Intern For My Best Friend's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance by Flora Ferrari (different e readers .TXT) 📕

“Anyway,” I say, standing abruptly. “It was nice to check in with you. But I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

That’s true, but it’s not the reason for this sudden goodbye.

If I don’t make her leave now, I won’t be able to stop myself.

The animal, possessive part of me will take over and I won’t be able to fight it.

I’ll claim her—her tits, her cunt, her ass, her lips, her soul.

Every part of her belongs to me.

“Of course,” she says, standing with me.

I walk around to her and offer her my hand, hoping she doesn’t look down and see what she’s done to me. My thick manhood must be a clear outline in the silver of my suit trousers.

She takes my hand, and I bite down, resisting the urge to pull her toward me. Her touch is warm, making me think of how she’d feel wrapped around my hot throbbing length.

“It was nice to meet you, Solomon,” she says.

We keep shaking hands, both of us holding on for far longer than is necessary. Her voice has become breathy and hot as if she knows what’s happening here as if this nineteen year old goddess isn’t as naïve as she seems.

“I know we’ve met before, but I was just a kid then. This sort of feels like the first time. Does that make sense?” she says quickly.

“Yes,” I growl, intoxicated with the way her words rush into each other, her nerves making her talk faster with each moment. “It makes complete sense. You’ve changed so much in just three years.”

Finally, I let go of her hand. I have to. I’d do something that would be unfair to Caitlin otherwise.

“I had my braces removed,” she murmurs. “Maybe it’s that.”

No, it’s so much more than that.

But I can’t tell her.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Sophia,” I say, gesturing toward the door. “Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

Those are empty words. I barely even hear them as I speak them. I just need her gone before the furious need inside of me becomes deafening and forces me to grab her hips, sink my hands into the fullness of her flesh, and claim her, taste her, own her.

She’s mine.

She’ll always be mine.

Why the hell does she have to be Caitlin’s best friend?

CHAPTER THREE

Sophia

“You’ve been great today, Sophia,” Hermione says, smiling at me as she stands over my desk.

Hermione is a friendly faced woman with her hair in dreadlocks, wearing a Harry Potter T-shirt, probably ironically considering that she’s got the same name as one of the main characters. She has a sleeve of swirling tribal tattoos up one arm, making her look as stylish as the graphic design floor she manages.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling up at her.

She pulls up a chair and sits next to my desk.

My desk.

The phrase seems absurd in my mind, but it’s the truth.

This is my desk and I freaking earned it.

“You seem a little … distant,” she mutters a moment later.

I shake my head instinctively. I want to blurt that if I seem odd, it has nothing to do with her or the work.

It has everything to do with him.

My mind lingers on the way we shook hands when he seemed to clutch onto me longer than was necessary. I remember the way he glared at me, his stark eyes glinting. He’s even more muscular and intense than I remember, his face clean shaven, his hair a deeper shade of silver.

For a second, I thought he was checking me out when he was staring at me, but of course, that’s just craziness.

He was probably angry that I’d interrupted his busy workday.

He rushed me out of there quickly enough.

“Sorry,” I say, realizing I’m just sitting there like the world’s biggest weirdo. “It’s just a lot to take in. I hope I didn’t make any mistakes today—any catastrophic ones, anyway.”

I try for a laugh, but it comes out strangled.

Hermione smiles kindly at me. She’s probably around the same age as Mom, but she looks younger with her dreadlocks and her stylish bone-white hipster glasses propped up on her head.

“You did really well,” she says. “I wouldn’t believe it was your first day unless I knew it. You’re a natural. I want to put you on a team tomorrow. You’ll help develop the material for a new charity campaign. They want something with artistic flair, and I think you’d be a great addition.”

“Whoah, really?” I say, excitement bubbling up inside of me. “That’s great. Thank you so much. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

“I know you’ll be amazing,” she says. “Anyway, I need to get out of here. Cats to feed, Netflix to binge, and all that. Have a good evening.”

“And you, boss.”

“Hey,” she says, standing. “What did I say about that? Hermione.”

“Okay, Hermione, thank you.”

I gather up my things and leave the building with everybody else, shouldering my bag.

A deranged thought spirals into my mind as I head toward the elevator. I think about pressing the button for the top floor, riding up to Solomon’s office, and inventing some reason for me being there.

I could tell him that I dropped something.

My phone, a memory stick, headphones, whatever.

I’d tell whatever lie I need so that I can be close to him so that maybe he’ll look at me in that searing, intense way again. My body pricks hotly just thinking about the look in his eyes—a look I probably imagined, but a look that will stay with me all evening and deep into the night.

My sex tingles at the thought of those intense eyes.

I imagine him thinking, You’re mine, Sophia. I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you.

It’s so stupid.

To him, I’m just the intern who was in braces only a little while ago.

I cram into the elevator and stand at the back, waiting as it descends down to the ground floor. When the doors open, I walk across the marble flooring toward