building in my groin. The way she trembled when we touched, how her eyes went dark with need…

"Fuck." I pound my hands on the desk.

This isn't just lust. I want to know what makes her laugh, what she dreams about. Want to hear her thoughts on everything and nothing. Want to protect her from assholes like Chandler who didn't appreciate what they had.

The worst part? I barely know her. One dinner, five minutes in a hallway, and she's crawled under my skin like a fever I can't shake. I’ve never felt this intense pull before, this overwhelming need to be near someone.

Guilt twists in my gut. My best friend. My godson's father. And here I am, obsessing over his girl like some kind of snake.

But those eyes of hers... That shy smile when she caught me staring across the table... The little whimper she made when I slid my fingers…

"Boss! Got a situation out here!"

I drag myself up, adjusting my hard hat. Time to get my head straight. But even as I step back into the sunlight, my thoughts are consumed by her.

My phone vibrates against my hip, the familiar buzz cutting through the construction site noise. Corey's name flashes on the screen, probably the tenth time today.

"Hell, you're persistent today. Yeah?" I duck behind a stack of lumber, trying to find some quiet from the jackhammering nearby.

"Need a favor." His voice sounds rough, tired, like he hasn't slept in days. "Abbie's back at work tonight." Just hearing her name sends a pang of desire through me.

I grip the phone tighter. "And?"

"Could you go talk to her? Apologize for everything. See if she'd meet with all of us?" The desperation in his voice is clear, even through the static of the connection.

My pulse races at the thought of seeing her again, remembering how she looked the last time I saw her - tears streaming down her face as she ran out. "Why can't you do it yourself?"

"She doesn’t want to see me." He sighs, and I can picture him running his hand through his hair like he always does when he's stressed. "After everything with Chandler... I'm probably the last person she wants to face. I'm not sure what she thinks of me right now." The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between us.

I fumble with the keys for my truck, watching the crew pack up for the day. "So you want me to be your damn messenger boy?"

"You're the only one she might listen to. Please, Don."

The memory of her pressed against me in that hallway floods back. Her soft gasps, the way she melted into my touch. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Because I want her for myself. Because every time I close my eyes, I see her face. Because the guilt of wanting this woman is eating me alive.

"Just... complicated."

"Everything's complicated right now." Another heavy sigh. "Will you please do it?"

I scrub a hand over my face. "Yeah. Fine. I'll go."

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