My Bad Boy Boss's Secret Baby

“I wanted to give you your jacket back.”

“Thanks,” he said, gabbing it.

He caught sight of my breasts, much more on display than in the overalls, let alone the oversized jersey.

“Fuck,” he whispered, quickly looking away.

I tried not to laugh, that being exactly what I would have liked to do. Not that I actually had the nerve to say so.

“Something wrong?” I asked innocently.

“Nope, nothing at all,” he said, stealing another look.

“Would you like to go for dinner?” I asked, my voice only slightly shaking.

“How about my place?”

“Sure,” I said, unable to contain my excitement.

I had no idea what I was doing. Despite growing up around lots of different vehicles, there weren’t a lot of trucks. Leading to a spot of embarrassment as I tried to scramble up into the passenger side of Chad’s truck.

“Here,” he said, before taking me by the hips and basically lifting me up onto the seat, closing the door behind me.

I didn’t weigh a lot, but I was still impressed by his strength. I could only imagine what he looked like under those plain black T-shirts of his.***

I knew it was prejudiced, but I’d expected something simple. Steak or burgers, maybe with fries. A pickle if he was feeling fancy. A lifetime, short as it had been, eating the best food possible had done something weird to my taste. Reaching a sense of overload, I was pretty sure I would hurl if I had one more morsel of fancy stuff. I was yearning for some ordinary home cooking. For the change if nothing else. Chad met me halfway. Homemaking a pizza, though doing it in such a way that I’d never tasted anything like it.

“I fried the crust in oil first. You have to use a cast-iron skillet, or it won’t come out right,” he explained, as though reading my mind.

“It’s wonderful,” I gushed as we sat on his couch.

“You’ve never had pizza before?”

“Not like this. The cooks had a different sensibility.”

“Cooks? Plural?”

“Um, yeah,” I said, not having the time or energy to come up with a lie, bad or otherwise.

“I take it you’re not talking about your mom or sisters.”

I just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and it all came flooding out like a dam burst.

“No, I’m an only child, um, now. I grew up with cooks and drivers all that. My dad is actually interested in classic cars. He owns several, in fact. Including Jaguars and at least one Rolls-Royce. I’m not a rich bitch. It’s my dad who is rich, not me. I have nothing, really. Not without him.”

I stopped suddenly, all the energy gone from me. I leaned forward, unable to hold myself straight. It felt so good to admit it. To admit everything. Good and also scary. I’d told him everything. Laid my soul bare, not knowing how he was going to take it.

“I know,” Chad said, laying a gentle hand on my trembling shoulder.

“You do?”

“Well, I knew something was going on. It wasn’t likely you were a usual grease monkey, not like Will or me. I believe you’re interested and can’t deny that you’re good, but there is no way you grew up with it. Your overalls are clearly new. I’ve had the same set for fifteen years. Your nails are too neatly trimmed, and you're just a bit too posh.”

“Posh?”

“Elegant, how you carry yourself. I’m guessing you had posture lessons.”

“Had to walk with a book on my head. It was ridiculous.”

“Right, and you’re eloquent. Your speech a bit too clean and precise and the manners. Nothing like what I was used to where I grew up. You probably know which fork to use.”

“Yep,” I admitted staring at my Flash Gordon placemat, “is that going to be a problem?”

Chad made me look at him, his eyes full of both passion and a measure of empathy.

“No.”

He pulled me into a passionate kiss. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me as our tongues performed their erotic dance. My performance was even more confident than the first time. I’d been paying attention and tended to learn fast.

“I can’t resist you,” he said reluctantly, pulling back.

“Then don’t,” I said, overjoyed.

“I want you to stay the night,” he added.

“Yes,” I said, it sounded like the best word in the world, “but you should know something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, sounding a bit concerned.

“I-I’m a virgin.”

Chad lightly stroked my pussy through my jeans, as though trying to test this. My response was instant and hard. Gasping while pushing harder against his touch, desperate for more.

“I-I’m a bit shocked, to be honest, though I promise to be gentle,” he said sweetly.

I responded by pulling my jeans and panties down to my ankles and spreading my legs as far as I could.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, gazing at my glistening pink pussy.

Starting at the shin, he kissed his way up my right leg, placing his warm palms on my bare knees as he went. I could feel my skin getting warm as he kissed and licked his way up my inner thigh. Blazing a tender trail up to my untouched pussy. I was both shocked and delighted at how good it felt. Unable to imagine anything better. At least until the first touch of his tongue to my tender pink folds.