Dad's best friend secret baby

Prologue

Prologue: Evie

"It's an honor to have you here, my friend."

When my father pulled his best friend in for a hug, I knew for a fact that I wasn't hungover, and this was real.

Ethan Thorne, the most successful CEO entrepreneur in New York City, was here.

He single-handedly owned the largest Robotics company in the city. There was almost no field in robotics this man didn't operate in.

A familiar pair of striking, blue orbs, complemented by jet-black hair, gazed blankly at me over my father's shoulders.

I expected it before I felt it. It's what I'd termed the stranger's effect.

I'd seen him just once, under dim lights, but there was something about his gaze, seemingly blank but full enough to set my body on fire.

It's what was happening to me right now. And that is exactly what happened yesterday at the club.

Restraining myself from letting out an involuntary moan at the memories, I quickly lowered my eyes to the ground. When I spotted my father standing on his tippy toes, I raised my eyes. That was even more embarrassing.

After a quick internal battle, I caved in and gazed at his lips. Instantly, images of his plump lips running against every inch of my flesh ran through my mind. I started to feel it all again.

My hands wrapped against his thick member, and his sinful, hot trails of pleasure on every inch of my body. As if that were not enough, I could suddenly hear his deep baritone voice whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

I could feel the painfully sweet clench of his teeth around my nipples. I could still hear the small groans that sneaked through his throat as he nibbled every inch of my breasts.

Good Lord. What kind of daughter was I, thinking stuff like this when my father was barely inches from me? I mean, granted, his inches were longer than—

"It's nice to see you after a long time, James." His baritone voice resounded through the room, and not to exaggerate, I was compelled to fall to my knees. So, this was what he sounded like when he wasn't grunting in pleasure.

Commanding.

I watched in silence as he towered over my father's bald head before taking his seat on the red couch. The seat suddenly seemed small. No, he made it look small.

With his tailored, charcoal grey suit that hugged broad shoulders, this man seemed out of place in our moderately-sized living room.

"I almost can't believe you're here."

So, it is a surprise visit?

"And oh..." Suddenly, my father turned to me. "Evie, come here. I know for sure you haven't forgotten my daughter." A little awkward laugh followed his statement.

"Of course." Mr. Thorne eyed me with a straight face. I was suddenly aware that my jet-black hair was a mess, and my pajama pants were two times larger than my frame. "Of course, I haven't forgotten her. She was...eighteen when you left New York." He returned his attention to my father.

Now, I'm twenty-one.

It's no wonder he looked familiar in the club. Maybe if I hadn't been so carried away by how he looked with the top three buttons of his black shirt undone and the luring club music, I would have recognized him and wouldn't have almost had sex with him. Well, I wouldn't have anyway. Not yet.