Page 10 of The Silver Fox Daddy

I can't even imagine what Tyler would do to me if he found out. This is why I can't go too long without getting laid. It leads to poor judgment.

Now that I'm back at work, I have to pick up the pieces my assistant left behind when she departed, claiming a family emergency forced her to leave for California. While I sympathize with her situation, I'm frustrated to be left in the lurch without any notice, scrambling to find a new assistant.

Sitting at my desk, I type away furiously at my computer, attempting to respond to the numerous emails I missed as quickly as possible. I also need to pick up my dry cleaning, see our company's attorney to review some contracts, and grab something to eat—tasks my former assistant normally handled for me.

After sending my final email, I gather my belongings and prepare to dash around the city to try and complete all my tasks. It wouldn't feel so overwhelming if my mind wasn't constantly preoccupied with thoughts of Monica.

I told her we had to forget it. And I’m working on that. But I simply can’t shake such amazing sex from my mind in a few days. Thoughts of our romp will be lingering in my head for some time.

I never thought the image of Monica riding me would be so enticing. She looked radiant. It didn’t feel like the Monica I was so used to picking on, but someone different, a temptress I had never met.

And though I wouldn’t say it out loud, my body craves her again.

Running errands around the city is a headache. I nearly lose my cool when I think the dry cleaners have misplaced my clothes. After thirty tension-filled minutes of searching, they finally locate them.

By the time I finish at my company's attorney's office, the thought of getting something to eat feels pointless. I decide to return home to eat there and hopefully clear my head before picking up Archer from school. One of the perks of being the boss is having the ability to structure my own day.

As soon as I arrive home, I toss my briefcase by the couch before heading straight to the kitchen. "I hope there's something decent here," I mumble before opening the stainless-steel refrigerator.

I manage to put together a sandwich for myself and plop down on the couch, grateful for sustenance. It's only then that I realize maybe I should have stayed at the office. My mind is even more preoccupied with thoughts of Monica now that I'm alone in my home with no work to distract me.

When did she become a woman? When did she stop being the free-spirited, smart-mouthed teenager that I remember? While she still possesses those qualities, she's grown into them significantly more now that she's in her mid-twenties.

Just thinking about her smart mouth and all the things I could do to silence it makes me harden.

“Shit,” I mumble, setting my half-eaten sandwich down on the coffee table.

I must stop thinking about her in that way. It's entirely inappropriate on so many levels. However, when the towel slipped from her body, she’d looked undeniably stunning. It's almost as if fate has cursed me to desire the one woman who is completely off-limits, especially considering that she's the same woman who made me see stars for the first time in a year.

But even as I tell myself that, it doesn’t stop the steady rising of my cock in my suit pants.

Perhaps I'm just feeling stressed and need an outlet. While I'm aware that I can't hook up with Monica again and need to stop thinking about her, maybe my body requires one more opportunity to relive our time together before I erase it from my mind permanently.

Yes, that seems like a logical approach.

Cautiously, as if something is going to stop me, I reach my hand down to unzip my slacks, only working my pants down enough that I can pull out my member comfortably.

Not even the thoughts of how I’m eighteen years older than her and she’s my best friend’s sister can stop me as I wrap my hand around myself.

I apply pressure, letting my hand slowly stroke up and down, my thumb taking a few swipes at my tip.

Once this is over, I'll make a conscious effort to rid my mind of thoughts about Monica. Instead, I'll focus on the pressing matters, like preventing my ex from gaining custody of Archer. However, for now, I'll indulge in thoughts of the moment I walked into that sitting room and found Monica standing there in nothing but a towel. Why did she and I have to be left alone like that? Why didn't she join the others for dinner? Why couldn't I have gone too?

I should have walked away after I kissed her, but I couldn't resist. I knew I needed all of her once I tasted her.

My hand starts to speed up as I think about how that moment progressed. As soon as that towel dropped from her body, I was entranced. Monica's curves were tantalizing, from her toned abs with that cute little belly button piercing, to her wide hips and even more tempting backside. How could I have even considered stopping myself in that moment?

The feeling of her wet core sinking down on me was intoxicating to the point that I could completely forget that it was Monica and focus solely on how it was making me feel.

“Monica,” I call out as I shoot all over my hand.

The orgasm is intense, even though it happened just from my hand. I guess thinking about Monica can do that for me.

The thought is a sobering one as I quickly get up to wash my hand in the kitchen sink. I shouldn’t have done that, but hopefully I won’t have any more inappropriate thoughts about her, having gotten that out of my system.

That being said, I should put getting laid on my to-do list.

Going back to the couch, I find my phone to look through the new batch of emails that I’m sure have flooded into my inbox in the last hour.

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