Forbidden Love: My Daddy's Best Friend novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127 

Biting my lip, I look at him; if he’s not going to distribute the video, then Elon won’t know about it. 

“I’m pretty sure I said you don’t bite that lip anymore,” he says as his finger pulls my lip free of my teeth. 

“You won’t distribute it?” I ask. 

“No. I have someone I know I can trust to edit it. Once he has edited it and given me the copy, he wipes everything. I will keep one single copy on my laptop, protected with a password, and give another copy to you. Two copies, no more,” he explains. 

“Okay, then I will agree,” I reply. 

“I will collect you, say, at seven tonight?” he asks. 

“You want to do it tonight?” I have no problem with that, but I didn’t think he would be in that much of a rush. 

“No, I plan to take you out for food, and we will discuss the payment, where you want the video sent, and such. I will also bring proof that the person I have editing it has signed an NDA, so you can be sure Elon will not know,” he explains, and I nod. 

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“Seven is fine, thank you,” I reply. I’m glad he mentioned the NDA, as that helps. Leaning forward, he kisses my cheek and leaves. As soon as he walks away, Clara is next to me. 

“Can I please shower? I usually shower straight after a scene, but I didn’t get to this time. 

“Sure, you can talk while you shower.” She skips towards it, and I follow. Standing in the shower, I explain his proposal to her, and she stares at me. 

“You have to! Elon won’t know, so do it.” 

“Clara, I already agreed. He is picking me up tonight, so we can go out and discuss it,” I explain. 

“You have a date!” she squeals, and I laugh. 

“More of a business meeting,” I reply. 

“No, a business meeting he would do at his business, him picking you up and taking you out is a date,” she argues. It’s not a date. Laughing, I get dried and dressed. 

“You didn’t even fuck him yet. Your ‘pretty woman‘ game is good,” she grins at me. 

“It’s not like that.” It’s business, that’s all. 

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“Cause it is. Anyway, if he’s not publishing the video, Elon won’t know. He doesn’t control who you can fuck for fun, so if he happens to see you two together, say it’s personal.” 

I nod in agreement and say goodbye before leaving. 

Standing, I look down at myself. I don’t feel ready for this. I don’t feel like I am appropriately dressed. The dress I am wearing is not ideal. I was planning to wear a nice pair of suit trousers and a fancy top. 

Half an hour ago, he messaged requesting I wear a dress. I glance at the bed, feeling annoyed by all the dresses. He may not care, but I don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress I used while filming. 

That left one dress, the one I wear out to clubs, and it’s far from ideal. It’s far from sophisticated or elegant. Still, it’s the only dress I am willing to wear. 

It shows far too much skin and is provocative. I glance at the bed, there are other dresses that are less slutty, if I’m honest, but they were worn during filming. The thought of wearing a dress that a guy has gripped to hold me in place while fucking me is playing on my mind. 

My phone buzzes, and I see his message saying he’s nearly 

Chapter 127 

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here. I don’t want him to come to my apartment, so I grab my bag and walk out. As I get outside and walk down the steps, the car stops. 

I roll my eyes at the car. I expect the back door to open and him. to be sitting in the back. Instead, the driver’s side opens, and he steps out. 

“You’re driving?” I ask. I assumed he would have a driver. 

“This is personal, so yes,” he replies. 

“It’s business,” I argue, and he chuckles. He opens the door for me, and I climb in, his eyes watching me as I do. I sit and watch as he gets in. 

“Now, I have to know, why that dress?” His eyes fall to my body. 

“Because I had nothing else appropriate. This is the only dress that hasn’t been gripped by a guy as he fucks me,” I reply honestly. His smile widens. 

“It was the only one. I think I want you to wear that when we film.” My eyes roll at his words, so now I will have no dress that I haven’t been fucked in for work. 

“So, we will eat, discuss things, then I shall drop you back at your place and we book a date, how does that sound?” he asks. 

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“Perfect to me,” I reply and watch the car stop. “No,” I turn to him. 

“No?” He smirks slightly. 

“Do I look like I belong in there? They won’t even let me through the door, let alone have a seat.” I’m not going to some fancy–ass business restaurant.