Bastard Boss

“Trust me, baby. Give yourself to me, and I promise you, you’ll want for nothing.”

When her orgasm subsided he still held her, and she watched as he licked his fingers, tasting her. “You’ll be pleased to know that my penthouse has a whole lot of mirrors, and I intend to put them to good use.”

She closed her eyes, panting, sated, and completely confused.

Who was Xavier Leigh?

****

They were both completely healthy, and the doctor didn’t see a reason why they would have trouble conceiving. Xavier was damn happy about that. He couldn’t focus on work, and found his attention straying to his natural red-headed PA. Anya had surprised him with her response earlier, and he intended to enjoy every part of her.

When his staff started to leave at the end of the afternoon, his cock started to thicken at the possibilities for the night.

He’d been insistent this morning that he drive them both into work. She didn’t like it, but he wanted the chance to take her back to his place tonight. Turning off his computer, and filing several contracts away as he always did at the end of the day, he watched, and waited.

Anya flitted from the copy machine room, back to her desk, rushing all around the floor. She took her job seriously, and he found it a turn-on that she was doing it because she wanted to rather than trying to impress him. Running a finger over his lip, he mourned the loss of her scent.

After he had made her come, she’d marched him into the bathroom, and washed his hands, her cheeks a nice shade of red.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, she glanced toward him. She quickly looked away and grabbed her jacket and bag. She had a small overnight bag packed for this evening. It was a start. What she didn’t know was that that bag wasn’t going back to her place, nor were the clothes. Slowly, he’d move her in with him.

She stepped in the doorway. “How are you getting on?”

“I’m finished, waiting for you.”

Her hands were shaking as she rubbed them together. “Do you want to go?”

“Yes.”

“I would understand if you don’t want to go through with this plan.”

“We’re going through with it.” The more he thought about having a child with her, the more excited he became. He wanted to be a father. In fact, he wanted to be a father more than he wanted anything else.

She let out a breath. “Okay.”

“What about you?” he begrudgingly asked. The last thing he wanted to do was give her a chance to leave, or to pull out.

“I’m okay.” Her cheeks heated. “I can’t deny how I feel.”

No, she couldn’t.

Neither could he.

“You’re not alone.”

He grabbed his jacket and his case. There was no such thing as leaving work at work for him. He took it everywhere he went. This company was his baby, and he intended to leave it to his son or daughter.

They went through the same motions, getting on the elevator. This time, they weren’t alone. A couple was talking about an upcoming public charity event. Xavier liked to invest in charities, especially those that helped children with disadvantages. It meant a great deal to him. There was a time he had been such a child. So when people applied for a job in his company, it was with the understanding that certain … sacrifices needed to be made.

Those sacrifices could be a huge bake off, held in the local campus grounds or high schools. A dress up day where they were asked to be creative and spend the day in a costume.

Whatever raised money, he was more than willing to do.

Every year during the summer, there was an event where all of his colleagues had to vote on what they would want him to do in order to earn money. One year he knew for a fact that Anya had pledged over a hundred dollars for him to sit for an hour in a bathtub filled with beans.

Whichever suggestion got the most votes and the most money, he would double the amount, and do the deed for a length of time.

It was a good cause, and for one day, he wouldn’t be considered a bastard, or at least it was a little payback for them.

“Hello, Mr. Leigh,” the woman said, noticing him behind her.

“Evening.”

“Are you looking forward to the annual food event?”

“I am. This is a potluck, right?”