Page 7 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

I almost laugh at myself. Not that anything’s funny, but these are some seriously insane thoughts going through my head. As a CEO, I’ve always tried to be conscious of my mental landscape. I like to think of it as spending mental units. I’ve got a hundred mental units. Where am I going to aim them? How am I going to use them most effectively?

Now, every single one is aimed at Maci. They’re aimed at savage ideas of stripping her naked, kissing and biting her creamy, thick body, and making her skin as red as her nervous cheeks. I want to claim her, own her, and make her mine. This is beyond messed up. I’m getting hard with my daughter in the same room. That’s just wrong.

Taking slow breaths, I do my best to smile to keep my focus anywhere except on Maci. That’s the only thing I can do.

“Have you told Dad about your graphic novel?” Kayla says innocently.

“No,” Maci murmurs from beside me in a small voice. Don’t look at her, I roar in my mind. Her small, timid voice makes me want to turn and tell her she never has to be nervous around me. She never has to doubt if she’s good enough. “We haven’t been talking much.”

“Well… why don’t you?”

Maci laughs awkwardly, nervously. Damn. Is she feeling it, too, this hunger? Maybe that’s just wishful thinking or, more accurately, self-destructive feeling. “I don’t think he’s interested, Kay.”

“Dad,” Kalya says, giving me a look. She’s being playful and lighthearted and has no idea how badly I want to claim her friend. It’s probably the last thing she would imagine. “Don’t be rude.”

I try to smirk. “Are you trying to teach me how to be social, Kayla?”

“You know somebody has to,” she teases.

Luckily, Kayla turns back to the pan, so she doesn’t realize I’m purposefully not looking at her when I ask Maci, “What’s your graphic novel about?”

“It’s… nothing.”

“Maci,” Kayla laughs, shaking her head, still with her back turned. “Don’t make me teach you how to be social, too.”

“It’s just a training project. That’s how I’m looking at it. It’s about a woman who falls down a well but enters a magical kingdom.”

“A training project?” I ask.

“I’ve been trying to work on graphic novels for years,” she says, “but it’s always been so stop-and-start. I’ll get a few pages in, and then the self-doubt will creep up on me and ruin it. So, this time, I’m working on something I don’t really care about, and it’s working.” The passion sparking in her voice is almost enough to make me look at her. “I’m making progress. Weirdly, even if I started the project not caring, now I do.”

“That sounds like a clever way to direct your mind,” I say, impressed.

“Uh oh,” Kayla laughs. “You’re about to get Dad started on mental models, productivity, and all that jazz.”

“Mental models?” Maci asks.

I can feel her staring at me. I know I need to be better and control myself, but it’s just so damn difficult. I turn, drinking in the sight of her wide, interested eyes. Her lips are still pursed in that kissable, fuckable way.

“My mind has to be a well-oiled machine,” I tell her, leaving out that she’s currently threatening that. “I’ve experimented with various methods to hack my thoughts over the years. It lets me be more productive. One example was when I went for a run, I’d imagine Kayla was in danger. I wouldn’t just imagine. I’d believe. It takes work. It’s difficult, but it seems you already know a lot about it.”

A smile touches her gorgeous lips. Her whole face changes when she smiles, lighting up attractively. She brushes a hand through her hair. Her cheeks are an even deeper shade of red now. It’s like she finds it difficult to look at me. Did she see me climb out of the pool?

Soon, it’s time for breakfast. We sit at the bar together. Thankfully, they start talking about college. It gives me the time I need to calm myself down. My manhood softens, but only because the idea of my daughter seeing me like this makes me sick. Even so, my underwear is sticky with precome. I was ready to go right here. I was prepared to take my woman.

My woman? Dammit.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day, girls?” I ask, purposefully using girls to emphasize the twenty years between us. I’m forty. They’re twenty. The phrase she could be your daughter applies with undeniable force here when she is literally the same age as my daughter.

“College work,” Kayla says. “Then maybe some board games… if you want to join us?”

“I’ll see,” I reply, rising from the bar. “Lots of work to do.”

I flee the room, almost running, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. It sends urgent energy through my body. I end up in my bedroom and lock the door. “End up” like it’s not my responsibility.

Closing the curtains, I lie on the bed and shut my eyes. I imagine Maci sneaking in here, wearing those shorts that show off her thick legs. I imagine her biting her lip when she sees me on the bed with my cock in my hand. I’ve already pulled down my shorts, my shaft hard again, stroking up and down.

“You’re so hard,” I imagine her whispering as she walks across the room.

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