My Best Friend’s CEO Dad Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
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I make sure to stare a challenge at the camera. My commenters are flooding the bottom of the screen with questions, asking if I’ve gone nuts or if it’s some viral marketing ploy—the setup for a competition. As it happens, that’s going to be our cover. I’ve put a link up for my viewers to submit their ideas about what I’m talking about. When this is over, we’ll randomly draw a name and give them a ten-thousand-dollar gift card, accepting their explanation.

Ending the live, I look over at Gabriel. He’s sitting on the other side of my office, nodding slowly.

“Are the men in place?” I ask.

He nods. “They’re watching the building. According to Finn, it’s where they’ve met every time they’ve been in the city. We’re surveilling it with long-range scopes. There’s no way they’ll know we’re watching. We’ve left a cell number in there for them.” Gabriel takes a cell phone from his pocket. “So now, it’s a waiting game.”

“In that case, I’m going to grab a bite. Let me know when it’s time.”

The plan is for me to behave as if I will trade myself for Sebastian. Then we move in and, hopefully, capture them and hand them over to the police. That’ll take some finessing since we’ll need to explain somehow how we got our hands on them. We’ll handle that problem when we get there.

Going into the open-plan kitchen living room, I find it full. Finn and Kayla sit on the couch, not touching, but closer than I would’ve expected. Finn looks more sober now. He’s showered, and he seems alert. Anna, Maci’s mom, sits holding her boyfriend’s hand. Maci sits on an armchair alone, her hands clasped in her lap. She’s changed into loose-fitting PJs. My body stirs as I think about tearing them off and revealing the perfection underneath.

She smiles tightly at me.

“Anybody hungry?” I ask.

“We’ve eaten,” Kayla replies.

I go into the kitchen, grab some precooked chicken breast and rice from the fridge, then nuke it in the microwave. Sitting at the bar, I eat while they play Scrabble. It brings me back to the time Kayla, Maci, and I played it and the words we threw at each other. Naked. Virgin. Now, it all makes sense.

“Wow, nice one,” Kayla says when Finn puts down a high-scoring word.

“Thanks,” he says tightly. “I was trying to spell sorry.”

“At least you told the truth,” she mutters. “That’s the most important thing.”

“I lied. I manipulated you. Hell, Kayla, at least slap me.”

I wonder if there’s a chance they could make it work. Finn seems remorseful in the extreme, but he’s probably still a little drunk. Or maybe this is another layer of his scam. I’m going to have to watch him carefully.

“By the way,” I say. I know this makes me a bad man, but I can’t stop sneaking looks at my woman. My body aches sitting so close to her but not being able to touch her or even talk to her openly. “The stairs going down to the basement pool are giving us problems. Something to do with the structure, according to the caretaker. Best to avoid it for now.”

“I don’t think anybody cares about going for a nighttime swim, Dad,” Kayla says.

I’ve just lied… again. How many lies are there going to be? The thing is, I need to see my woman. I’m hungry for her. Soon, Gabriel will get a call. It’ll be time to move out, save my best friend, and save Finn’s sister. It’s time to do the right thing. Is that my excuse for planning to do the wrong thing first?

I tell Gabriel to call my cell if he hears anything, not to come and find me. Then I go to bed and wait, staring at the clock as my heart hammers and my nerves buzz. One a.m., two a.m., then I let thirty minutes pass. Finally, when the house is quiet, I walk into the hallway, moving to Maci’s door. My rod is stiff in my pants. My chest is tight with emotion.

Knocking would make too much noise, so I turn the handle slowly and push the door open. She’s sitting up in bed, a notepad in her lap, sketching something. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt with no bra, her thick legs on display. My body stirs even more.

“I was hoping you’d come,” she whispers.

Moving across the room, I take her hand, holding my other finger to my lips. She nods as I help her to her feet and lead her to the door. We walk down the stairs hand-in-hand, then down another set of stairs into the basement pool. I lock the door to the pool area behind me. Soft yellow mood lighting bounces off the water.

When I turn to kiss my woman, she grabs my chest, digging her nails in. I think she’s going to push me away—there’s a definite moment where she applies pressure—but then she moans and pulls herself closer to me. We sink into a hot-as-hell kiss.


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