A Baby for the Boss

“No, don’t do that.”

“We’re going on a date, Missy,” he responds adamantly, his hand framing my face. “Don’t take it away from me, please.”

“I’m not.” Why are my lungs having such a hard time operating? Is it the way he’s looking at me? Like he’s worried I’ll disappear? “I c-could come with you. To the game.”

The tension ebbs from his shoulders. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He kisses the crown of my head, then my nose. Then my mouth where he lingers for several seconds, tasting me. Nudging my lips open for mutual licks. “I’ll be at your place at noon.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

Can’t believe it. I’m going on my first date.

First and last.

Why does the reminder that my arrangement with Turk is temporary suddenly hurt so much?

Four

Turk

Oh my God, she lives in the fucking White House.

Okay, not exactly, but it’s close enough in size to be confused for the presidential dwelling. Through the windshield of my truck, I stare though the gate to the long driveway beyond—and I see Missy waiting on the steps. When she spots my truck, she stands up and waves enthusiastically, no idea that she’s supposed to make me knock. Make me sweat while she takes another half an hour to get ready upstairs. No, she’s one of a kind, this girl.

My boss.

My billionaire boss.

God help me, I’m in love with her. Might as well toss my heart into shark-infested waters right now. I can’t add anything positive to Missy’s life. She has everything. She could marry an action hero or some tech genius. What is she thinking letting me get her pregnant? I get confused during Wheel of Fortune. And what’s worse, I’m spending extra time with her in the futile hope that she falls for me, too.

Never going to happen, pal. You’re just delaying the heart break

I reach the top of the driveway and put my truck into park. I look down at the bunch of daisies on the passenger seat and curse myself for not buying roses. For some reason, I just had a hunch she would like the daisies more, but now that I’ve seen her extravagant house up close, I’m wondering if I was wrong. Too late to change it now.

Flowers in hand, I climb out of the truck and approach Missy where she stands, shifting side to side in a pair of sneakers. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and man, she’s wearing this little white tennis skirt that instantly hardens my cock. Although truth be told, it’s pretty much been hard off and on since we grinded that orgasm out of her yesterday in the break room.

Christ almighty.

I’ve never, ever seen anything or anyone so abandoned in my life.

I swear, there has never been a more beautiful sight on planet Earth than this gorgeous virgin bouncing up and down on my dick and calling me Daddy. Yeah, I’ve had to come to terms with that as well. I’ve never been into any kind of role playing or age gap shit. But that’s the thing, it doesn’t feel like playing. It’s real. It’s a connection with her I wasn’t expecting. Daddy. And it makes me feel powerful and protective and alive.

I’m going to die when she’s tired of me.

“Hi,” I rasp, my balls growing heavier the closer I get to Missy. Swear to God, by the end of the day, they’re going to be ten pounds each, but I wouldn’t let myself jerk off last night. Or this morning. Even though I woke up with enough wood to build a canoe. If my girl wants a baby, she’s getting as many of my swimmers as I can muster.

Jesus.

When is that happening?

Are we going to fuck tonight?

As badly as I need to get inside of her, I’m also panicked, because once I’ve given her my sperm, that signals the end of our arrangement. My plan was to drag this out as long as possible in the hopes that she starts to feel something for me, but I almost died yesterday denying myself her pussy. No way I’ll be able to do it twice.

“Are you feeling okay?” Missy asks, looking concerned.

“Yeah, cutie.” I hold out the bouquet of daisies in my fist. “These are for you. I didn’t have time to go back and get the roses—”

“Daisies.” Her smile is so radiant, it almost knocks me on my ass. “My room has daisy wallpaper. I love them.” Suddenly she can’t look at me. “You brought me flowers.”

“I’d have brought you a Ferrari if I could.” Reel it in, pal. “But it looks like you don’t need anyone to buy you a car. You can do that yourself,” I say, gesturing at the house.

She follows my line of sight, but twists away from it just as quickly. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Do you like living in there all by yourself, Missy?”