Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
It’s been six months. I’m trying to pretend nothing ever happened. Yet now I’m trapped in a cabin with the woman of my dreams and her dad, my best friend.
It’s so wrong. I almost entirely claim her voluptuous body at her graduation party.
I’ve done my best to lose myself in my work since, but I made a mistake. I crossed the wrong man. Now he’s threatened the only people I care about: Mike, my best friend, and his daughter, Emma.
While trapped together, the blizzard lets us forget the rest of the world and her dad, my friend. It allows us to pretend that what we’re doing isn’t so, so wrong because it feels so damn right.
*Imprisoned With My Best Friend’s Dad is an insta-everything, OTT, standalone romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
JACOB
Istand at the edge of the function room, my hands in my pockets, watching the dancers, the chattering partygoers, and the merriment. People tend to avoid me. They do, in general, because I want it that way. I just put a scowl on my face and fold my arms. I guess being six-three helps. I’ve had a bad week, a real sour job: two lowlifes got away with something they shouldn’t have, and some kids experienced things they shouldn’t even have known existed. I only agreed to attend this party because it’s my last chance to see Mike before heading out again. I sound like an ungrateful ass, but he is my friend.
“You’re paranoid,” Mike says, leaning against the wall beside me, one hand in his pocket. He’s a small man, but only in physical size. He’s got the spirit of a honey badger, always ready to fight. He adjusts his hipster-style glasses, bringing attention to his sleeve of tattoos, making him look like a nerdy, badass Mr. Clean. He shaved his hair last year after his hairline receded a bit too much. “Rather be gray like you than bald, but life’s life,” he’d joked.
“Somebody threatened you,” I grunt. “I’m not going to let them get away with that.”
Mike was the primary accountancy manager for a multinational nonprofit dealing with trafficking victims. Recently, everyone in his office received emails saying their lives were at risk. When Mike told me over the phone, he had an almost joking tone in his voice. I could hear him rolling his eyes. “It was a mass email. Everybody got one. It’s just a stunt. They didn’t message me specifically.”
“I don’t give a damn about that,” I say. “I’m keeping you and Emma safe. How is she, anyway?”
Emma has been with her mother the last few times I’ve visited Mike. Jesus Christ, if I’d known then… If I’d ever dreamed I would feel this way someday, I couldn’t have imagined it. I was bringing up Emma just to make some small talk. The last time I saw her, she was seventeen, I think, seeming more like an overgrown toddler to me. I knew her as a baby. If you’d told me then that I’d ever feel a thing for her, the idea would’ve been laughable. I never would have believed it. I’ve had women over the years—never anything passionate, more like an exchange of biological needs.
In recent years, there’s not even been that—just the work, just the sickness of what I saw. I let out the darkness in me whenever I felt it closing in by funneling it into my profession.
“Yeah, all good,” Mike replies absently. I think he can tell I’m not actually interested in Emma. That doesn’t seem kind, but to me, she’s always been Mike’s little girl.
I close my eyes, breathe, and stare into the darkness behind my eyelids. I almost want something to appear. I almost want an excuse to unload my gun and release some of the tension I feel building inside. Opening my eyes, I scan the room, looking for trouble.
“I don’t know where the lady of the hour is.” Mike scans the party, as I’ve been doing. Then he says, “Oh.”
Emma stands at the entrance with a couple of her friends. She isn’t a kid anymore, that’s for sure, wearing a dress that has me wondering if I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Her thick legs, naked, with no tights, just creaminess, have me questioning my sanity. Her ample tits strangled in that dress have got me salivating. As she approaches us, I watch her cheeks redden, and her eyelids flutter. She looks beautiful. She looks like mine.
Emma
It was a silly stunt. I’ll admit that, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted Jacob to notice forever. I’ve prayed for him to look down at me with those pale green eyes and for the corner of his mouth to twitch, just a little, a near-smile, all for me. I’ve dreamed of him leaning down, smoothing his strong hands down to my hips and squeezing, his breath warm on my face.
He stands beside Dad, upright like usual, his hands behind his back. Jacob always looks ready for a fight. My body sizzles, my soul aching as fiercely as everything else. Everybody has had crushes, but Jacob is different. Nothing makes me sparkle like Jacob. Nobody makes me feel more alive.
Dad’s eyes widened a little when he sees my outfit. I only dressed like this for Jacob. When I heard he was going to be here, I put my anxiety and self-consciousness in a locked box and put on my sexiest outfit. Dad forces a smile a moment later. He probably doesn’t want to ruin my big night.
“She finally graces us with her presence,” he jokes.
I smile shakily, waiting for Jacob to notice me or care. He looks down with those intense eyes, his lips flat. If anything, he looks pissed, his muscles straining through his blue shirt, but not douchebag-tight like he’s trying to show off. He doesn’t need to show off; the man is massive.