Forbidden: Daddy's Best Friend

Ten

Olivia Westview

My heart raced at his words, the combination of his suggestive voice and the intense way he looked at me making the moment feel incredibly intimate and provocative. The air between us crackled with heightened tension as I took a deep breath. Somehow, by some miracle, my senses came back to me.

I swallowed hard. “I... I’ll try them on later when I get home, James.”

He took another sip of his drink, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he composed himself. “Alright, whatever you want,” he said smoothly. “I’m just glad you accepted them.”

I nodded. “Thank you, James.”

He gestured with his glass, indicating that I was dismissed. “You can go back down and finish whatever you were doing. It’s already near clocking-out time.”

I turned around, moving to leave, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Just as I reached the door, James called after me.

What now? “Yes?” I asked, turning back to face him.

James pointed to the paper bags on the counter. “You forgot your things, Olivia.”

“Oh. Right,” I said, scrambling back to gather the gifts he had for me. My hands shook slightly as I collected the luxurious items, the weight of the bags feeling almost as heavy as the situation itself.

As I was almost out the door of his office, he called after me again. “There are more where those came from.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just faked a smile and nodded, then quickly left the penthouse.

~ o 0 o ~

It was almost 7 pm, and I still had a ton of work to do, no thanks to Sarah. The time for clocking out was long past, and I was rushing to get everything finished.

Just a little more, just a little more, Liv, I hyped myself up. But no amount of hyping could finish this mountain of paperwork. Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I slammed my hand on the desk.

"Ugh. Fvck all of this!"

The sound of the door opening startled me, and I looked up to see James standing there.

"Why are you still here, Olivia?" he asked as he stepped into the room, making my heart immediately rattle at the sight of him.

"I... I’m still finishing up the files Sarah gave me today," I explained, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

James almost rolled his eyes, his demeanor shifting to a more authoritative tone. "You can leave those for tomorrow."

I hesitated, knowing how Sarah would react if the work wasn’t done. "But Sarah would—"

"Remind me who you are working for, Miss Westview," he interrupted, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Alright," I surrendered, feeling the tension ease slightly.

"Good," he said with a nod. "Pack your things. I will give you a ride."

I looked at him in surprise and immediately shook my head. "Oh no, that's really not necessary, James. I can manage."

"Olivia, it’s late. I insist," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto mine with a determination that made it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

"But—"

"No buts," he cut me off. "I would feel better knowing you got home safely. Besides, I don't want your Dad thinking that I was not treating her daughter properly."

Yeah? What would Dad think if he knew how you treated me last night?

I sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. He was my boss, and he was being insistent. "Alright," I agreed reluctantly, beginning to gather my things.

James waited as I packed up, his presence comforting and intimidating at the same time. Once I was ready, he led the way out of my office.

We walked to the elevator in tense silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. I felt a lump forming in my throat, my anxiety mounting with each step. As we reached the elevator, James pressed the button, and the doors slid open with a soft chime.

We stepped inside, and I found myself clutching the stupid paper bags with the luxury gifts he had given me earlier. The weight of them seemed to mirror the heavy silence that filled the small space. I stared at my feet, my heart pounding in my chest, feeling both awkward and self-conscious.

James stood beside me. He was so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and his cologne—rich and subtly intoxicating—permeated the air. The elevator began its descent, and the soft hum of the machinery was the only sound between us.

I dared a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. The sight of him, so composed and effortlessly handsome, only added to my nervousness.

My mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic whirl. What was he thinking? Did he sense my discomfort? Why had he insisted on giving me a ride home? The questions buzzed in my head, but I didn’t dare voice any of them.

James broke the silence with a soft, almost amused sigh. "You seem tense, Olivia."

"Just... a long day," I managed to say, still staring at my feet.

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I understand. Try to relax. I don't bite," he said. "Unless of course, you want me to."

What the fvck? I looked at him as though he had suddenly sprouted a third bo0b or something.

"I'm just pulling your leg." He laughed. "You should have seen your face, Olivia."

"Right." I managed a nervous chuckle. Oh, don't be such a prude, Liv. You know you want him to bite you. I took a steadying breath. Shut up, self.

Finally, the elevator chimed again, signaling our arrival at the ground floor. The doors slid open, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

James gestured for me to step out first, and I hurried out, clutching the paper bags tightly. He followed closely behind, his presence a constant, silent pressure. We made our way to the parking lot, the quiet clicking of my heels contrasting with James’s confident, measured strides. The sea of cars stretched out before us, and my eyes widened as I spotted a sleek, black Maserati Quattroporte parked idly among the rows of vehicles.

A chauffeur stood by the driver's side door, his posture straight and professional. As we approached, he stepped forward, opening the door with a practiced, fluid motion.

“Good evening, Mr. Sinclair,” he greeted.

“Good evening, Charles,” James replied with a nod. “This is Olivia Westview, my new executive secretary.”

Charles turned to me, offering a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Miss Westview.”

“Nice to meet you too, Charles.”

James continued, “I won’t need you to drive tonight, Charles.”

The chauffeur’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly composed himself, handing over the keys without protest. “Of course, sir.”

James took the keys and then turned to Charles. “Could you place these bags in the trunk, please?”

Charles nodded, taking the paper bags from my hands. “Right away, sir.”

I watched as he carefully stowed the luxury gifts in the trunk. Once he was done, he closed the trunk with a soft click and stepped back.

“All set, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Thank you, Charles. You can take the night off.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a great evening,” Charles responded before walking away, leaving us alone beside the sleek, elegant car.

James opened the passenger door for me, and I slid into the plush leather seat, still feeling a bit dazed by the turn of events. He closed the door gently, then walked around to the driver’s side.

As James settled into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors, he glanced over at me. “Don’t forget to buckle up, Olivia.”

"Right." I fumbled with the seatbelt, my hands shaking slightly from the lingering tension and the unfamiliarity of the situation. After several failed attempts, I bit my lip in frustration. Why wouldn't you lock, you stupid seatbelt?

James noticed my struggle and leaned over, his muscled arm brushing against me as he reached for the seatbelt. “Here, let me help you.”

As he leaned over me, effectively framing me against the car seat, I couldn’t help but inhale deeply. He smelled like muscles, testosterone, and all the good things in the world that money could buy. It was driving me nuts. My heart raced as our shoulders touched, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I was certain he was doing this on purpose, savoring the closeness and the effect it had on me.

When the seatbelt finally clicked shut, he pulled back to his seat, a satisfied look on his face. “There.”

I was flushed, my cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and something more. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze, so I stared straight ahead, trying to calm my racing heart.

Don't make this awkward, Livvy, I reminded myself as James started the car and smoothly pulled out of the parking lot.