5: Tristan.

No. It couldn't be Lia.

I must be seeing things.

I rub my eyes vigorously with the back of my arm and peer at the screen again to make sure I'm not hallucinating. But there it is, Lia's pictures; poignant, gorgeous, tempting, and so... revealing.

In one, she's wearing a light-blue, sheen-like bikini, lying on her side, her left arm resting on her hip as she shoots the camera that bold, flirtatious smile of hers I know so well. She's listed in the FEATURED section - the first on the fucking list. No surprise there. She is outrageously beautiful with bedroom eyes that speak of higher intelligence and a terse smartness. Those lithe thighs and glossy lips would make men lose control of their third legs in a heartbeat. She has that much appeal.

Now that I think about it, who else has access to this website? Thousands of men? Millions, perhaps? Every single one of them would click on her, including me. I have no choice, and I'm so bored. I tell myself I'm just browsing through her profile, gathering information in order to put a stop to this nonsense. I tell myself I'm merely looking out for her, but hell, these photos of her frolicking on the beach, looking like a sculptured goddess with the sun reflecting off her porcelain skin like that give me the hard-on of my existence.

Somehow, I manage to drag my gaze away from the last photo which is of her wet, dripping buns, and read the actual bio.

Hey there! Couldn't resist clicking on my pictures, I guess? *Wink wink*. I'm Lia. I'm just a normal, college girl searching for financial support in exchange for a private, relaxing, fun-filled time with you...

I snap the laptop close, not bothering to read the rest.

What the actual fuck? Does she need financial support?

Her father is a COO of a lucrative hedge fund. As close friends, since I could remember, we toiled, sweated, and gave our all to come up the ranks together. I've been to his home countless times for visits and dinners. Lia's family is well-to-do and financially stable. That's even an understatement - they're wealthy. It makes no sense that she would be in need of money. None at all.

Was she lying? Why would she lie about such a thing in the first place?

Well, this ends now. I've had it up to my throat. I know I should mind my business and stay away, but I can't.

She's...my friend's daughter. If I had a daughter, and Lia's father happened to stumble upon her on some corny dating site like this, I know for a fact he'd do what I'm about to do right now.

The thought of some lecherous old man putting his hands on Lia's body is making my stomach roil. It's so inappropriate and sickening, but what's the difference between me and such a man? I also want to touch her, don't I?

With a frustrated growl of self-loathing, I pick up my phone and unlock it with a swipe, scrolling through Lia's phone number. I don't remember when I took it from her, but I've had it for quite a long while, wanting to have a trusted backup way of reaching Eric when they venture out of the house together and don't come back till it's late as fuck. But I've never had cause to use it. Until now.

Even the thought of calling her up with my phone and hearing her soft, flirty voice is making my cock throb relentlessly in my pants.

She intoxicates me. I hate it, and I love it at the same time.

She answers on the third ring. "Well, hello there, Big Daddy," she sing-songs in a light, sexy voice. "What a glorious surprise. Is everything alright?"

A shout builds in my throat. I want to yell at her. Demand a suitable explanation as to what on earth she's looking for in such a disgusting website as this, but I stop myself, a bright idea sprouting in the depths of my mind. I want to see her face as we're having the discussion. I want to weigh her reactions - know if she's telling the truth or not. If I lose my temper with her, I might lose the chance to talk some sense into the girl.

Right? I'm handling this responsibly as I should.

No, you're not. You should be calling her father instead, you old swine.

I should be letting him handle the whole thing himself. He would have better control of the situation.

Lia's his daughter. Not mine.

Christ. Okay, maybe I want her in my office, and this is all an excuse to make that happen. Would you blame me? She's got me wrapped around her tiny, little finger. Maybe I'm so sick and horny for this little girl that I'll put myself through more torture just to be around her. But no matter how badly I thirst for her, no matter how strongly I'd like to have Lia's legs spread open on my desk, I won't let that happen. I won't let myself get carried away.

I'm going to invite her over, talk to her, fix this problem, and move on.

Through myself back into work like I always do. Wank later when I get home.

"Lia," I say cautiously, my voice sounding like the bottom of an oil barrel. Quiet. "I'm sorry for calling like this. There's... There's just something I'd like to discuss with you. Immediately. Are you downtown?"

"No. I went to the spa to jazz up and also get a pedicure. I chose baby pink, Big Daddy," she whispers the Big Daddy part and giggles. I suppress an excited growl, fondling my cock through the zipper of my suit pants. "What's it about, Big Daddy?"

"You'll know when you get here," I growl through my teeth. "Text me the address. I'll send a car."

I whip out my pocket square and wipe the sweat off my lip.

This better not backfire, because if it does, I don't know what I'll do with myself.

Leaning back in my swivel chair, I exhale as I start waiting patiently for her, willing my cock to stay still.