Her Dad’s Best Friend novel Chapter 2

Lincoln

“Camilla.”

Her beautiful brown eyes go up to meet mine. Her face flushes a little.

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

“It’s time to go home.” I point at the clock. “Everyone left a half hour ago. It’s just you and me. You should get home, or I’ll have to have a talk with your dad about appropriate work-life balance.”

“Right away.” Her face is still flushed.

I watch as she bends over to get her backpack. She’s a good girl. I know that she comes here straight from the summer classes she’s taking at a local community college. My buddy wants to teach her about responsibility and the value of a dollar, so even though he’s perfectly capable of providing for her, he makes her work during the summer to pad her resume.

It’s been sheer hell. She always wears these tight skirts that emphasize the curve of her hips, especially when she’s bent over like she is now. I’ve spent this summer adjusting my erection because it’s so inappropriate for me to feel this way about my temporary secretary. When my normal secretary, Amanda, told me that she was knocked up and taking advantage of the standard three months of maternity leave, I was panicking. But my buddy Jack said to give his little girl a job, and here we are. I’m staring at her red skirt pulling tight against her ass while she throws things into her bag. There aren’t any visible panty lines, which means that she’s wearing a thong or going bare.

The thought of Camilla going bare makes me harder than ever. If I don’t stop staring at her curvy ass, I’m going to drip some pre-come.

Then she’s standing up and sliding her backpack on her shoulders. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I watch as she walks to the elevators. Her curly hair bounces with every step. There’s something so cheerful about her. Her dad calls her Sunshine, and it’s a nickname that I use occasionally, too. She’s sweet, happy, and light and always has been.

I look down at my pants. I’ve tucked my erection in my waistband, but it’s throbbing angrily. It knows what it wants, even though it’ll never get it. Her dad would blow my balls off with his shotgun, and that’d only be the first step.

“Down, boy.”

But my erection persists, and I have to resort to something that has happened with increasing frequency this summer.

I go to the private bathroom connected to my office, unzip my pants, pull out my dick, and close my eyes.

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