CEO's Secret Baby: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance

by Natasha L. Black

  “Okay,” she said slowly, “We’ll have to do that after the holidays.”

  “Go have your shower. And lock the door if you don’t want me to join you,” I said archly. She lifted one eyebrow and kissed my cheek.

  When the photographers and stylists arrived, they set up lights, arranged our seating, fluffed up Jessica’s hair. She was glowing. Her complexion, her glossy hair, and mainly that bright, confident smile that told me she was happy and content. We posed a hundred different ways, and Tybalt the triceratops even made an appearance in one family photo. I loved the fact that we were doing pictures, the way it seemed to cement our family in a way, the outward signs of union, the proof on the wall that we were a cohesive unit. It was so fresh and new.

  After the pictures were done, we had an early dinner and read some books by the fireplace. David and Jessica drank hot cocoa, and she leaned against my shoulder as I read a holiday book to David. She was so tired that she was practically asleep before David was. I kissed her softly, carried her up to our bed and covered her with a blanket. I stayed up late working in the other room, but when I finally went to bed, it meant the world to me knowing she was there. The way she sighed when I got under the covers, the way she turned towards me in her sleep, as if her body sought me out, wanted the warmth and closeness as she slept—all of it was impossibly wonderful.

  The cook, Jessica and David baked cookies for hours on the morning of Christmas Eve. The driver delivered those and several pots of soup to the soup kitchen where she volunteered. We had all served food there the previous Sunday afternoon. It was a good thing for David to learn, and as Jessica pointed out, it wasn’t a bad thing for me to roll up my sleeves instead of just writing a check for the less fortunate. Although I did both before the day was over.

  There were sparkly sugar crystals in everyone’s hair when I sneaked into the kitchen to steal a cookie and check in on them. There was something deliciously rich about the cookies that made them different—sour cream and almond extract according to Jessica. She had ideas about doing seasonal events at her future restaurant and cookie decorating was one of them. David had loved trying that out, helping her decide between water icing—too messy—and royal icing for the designs. To me, all the ones David did looked like wagon wheels, but he swore they were snowflakes. He also ate sprinkles directly out of the jar.

  We had David’s favorite pancakes for supper, made by Jessica just the way he liked them from the diner. She hadn’t resisted giving up that job. She made time to see her friends, to have lunch with them or go shopping. There was talk of hiring Nicki to work for her catering side business still using Red’s kitchen sometime after the babies were born. Even though I’d offered to rent her a commercial space to cater from if she wanted, or to buy her an existing catering business, she had her way of doing things and I learned to respect it. She wanted to ‘dabble’ in catering for a while, she said. Once the baby was bigger, a toddler perhaps, she’d think seriously about her own business.

  Jessica wanted to take time to enjoy this season of our life—this new, growing family. It was sort of wise, lovely instinct I’d come to expect from her. The kind that had spurred me to hire and train a chief operating officer to take some of my workload at the company so I had more free time for my loved ones. She had taught me to see things differently in some ways. Just like David showed me every day the ways he was growing and changing, and I didn’t want to miss any of that. I had no reason to work long hours at this stage with the success I’d achieved. It seemed arrogant to continue to act as if I were indispensible every single day at the company I’d built. There was no point hiring and training good people if you didn’t trust them to do their jobs. Trust had been a major sticking point for me for a very long time. Yet I was learning.

  When it was almost bedtime, I climbed the stepladder beside the tree and David took the silver and gold star out of its box. It was made of twists of wire, intricately woven in swirls and ready for the top of our tree. Little by little, David climbed up the steps beside me until he balanced on the top of the ladder.

  “Ready?” I asked. He nodded.

  “I think so.”

  “Your job is to put the star on the very top. Can you do it?”

  “Yes. I’ll do it. I just wish I had Apatosaurus neck to make it easy.”

  “That would look so weird in the Christmas pictures though,” Jessica said.

  I picked David up, held him up so he could reach the topmost branch. He adorned the star up on the tree, and I eased him back down. He scrambled down the ladder and joined Jessica at the base of the tree to admire his handiwork.

  “It’s absolutely perfect,” she said.

  I climbed down and put my arms around them both, “It’s the best tree ever. Great job, buddy,” I said.

  “I have to put out cookies for Santa. And juice. Because milk would get gross if it sets out,” David said, and hurried to the kitchen.

  Jessica helped him arrange a tray for Santa and set it up beside the tree with some carrots for the reindeer.

  “They can have all my carrots for the whole year,” he offered.

  “You can’t live on just pancakes,” Jessica said, “but we can share some carrots with them.”

  She read him a book about Santa and we tucked him in. I loved standing at the end of his bed, my arm around her waist, looking down at him as he closed his eyes. I kissed her temple.

  “Thank you for this,” I said, “for everything. I can never thank you enough.”

  “Then don’t thank me. Show me,” she said with a mischievous smile I adored.

  Leading her out into the hallway, I dipped my head to kiss her neck in the spot that made her shiver and arch her back. As I kissed and sucked on her neck, my hands roamed her body, the curve of her spine, the swell of her stomach, the full, sensitive breasts. I felt her nipples go hard at my touch, knew the shudder of pleasure that licked along her skin then. I slid my hand down to her hip and pulled her closer so she could feel the hardness of my erection.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and I moved my mouth to hers, parting her lips, stroking my tongue inside her mouth with fervor as she clutched at my arms.

  “So do you want to watch me do push ups?” I teased as I led her up the stairs. She shook her head.

  “Then what would you like?” I said, my voice low, her eyes darkening with desire.

  I pulled her into our room and locked the door. She ran her hands up and down my chest greedily, “I want you.”

  “That’s a start. What else do you want?” I said, unzipping the back of her dress and letting it pool at her feet on the floor.

  I tugged my sweater over my head and let it fall. I unbuckled my belt and freed my erection as I kicked away my pants. She gave a moan at the sight of me, because she made no secret of loving my body, of loving the way I got so big and hard for her so easily. I gave my cock a stroke a little proudly, enjoying her gaze, her hunger as I stalked toward the bed. She scrambled up the mattress a little, never taking her eyes off me. She unfastened her bra and threw it aside, her breasts magnificent, fuller now and exquisitely sensitive to my barest touch. I crawled over her and licked her nipple, a light flick from the tip of my tongue that made her toss her head on the pillow.

  I was going to give her rapture. I would make her beg and scream this night. The knowledge fueled me with a mix of arousal and ruthless patience. I brushed my tongue along her nipple once more, and as her body started to rise, I moved up and kissed her collarbone, her shoulder. Her hands were on my back, holding me, wanting me there. It was a magnificent feeling. One I would never tire of.

  “First, let me rub your feet. You said they were hurting earlier after all that baking,” I said teasingly.

  I moved down the bed, took her bare foot in both my hands. I pressed my thumbs into the arch of her foot, massaged as she gave an approving noise. I switched feet, and then moved up her legs, rubbing and massaging as I went. She started to grow wet. I could scent her arousal in th
e warm bedroom. I wanted to taste her. It was a heady, overwhelming scent, sharp and sweet, and I wanted it in my mouth instantly. I would have to deny myself a few minutes longer just to build her desire, to make certain her arousal was at a fever pitch before I ate her into a screaming climax.

  I massaged her calves, kissed the delicate crease at the bend of her knee. She was already twisting on the sheets from the attention I lavished on her feet and legs. I wanted to make this last as long as possible. It was a special night for us, and I wanted to do everything in my power to make it completely unforgettable for her.

  Once my hands strayed above her knees, she parted her thighs. The soft flesh of her thighs responded to my touch, and I could see that her bare sex was flushed, plump from excitement already. I couldn’t resist. I reached up with only one finger and dragged my fingertip lightly along the length of her seam. She quivered at the touch, wetness coating my fingertip. I smiled in satisfaction. She rolled her lips under to keep from making a sound. I wanted to rub her sex, finger her until she was screaming just as punishment for withholding her response from me. But I wasn’t so cruel.

  “I want to hear you, Jessica,” I said. She shook her head, trying to keep quiet.

  “You know who will win this game, darling,” I said. I stroked her stomach, watched her hips writhe and felt her stomach muscles tense at my touch. “There, see how you want it? Just make a sound for me. Let me know you like it,” I coaxed, trailing my fingers down her stomach, over the swell of her mound. Her soft flesh was swollen there, tender with arousal. I pressed and felt her legs jerk, but she remained silent. I shook my head, “That will never do. A man likes to know he’s accomplishing something. I suppose I’ll have to rise to the challenge and make you get loud. You know how I can make you scream. You remember don’t you? The night we had the house to ourselves and I sucked your clit and you screamed so long I thought you would lose your voice or pass out. I think we’ll just have to try something like that, to get you to come out of your shell and make some noise for me.”

  “I love this game,” she gasped.

  I spread her thighs, ran my palms up the inside of her soft flesh to the heated dampness between her legs. Just stroking up and down her thighs made her sex flush darker red, tantalizing me, making me want to kiss those plump lips until one or both of us came. Because when I could sense her desire like this, when she played with me this way, denying me the satisfaction of her moans, it was all I could do not to cream myself like a teenager. She got me so worked up this way, and she knew it. I loved that she knew what she did to me.

  Before I began touching her in the place she needed me most, I crawled back up the bed. I took her mouth with mine, soft and wet and open. She sighed as I kissed her that way, so loving and erotic at once. Her arms were around my neck as she whispered my name.

  “I love you,” I said to her, my lips tracing her jaw, “I love you.”

  “I love you,” she said, breathless, “I love you.”

  “Will you give in just a little, moan to let me know if you’re getting what you need? You know how desperate I am to give you exactly what you need?”

  “Yes,” she said, practically a whimper, “I need you.”

  “Anything you want,” I said, kissing her lips again just as tenderly and lightly as I had kissed her passionately before. I went back to massaging her thighs, working my way up to the crease of her hips where my feathered, fingertip touch was too much for her. She was barely able to stifle a mewing sound. I knew it. Then my fingers began the gentlest, most purely sexual massage, parting and rubbing her folds, pressing and stroking. Jessica trembled at my touch, still holding out until I traced the seam of her sex with my thumb.

  “Yes!” she cried, “more, please…”

  Gratified by her response, by that emphatic yes, I pressed my lips to her pussy, kissing and lapping with my tongue. She reached for my hair, her hips twisting until I held them still with my big hands. Truly, my cock was so hard it was painful, and if I rubbed against the mattress a little for relief, it was just so I could last longer for her. I pressed kisses to her most secret places, then draped her lush thighs over my shoulders and licked her clit in full, long strokes. She was very close, whimpering, switching restlessly from gripping my hair to twisting her fingers in the sheets beneath her in desperation.

  “Please, please,” she pleaded, her voice high and reedy. I closed my lips around her clit, working the underside of that sensitive bud until she screamed, bucking beneath me. She shook all over, sobbed and reached for me. I held her close, both my arms wrapped around her. Orgasm undid her, left her feeling chilled and vulnerable. I loved to hold her then, to remind her that I would always hold her, always protect her. I told her I loved her as she nestled into my chest. When she stopped trembling, when she lifted her beautiful flushed face to be kissed, I felt like the luckiest man on earth.

  “How did I ever get so lucky?” I said, wonder filling my voice.

  “You made me fall in love with you,” she said, her voice still a little slurred, her silly giggle at the end giving away her almost drunken reaction to coming so hard.

  “I could never let you go,” I said.

  “You never have to,” Jessica told me.

  She touched my cheek, kissed me sweetly on the lips.

  “Now, lie back,” she said, and stretched out on top of me, “and enjoy.”

  Jessica parted her thighs to straddle me, and worked her way back onto my cock. It set off a kind of fireworks inside me when she reached back and tucked me deep inside of her, taking all of me to the hilt. I was shaking at the sudden depth of penetration, the way she consumed me, tight, wet and open for me, her walls slick with silken arousal from earlier.

  “I want all of you, my love,” she said, “give it to me.”

  She stretched out at full length above me, her hands lacing with mine. She canted up a little to kiss my lips, but the only thing between us was this inexorable rocking. I penetrated her and rocked, trapping her against me with my arm wrapped around her locking our hips together. She rose on her arms, pressing into my shoulders with her palms as she rolled her hips forward and back on the length of my cock. Her wet sex consumed me, and I felt breathless with it, with the complete possession she took of me. I wanted it so desperately, to come inside of her, to have these tight, sweet folds envelope me.

  But first, a kiss. A slow slide of my tongue, wet and deep into her mouth mimicking the way I thrust my long cock into her sex even as I held her tight against me. I kissed her so long I couldn’t even draw breath any longer. There was only the push and pull between us, the perfect fit of my cock inside her, the way I filled her, the way she completed me, the grip of her fingers on my heavy upper arms. She was gasping, grinding her pelvis against me. I brought my hands to her face, kissed her more, softer and wetter, a live, sexual kiss between us that both stoked and quenched my desire. I gave her slow, tender thrusts of my cock in the tight folds of her wetness. The velvet heat around me was overwhelming. I ran my hands up and down her naked back in luxuriant strokes. I whispered words of love and admiration, persuasive words until I felt the jolt of her sudden climax. Her inner muscles clamped down on my surging cock, milking the orgasm from me, taking me into ecstasy beyond my control. I said her name over and over again until she covered my mouth with her kiss. I kissed her until my body stilled from the tremors of my powerful climax. We held each other close. I drew the blanket over us because I knew she would be cold after the exertion and release.

  Jessica nestled against my chest, her head fitting just below my chin so I could engulf her, hold her against me as closely as possible.

  “I love holding you,” I told her.

  “I love you holding me,” she said, “do this forever.”

  “As a matter of fact,” I said, “I have plans along those lines.”

  “You do?”

  “First, go to the closet.” She looked puzzled, but she got up and donned the beautiful shell pink silken robe
I had ordered for her.

  “This is so soft,” she said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. But it’s hardly the point,” I said, pulling my pants on and fastening them.

  “And what is the point?” she teased.

  I dropped to one knee before her.

  “The point is that I wanted you to have a romantic proposal. A story you can tell our children that doesn’t involve you having to edit out the part where we were naked when I asked you to marry me.”

  “What?” she said. I laughed.

  “I’m doing this very badly. Shall I try again? I love you, Jessica. More than anything. More than life. If you will have me, I would be honored if you’d be my wife. Will you marry me and make me the happiest and luckiest man alive?” I said.

  I had thought she would weep, would burst into tears and I would have to console her and ask again. I underestimated her once again. She smiled, a beaming beautiful smile.

  “Yes,” she said, “I’d love to.”

  I surged to my feet and took her in my arms. I held her, kissed her passionately, hugged her to me. The jolt of pure elation and joy caught me off guard. I had known she would accept the proposal, but some part of me must have feared a rejection. Because her immediate yes brought me such boundless joy that I couldn’t begin to describe it.

  “Thank you,” I said, “For giving us another chance, for letting me prove to you that my love is strong and my commitment to this is real.”

  “You had me going with that financial trust business,” she said. “Talk about a red herring. I thought, here I am pregnant with your child and you’re raving about all your awesome stock options that I can liquidate at will or something. Like that’s the commitment you give me? That’s your formal gesture? I came super close to flipping you off. Because that was not exactly the kind of romantic declaration I was looking for.”