My Secret Santa's Secret Baby

I had a new place in a new city and was starting a new life. I wasn't sure what I would do if my parents ever decided to cut me off— such as if I were to hook up with my older boss in real life like I was already doing in my fantasies— but for the first time in my life, the prospect didn’t scare me.Chapter Eight - SkyeI was ready for disaster. I really didn’t know how I was going to face Simon after the dirty thoughts I had had about him the night before. At least not without my face feeling like it was on fire. That wasn’t a rare experience for me, but it also wasn’t something I looked forward to having happen.

The morning was cold, the ground was snowy, the bus was late, and the bridge was amazing, as per usual. All seemed to be right with the world. Maybe things would turn out great, after all.

I could smell the bakery from about a block away, the fans turned up to 11, or so it seemed. The donut gambit hadn’t gone very well but Simon had encouraged me to try again. I just had to stick at it and things would start to look up.

I wasn’t sure exactly what was driving me so hard to make friends. The social imperative was certainly a factor and possibly the only one. Which gave me pause to wonder why.

Wouldn’t life be so much easier if a human didn’t tend to go into crushing despair when in social isolation?

“Hello again,” said the girl behind the counter.

“Hiya.”

“Another dozen donuts?”

“I thought about it but decided to take a wild risk,” I informed her. “Make it a dozen caramel éclairs.”

“Radical,” the girl said, shaking her head.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“You said it!”

Holding my newly acquired booty with both arms, I forged ahead to my destination, now feeling even more hopeful for future things to come.

“Donuts?” Sam asked, once I approached the building.

“Éclairs,” I said, as I signed the book.

It was such an old-fashioned thing to do, and kind of a pain that slowed me down every morning on my way in, but I was already starting to enjoy the tradition.

“Oh, upping the game, eh?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Good luck,” he said, with a friendly wink.

My mood considerably brightened, I strode to the elevator, feeling like I could face almost anything.

“Éclairs?” Inga asked, as I passed the reception desk.

“Exactly,” I said, confidently, as I handed her one.

“Good call.”

I was the first non-clerical worker there again. My enthusiasm for punctuation was putting me well ahead of the day. I gave a moment’s thought to hanging around, waiting for everyone else, or anyone else, to show up, so that they could see me doing my wondrous deed of kindness. Then I realized what a giant load of bullshit that was, and put the box down on the table before turning to leave.

“Howdy, stranger.”

Shit.

My face turned into a raging inferno, my cheeks blushing red. Simon was so handsome that I could die. Especially after what I had imagined us doing. I could still feel his imagined touch on my body.

“Hi,” I managed weakly, my eyes fixed on the most interesting carpet in the world.

“Donuts?”

“Éclairs.”

“Impressive.”

“Thanks?”

It wasn’t the strongest praise in the world, but I would take what I could get. Especially under the circumstances. As the department head, Simon was really the person I needed to impress if I wanted to stay here permanently. Though, if I was honest, with myself as much as anyone, future career opportunities were not the only reason I wanted to impress Simon.

I realized how silly that was. He could well be married with a couple of kids. A handsome guy like him, particularly at his age— I would have been surprised if it weren’t the case. Still, I held out hope.

Hope for what, I wasn’t quite sure. I just knew I had a need I wanted him to satisfy. I may have been a chaste little virgin, but that was mostly by training. My mind, getting freer by the day, wandering to new and interesting places, wanted not only sex but a particular kind of sex.

‘Kink’ was the contemporary, polite descriptor, although my folks had some other, more colorful words. I couldn’t quite explain it, the words not being part of my vocabulary at the time, but I wanted him to take me.

To be completely under his power.

I wanted him to hurt me but also to give me pleasure.

It sounded crazy but it was true.

I wanted to be his to do with as he liked.

“How are things going?” Simon asked pleasantly. “With the manuscript, I mean.”

“Almost done. I only have about a hundred pages left,” I said.

“Good,” he said, sounding well and truly impressed.

“I’m a fast reader,” I murmured, as though if I raised my voice, he might pop out of my life like a bubble.