CRAVING DADDY'S BEST FRIEND

Chapter Four: The Edge Of Exposure

Chapter Four: The Edge of Exposure

Abigail Macron

The sound of my father’s loafers clicking against the stone tiles of the veranda was the countdown to an explosion.

Caleb pulled back with impossible speed. One second his heavy hand was tangled in my hair, his thumb rough against my smeared lipstick; the next, he was standing three feet away, picking up his Scotch glass. The sudden absence of his warmth left me shivering.

The French doors swung open. David Macron stepped back into the study, tucking his phone into his pocket, completely oblivious to the fact that the air was practically vibrating.

"Well, the compliance team is dragging their feet," my father sighed, dropping heavily into his executive chair. He didn't look up from the legal documents. "They’re worried about the liability clauses. Caleb, what do you think? Restructure or force their hand?"

Caleb took a slow swallow of his drink. When he faced my father, his ruthless corporate mask was flawlessly back in place. "We force their hand, David. If we show weakness now, they’ll bleed us through the nose."

"True. Always the predator, aren't you?" My father chuckled. "Alright, give me twenty minutes to get the framework down."

"Take your time," Caleb murmured. His dark eyes flicked toward me for a fraction of a second, carrying a warning so hot it felt like a physical touch. "I’m going to step out to make a quick call."

He was fleeing before the gravity of what was happening pulled him under completely.

I waited exactly one minute, watching the top of my father’s silver head as he began typing furiously. He didn't even notice when I stood up, smoothing down my skimpy flair skirt.

"Dad? I'm going to grab a glass of water from the kitchen."

"Sure, sweetheart. Don't stay up too late."

I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. I didn't head toward the kitchen. Instead, I followed the faint scent of leather and smoky cologne into the dark, recessed alcove near the back parlor.

I found him standing in the shadows, his phone pressed to his ear, staring blankly out the window. The moment my heels clicked against the marble, he slid the phone into his pocket. He didn't turn around.

"You should be in bed, Abigail," he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "I told you what would happen if you kept pushing me."

"I don't care, Caleb," I whispered, stepping into the narrow space with him. I pressed myself right against the back of his charcoal suit jacket. "I don't want to be safe anymore."

Caleb spun around, grabbed my upper arms, and slammed me gently but firmly against the wall. His massive frame completely trapped me in the shadows.

"Do you think this is a game?" he hissed, his face inches from mine, his hot breath smelling of expensive Scotch. "You think you can play the temptress and walk away unscathed? You have no idea what I’ve been doing to keep my hands off you for the last two years, Abby. I have been burning in hell."

"Then let’s burn together," I whimpered, gripping his lapels. "I'm begging you."

A low, guttural growl tore from his throat.

“You will regret this kiddo.”

“I will not,” I reiterated, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day? Do you know how long I've been crushing on you?”

“It’s inappropriate darling,” he patted my hair softly. “You are my best friend’s daughter… You're like my child.

“I’m not your child, Caleb!!” My voice broke in frustration. If I were your child I wouldn’t be touching myself and moaning your name every night, imagining it was your fingers. I wouldn’t be…”

The last of his legendary control collapsed. His mouth descended on mine with a bruising, desperate hunger. It was a brutal, possessive claim, parting my lips with an intensity that took the air right out of my lungs.

I groaned into his mouth, my arms flying around his neck, pulling him closer to erase the twenty-year gap between us. Caleb’s massive palm slid down my spine, lifting me slightly to crush my hips against his. The rigid line of his desire pressed hard against my lower stomach.

His other hand slid up under my skirt. His thumb found my pulsing c**t, slick with the immediate wetness pouring from me. He dipped his index finger deep into my p***y, and I moaned loudly into his throat.

He tore his mouth away for a split second, burying his face in my neck, his teeth nipping at my collarbone.

“f**k, Abby, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling his finger out to lick my fluids directly from his skin. He glared down at me, his eyes dark and wild. “Tell me, are you a virgin? Has anyone ever f****d you before?”

“Will it change anything?” I gasped.

I dragged his head back down to continue kissing him, but he withdrew, staring at me with a look of pure torment. "God, Abby... you’re going to destroy me. If David finds out..."

"No one is looking," I panted, loosening his silk tie. "Just touch me, Caleb. Please. Ruin me."

His large hand moved to my throat, his fingers hooking into the neckline of my silk camisole, ripping the fabric down to expose my bare breast to the darkness. The contrast of his rough hand against my skin made my knees go weak. I clung to his broad shoulders, my head rolling back against the wall.

"Abby?"

The voice echoed from the far end of the hallway, sharp and clear. It was Jasmine.

Caleb froze instantly, his entire body turning to steel.

"Abby, are you down there?" Jasmine’s footsteps clicked against the marble, moving closer to the alcove. "Your dad said you went to get water, but you’ve been gone forever."

Caleb looked down at his hand gripping my torn top, then at my swollen, lipstick-smeared mouth. A flash of pure, suffocating guilt crossed his features.

He stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides as he drew in a sharp, ragged breath, desperately forcing the predator back into its cage before the door opened on our secret