Chapter 2
LANCE
Alina is absolutely beautiful. And, in the back of my mind, I keep reminding myself that eyeing a girl half my age is the opposite of correct, but it takes a man much stronger than me to avert my gaze.
Slick black hair falls in a curtain down her back, skimming the top of ample hips. She has eyes that are deep pools of black, curious, and passionate. And in the moments that followed after meeting her, there was one thing I could read in those glittering eyes.
She doesn’t like me. I don’t know why, but she doesn’t.
Good. She is, after all, a friend of Genevieve’s. She’s at college age too. How inappropriate would it be for me to date someone my daughter’s age? No. Impossible. Completely unacceptable.
Even if she is this beautiful. Even as she sways her fantastic ass up and down my kitchen before the two leave for the beach. I tell them I have to work, but that’s a lie. I need some space. Some distance from her.
The beach is close enough I can check on them here and there. Genevieve has always been a fantastic swimmer, so I don’t need to worry about that. The ocean here is blue, peaceful, and safe. Yet, I keep looking out of the window to catch glimpses of her.
Alina in her black bikini, high-waisted and sexy as sin. The dark fabric is a stark contrast to her milky skin. She turns here and there, almond-shaped eyes shooting in my direction, and I can almost swear she’s gazing at me. It makes my pants tighter every single time, without fail.
Stepping away from the windows, I make my way to the office on the second floor. This was supposed to be a vacation, some time to spend with my daughter, but I don’t know how to deal with this. I can’t be attracted to my daughter’s best friend. She’s over twenty years my junior.
This is so fucking wrong.
And, yeah, I’ve done shit that could be considered... Not wrong, but not right. Ethics are often swept under the rug in business, and I took my mother’s company and made it thrive. Not always through the most Christian ways.
But this? What would the board of directors think if I showed up with a date the age of my daughter? Shit, the things she would hear them say... Shaking my head, I sit behind my desk and turn my computer on. Maybe some work will pull my head away from Alina.
My reflection on the screen catches my eye.
I’m such a fool. As if a pretty girl like her would look twice my way.
I’ve always been too large, too big. Even Genevieve’s mother, who I dated the longest—almost a year—wasn’t always comfortable with our size difference.
It’s useful in business, so I can scare competitors away and shake some hands too hard.
Women like taller men, but not men so tall they don’t fit in economy class. Not men so large I have to get tailored clothes. I get the glances in the street. I got used to them. But the heartache? That part I will never dismiss.
Alina is young, beautiful, and small. She’s precious, like a porcelain doll, and I could break her easily if I’m not careful around her. She’s going to be wise for the two of us. She won’t be interested in a man like me.
Even as I think that, I look out of the window.
Alina leaves the beach and sits on one of the lounging chairs.
Genevieve dips and dives, and before I know what I’m doing, I leave the office behind.
Taking the steps two on two, I reach the beach and sit next to Alina.
She jerks in surprise—how wouldn’t she? A man my size just plopping down next to her?
When I notice what my body did—without my acknowledgment—I try to relax in the chair, pretending this was all called for.
I’m still in trunks and a t-shirt, and I have to avert my eyes from her not to get another hard-on.
Shit. Her wet skin glints under the sunlight, and I swallow hard.
My mouth waters at the thought of licking up the salt on her legs.
“Genevieve said you two met in computer science,” I start, not looking at her. Just making small talk. Innocent small talk. The sun soaks into my legs, and I suddenly want to dive into the ocean to cool off.
And I half-expect her to reply with one of the passionate stories I heard her telling Genevieve yesterday evening. But no. Alina clears her throat, sitting on the very edge of the chair.
“Yeah. That’s right. Excuse me.” And she shoots to her feet again, racing to the ocean as if there was a beast after her.
And maybe that’s exactly what she thinks. Maybe she looks at me and sees a beast, an enormous beast interested only in devouring her. Shame clogs my throat. How foolish of me. Why did I think she would chat with me?
It’s clear now. She dislikes me, and I can’t say she’s wrong. It’s actually for the better. This is the best way to keep me away from her. Because of this, I won’t have any reason to feed into this obsession.
Swallowing my pride, I get back inside the house I should have never left.