Page 7 of My Best Friend’s Silver Fox Daddy (Yes, Daddy #52)

MORGAN

“ D ammit,” I mutter, pushing away from the table.

It’s hard to focus on this stinking paper I have to do when my mind is running wildly with the memories of being with Mr. Hooper in his office.

All I have to do is close my eyes and I shudder, feeling his kiss, his hands on my body, and his long, thick cock so deep inside me.

If I knew it was going to be like a drug and that I’d be suffering from withdrawal after not hearing from him for a couple of days, I might have reconsidered seducing him.

Okay, probably not, but still. There’s a small piece of me that’s a little hurt he hasn’t called.

I think that piece expected that he, too, would be jonesing for another hit of what I have.

That he’d be suffering the same kind of withdrawal that has me shaking and sweating like a fiend.

At the very least, I’d been hoping he’d call just to check in on me or something. I don’t know.

It’s stupid, I know. I told him it was people who overcomplicate things, and here I am, overcomplicating them.

I know I gave him the impression it was a casual, one-off sort of deal.

He can’t be blamed for believing me when my actions all implied this was a no-strings-attached, good-time-only fling.

That’s the impression I wanted to leave him with, so he wouldn’t feel pressured to act in a certain way with me.

And to alleviate him of any guilt he might have.

What I didn’t factor into my grand plan is who will alleviate my guilt?

I betrayed Kelsey by sleeping with her father.

I promised her I wouldn’t do anything with Mr. Hooper, and the minute she goes out of town, I seduce him.

I’m a terrible friend. I’m a horrible human being.

But this is something I’ve dreamed of and fantasized about for so long, I just couldn’t help myself.

I couldn’t deny myself what I wanted. And now, because of my lack of restraint, I am burdened by my guilt.

A knock at the door draws my attention, thankfully pushing all those thoughts to the back of my mind. At least for the moment. I walk to the door, and when I open it, my heart immediately leaps into my throat as my stomach lurches so hard it’s painful.

“Mr. Hooper,” I say. “W-what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk, Morgan.”

“Um. Yeah, okay.”

I step aside and let him in, then close the door. I look down at myself and grimace. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, a t-shirt that exposes my midriff, and pink, fuzzy slippers. My hair isn’t even done. I have it tied up into a messy bun atop my head.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting anybody?—”

“You look fantastic,” he replies.

“I don’t.”

“You really do,” he says.

He stands in the middle of my living room, drinking me in, his eyes hungry, his cheeks slightly flushed, telling me that he truly believes what he’s saying.

The heat quickly rises from my neck into my face, and I turn away, quickly turning off the TV—not that I was watching it anyway.

It’s just background noise. I start to straighten up the books and the papers scattered around the table and surround my laptop.

“Sorry for the mess. I was just working on a paper?—”

Before I finish my sentence, Mr. Hooper pulls me to him.

Startled, I turn my face up to him, and the heat in his hazel eyes steals my breath.

He leans down and kisses me. My heart racing, I melt into him, sliding my arms around the back of his neck and rolling my tongue around his as he slides his arms around my waist and crushes me against his body.

His cock is already hard and pressed against my belly, and I gasp, my entire body quivering.

With a low growl, Mr. Hooper pulls my t-shirt up.

I raise my arms, allowing him to take it off.

Never taking his eyes off me, he tosses my shirt aside.

His eyes glitter with desire, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

I’m floored that this is happening again.

I thought that what happened between us was a one-time thing and would never be repeated.

But the intensity of his kiss has my head spinning, and tells me Mr. Hooper has been thinking about this as much as I have.

As he quickly strips off his shirt and starts pulling his pants down, I kick off my slippers and shimmy out of my shorts.

A small grin curling his lips, he pulls me over to the couch and sits down, pulling me on top of him.

I straddle his lap and lean forward, my hair cascading down around our faces like a curtain.

It feels like we’ve shut out the world around us and only the two of us remain.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his voice low and gruff.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“I know this is wrong, but I can’t stop wanting you.”

I shake my head. “This isn’t wrong.”

Moving before he can rethink all of this, I lower myself onto his rock hard cock, taking him into me inch by glorious inch.

And when I’m seated on him, I kiss him again, forcing my tongue past his teeth as I wait for the pinch of pain to subside.

It soon does, and I’m left with nothing but the pleasure that’s lighting me up inside.

My body tingles, and a shaky smile touches my lips.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“I’m amazing,” I say.

Moving slowly, I roll my hips, sliding up and down on his cock, the friction of his hard shaft gliding along the inner walls of my sex, sending electricity through my veins.

Throwing my head back, I bounce up and down on his staff, grinding myself down on it, taking him deep into me.

Mr. Hooper leans forward, cupping my breasts.

He sucks on my hard nipples, flicking his tongue over them, making me moan.

He slips his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down into another kiss as he slaps my ass.

The sharp sting floods my body, heightening the pleasure of having him pierce the very center of me.

We roll and writhe together, our bodies moving in a perfectly sinuous rhythm.

Goosebumps prickle my skin, and I can’t seem to stop the smile on my face.

He’s staring at me with an expression of awe, his eyes burning with desire.

He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Like I’m a living work of art. And it makes me even wetter.

“You feel so good, Mr. Hooper,” I say, my breath wispy.

A low groan passes his lips, and a strange expression touches his features.

He stares at me like he knows he shouldn’t enjoy hearing me call him that, but enjoys it anyway.

Like, really enjoys it, if his cock twitching and growing even harder is any judge.

I thrust myself up and down, harder and faster, drawing a long, sensual groan from him.

He swells inside of me, and he clenches his jaw, the veins in his neck standing out as he tries to hold himself back.

My body is alight with sensations, almost too many to handle.

My cries are stuttering, and my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. My stomach tightens as I feel him right on the brink, and when he presses his head back against the couch and cries out, I feel my pussy gripping onto him tighter as I thrust myself down on him one last time.

Mr. Hooper explodes. As I feel the rush of his warm, sticky come filling me up, I throw my head back and cry out his name.

My body shakes wildly, and my heart stutters as my breath is driven from my lungs.

He grabs my hips, thrusting himself upward, driving himself into me as he comes.

It touches off bursts of sensation inside me.

With his hands on my hips, we remain locked in that position, seemingly frozen in that moment in time as we tremble together.

It takes a moment, but my breath finally returns, and my heart slips back into its steady rhythm once more.

Feeling boneless, I slump forward, pressing my forehead to his.

Mr. Hooper stares into my eyes, a crooked grin upon his lips.

We linger in the moment, relishing the feelings of light, glowing energy that envelops us.

“This isn’t what I intended when I came by,” he says.

“I think it worked out just fine.”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, so do I.”

Still straddling his lap, I lay my head on his shoulder and breathe in his musky, masculine scent.

Mr. Hooper trails his fingers through my hair and down my back, gently stroking me.

The tips of his fingers leave trails of warmth on my skin and make my heart swell.

I can’t help but feel like something has shifted between us.

I can’t explain it. I don’t even really understand it.

But it feels like there’s been some fundamental change in our relationship.

He may have come here to tell me this couldn’t happen again, but something changed for him.

Maybe it was just lust. Desire. But I don’t think so.

I think whatever it is goes deeper than that.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I nuzzle closer to him, relishing the feel of his body, so taut and warm, against my own. This is definitely getting complicated.

But I like it.