Knocked Up on Valentine's Day: A Single Dad Billionaire Romance

by Amy Brent

  “Oooh, sounds cozy,” I said.

  “Nothing at work, no interaction there unless it’s necessary. Oh, and wear a trash bag to work.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “You gotta stop wearing those fucking clothes of yours. Your tits look gorgeous in them and I can’t stop staring,” he said.

  “Were you staring before all this started?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then, we’ll just blame it on that if you can’t keep your eyes to yourself. I’ll keep my eyes to myself and keep it professional, and you can brush it off as being a chauvinistic man-pig.”

  “Man-pig, got it,” he said. “There are other precautions we should take as well.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “There are many things that go into the level of business I conduct, things you wouldn’t believe. I’m pretty sure my phones are tapped on a regular basis by my major competitor trying to get the scoop on new products, which is why I’m always feeding misinformation at random points.”

  “Is that why you won’t go completely paperless? Because it drives some of us nuts,” I said.

  “That’s exactly why. If we wanna communicate in the office, we can, but we’ll need to use burner phones to do so.”

  “It’s like a regular spy movie,” I said.

  “And you can’t be listed in my phone as ‘Charlie,’ and could I be in yours as ‘L’ either.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I was just gonna put you as ‘big dicked lover’ anyway,” I said.

  “That works. I’ll put you as ‘creamy tits’ and we’ll call it a day,” he said, grinning.

  “We’re good at this. This should be, like, a side gig,” I said. “We could contract out our work to help rich people conduct salacious affairs right in the middle of their workdays.”

  “We could hold secretive workshops and help them get some hands-on experience,” he said.

  “Which is just an excuse for you to stick your dick in some more people,” I said, smiling.

  “Only if you watched, baby,” he said jokingly.

  “Hey, its ‘creamy tits,’ not ‘baby.’ Get it right, will ya?”

  We giggled on the couch for a while before the reality of what we were discussing dawned on both of us. Our smiles slowly dropped and a somber atmosphere settled over my room, and suddenly I felt very nervous.

  “We should really outline the places we can go, and maybe give those nicknames, too,” I suggested.

  “Good idea. We could call the cabin ‘vacation,’ maybe?” he said.

  “Alright. That’s good. Simple. What do you wanna call here?” I asked.

  “What about ‘home’?” he asked.

  “You wanna call my dingy apartment ‘home?’ Really?” I said.

  “If we go with a domestic trend and stick with domestic names, someone will just assume I’m developing a relationship I wanna keep away from the media. They won’t assume it’s a sordid affair if the definitions of these places are innocent,” he said.

  “Fair enough. But, what if we want to meet out of town or some shit like that?” I asked.

  “What if we called it ‘dinner’ and then I send you the address?” he asked.

  “Well, that’s fine and all, but if someone hacks this shit like the super stealth spies you claim are watching you and they find that address, they’ll just come and see us for themselves.”

  “Good point. Well, what if we didn’t do out of town at all then?” he asked. “What if we just stuck to your apartment and the cabin?”

  “That’s fine, but how would I get to the cabin?” I asked.

  “I’d take my private jet and I’d purchase you a ticket on a traditional airline,” he said.

  “You could tell me we were going on a surprise vacation and send me the time and airline or something,” I said.

  “Sounds pretty ingenious to me,” he said.

  “You’d think that about your plans, wouldn’t you?”

  “Well, that’s settled then. I’ll get you a burner phone, so look for it in the mail sometime in the next couple of days. I’m not gonna pass it off to you at work, so for the next little while—until you get that phone—no intentional communication in the office.”

  “Got it, boss,” I said, winking.

  I watched him get up from the couch and begin to put his pants on. I was nervous about this plan, reciting everything he had told me so I could ingrain it into my memory. Somehow, I knew I was gonna fuck this up. I had to write this shit down somewhere and then burn it so no one could find it.

  But, I’d seen too many movies. That shit never worked.

  I knew what I could do, I could recite it to myself in the shower tonight. God knows I’d need to take one after he’d crusted up my thighs again with his juices.

  “You alright, Charlie?” he asked.

  His voice hit my ears like melted silk, and I was immediately ripped back into the trance that was him. The truth was, I was addicted to L. His dick filled me in all the right ways and he attended to my body using motions I didn’t think were possible. Multiple orgasms were practically a given with him in bed, but I also enjoyed the conversations we had.

  I was addicted to how he made me feel in every single way, and as long as I felt I could keep up this ruse, I would.

  No matter what the hell it meant for my career.

  “Oh, I’m just splendid,” I said. “But, I’d be better if you threw me my pants.”

  “I liked that, by the way,” he said, as he tossed my jeans to me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You going commando. Do that more often,” he said.

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  “You’re insane, you know that?” he asked.

  “And yet, you can’t stop fucking me. I wonder what that makes you,” I asked playfully.

  And as my eyes rose to connect to his while I stood from the couch, a devilish grin played across his cheeks that sent shivers down my spine.

  “I suppose that makes me your doctor,” he said.

  “Doctor-patient role play, I could get behind that,” I said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for our next vacation,” he said.

  “Looking forward to it, doctor.”

  Chapter 13

  Ellison

  Every single time that woman popped up in my purview my dick throbbed for her body. I could tell she was trying to keep her clothing under control—she had traded out her pencil skirts for more flowing fabrics and she was wearing sports bras to try and minimize her breasts—but that’s when I realized she would look incredible in anything. Her wearing the more conservative clothes only made me to want to get her out of them sooner rather than later.

  And when I saw the burner phone had been delivered to her this morning, I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain myself any longer.

  I tried concentrating on work, but my pants were tenting from my dick that I couldn’t keep under control. Mike came in and distracted me for a few minutes, causing my cock to settle back into place, but then Charlie came trotting in with her hair strung up high and her skirt fluttering around her ankles. She looked radiant as she strode across my office, and for a split second I didn’t even realize she’d set something on my desk.

  “Here’s the blueprint and a thumb drive with the 3D imaging of the building you decided on. The contractors want your double-check on it right away before they start,” she said.

  “My secretary not here again?” I asked.

  “Nope. Hasn’t been at her desk all morning. Been trying to call and I’ve gotten no answer,” she said.

  “Sounds like you need a new secretary,” Mike said. “You interested, Charlie?”

  “Not a fat chance in hell, Michael,” she said, smirking.

  “I like her,” Mike said. “You should groom her to be that other shark you want.”

  “I am,” I said as I picked up the thumb drive off the desk. “You’re free to go.”

  I caught her
hips sashaying out of the corner of my eye and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this much longer. She had that fucking phone and I was about to put it to good use, I didn’t have enough time to whisk her off to my cabin, nor did I have the patience to wait until the end of the day.

  So, I got an idea.

  “You’re staring pretty hard at those blueprints,” Mike said. “Daydreaming about her tits still?”

  “I actually haven’t been feeling too well since I got back from Helsinki,” I said.

  “I figured it was just jet lag.”

  “That’s what I thought, but the headache hasn’t gone away and neither has the exhaustion,” I said.

  “You talked to a doctor?” Mike asked. “You might’ve brought something back with you.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” I said.

  “Then don’t fucking sit here, L. Go to a damn doctor. Take your fucking lunch break.”

  “Alright, can you do me a favor?” I asked.

  “Sure thing.”

  “You know about safety codes and shit, right?” I asked.

  “Yep. Want me to look over the blueprints and 3D image one last time, then call the contractors?” he asked.

  “Please. And call my fucking secretary. Let her know that if she doesn’t start warning me about taking days off, she’ll be out of a fucking job.”

  “In those exact words?” he asked.

  “I don’t fucking care. I’ll be back in a while,” I said.

  I grabbed my coat and strode to the elevator. I knew Charlie and I had agreed not to do hotels, but we did technically come up with a code name for it before we brushed it off. I pulled out the phone and looked through the hotel addresses on the other side of town we could use. I called them up just as the elevator doors dumped me into the garage of the building, and by the time I climbed into my car I had an executive suite reserved for the night on the other side of town. No one at work would travel over there just to get a room for the night, and if they did they wouldn’t spend thousands of dollars on an executive suite.

  We would be safe, we would be out of the public eye, and I could have her any way I wanted.

  Dinner in 30 minutes. 1443 Brickell. You’ve got properties to look at afterwards.

  I sent the message to her before I hopped in my car and headed across town. I zoomed and zipped through traffic stops, cutting the drive from a half an hour down to twenty minutes. My hands white knuckled the steering wheel as I thought about all the things I wanted to do to her body, but I would start by getting her out of those unflattering clothes and telling her it was more conspicuous with her change of wardrobe.

  And it wasn’t doing my dick any favors.

  I walked into the hotel and bid the desk manager a good day before I grabbed my key and skirted on up to the room. My hands were trembling with anxious nerves as I ordered room service for us both, and by the time the food got here I heard my burner phone vibrate in my pocket.

  Dinner in 5, and I’ve got the time to look at the properties.

  I smirked at her message and tossed the phone to the side. I slid my tie off and tossed it onto the bed where the strawberries, champagne, and whipped cream now sat. I could smell the freshly whipped sugar permeate the room as I dimmed the lights and closed the curtains, but the vibration of my phone again took me by surprise.

  Where is dinner taking place exactly?

  Shit, I didn’t give her the room number. How was I going to give her the damn room number without it being conspicuous?

  Oh, well. I didn’t give a shit. I was shirtless and in my slacks with my dick throbbing hard against my boxers. I didn’t give a fuck how she got up here, she just needed to fucking do it.

  In the executive room. I’ve already got our food for us.

  Hopefully she would understand what that meant seeing as this hotel only had one executive suite at the top. I unlocked the door for her and went to prepare the strawberries. I smiled as my dick twitched when I heard the doorknob slowly turn in its place.

  “L?” she asked

  “Come on in, Charlie.”

  She walked in and I could hear her gasp at the beauty around her. The room really was decadent, with a massive California-king bed with silk sheets and a smooth comforter. The bathroom was completely stocked and there was a minibar I was ready to break into with her, and I knew she would squeal with delight when I told her it was reserved for the entire night.

  “This room is spectacular,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Well, you should. And as long as you keep teasing me like you were at work, you’ll see them more often.”

  “I thought we agreed not to do hotels?” she asked. “And did I do something wrong at work?”

  “Don’t change your outfits. It’s gonna throw flags,” I said.

  “But you said my outfits made you struggle,” she said.

  “And you covering yourself up just makes me want to rip you out of them so I can see you. At least when you’re wearing your tight-fitting clothes I can catch a glimpse if I can’t control my dick. The clothes you’re wearing give me nothing to work with.”

  I poured her a flute of champagne and handed it to her as she eyed my shirtless form. I could see her stare raking down my body before she stuck her tongue out slightly and licked her lips. My dick hardened against my pants, as I watched as she drew her lower lip in, and I loved the fact that she wasn’t trying to hide her lust for me.

  “To secrets,” I said, holding up my glass.

  “And sexy bosses,” she said, grinning.

  We clinked glasses and took a sip before I ushered her over to sit on the bed. She kicked off her heels and let down her hair, and from the time she shook it out until the time she sat down I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was radiant, even in a dark, secluded room high above the city. In that exact moment, I realized what I wanted to do to her.

  “Care for a bite?” I asked.

  I picked up a strawberry and dipped it in the whipped cream before I held it to her mouth. Her plump, thick lips wrapped around my fingers, humming at the sugary goodness as she chewed and swallowed. I fed her another as I bit back a growl at the feel of her lips against my skin, but when she bit into it a trace of strawberry juice dripped on her chin.

  “Whoops,” I said, reaching out to brush it away.

  “These are divine,” she said. “You should have one.”

  “Oh, trust me. I will,” I said.

  I fed her one last strawberry before my first idea popped into my head. She was moaning and enjoying the succulent fruit and its creamy goodness as I scooped another strawberry into the cream, but this time I put it between my own lips and leaned into her.

  I watched her smirk before she wrapped her lips around the opposite end of the fruit, and just as her hands raked through my hair we both bit down and devoured one another. Our tongues battled for the juices the fruit had for us, as well as dominance over the other, and I slid her down onto her back while we swallowed the shared fruits.

  I dragged my strawberry-tainted lips over her neck while I helped her shed her clothes, and when she was bare underneath me I ran my hands up the inside of her thighs. I reached over and dipped my finger in the whipped cream, smearing it along her nipples and tracing a pattern down to her belly button while she bucked against my touch.

  Then, I captured each part of her covered in that luscious cream with my lips, licking it off her while the red tint of heat rose to the top of her skin.

  “Fuck, L,” she said, whispering.

  Her soft body was underneath my hands and I couldn’t help but squeeze every bit of excess she possessed. There was something about the way her body jiggled and molded to mine that I just couldn’t get enough of, and the moment she dug her fingernails into the muscles she could reach on me, I knew she felt the same way. My body was just as intoxicating to her as hers was to mine, and in that very moment, Mike himself could’ve busted into that room.

  And I st
ill would have pounded her hips right in front of him.

  I kissed all the way down to her delicate pussy before I grabbed another strawberry and raked it through the cream. I parted her glistening folds, groaning at the shining juices dripping from her hole, and I set the cream-covered strawberry right inside of her beautiful pussy.

  “L?” she asked.

  “Just lay back and relax,” I said.

  I massaged her thigh with one hand while I scooped some whipped cream onto my fingertips with the other, and I proceeded to coat the inside and outside of her perfect pussy with the sugary goodness. By the time I was done with her, not a drop of it would be left in sight, and if I had it my way she’d be calling out to the heavens ready for her first orgasm.

  “Oh, L,” she said.

  I dropped my lips right to her pussy and began slowly licking all around her beautiful slit. Her legs parted so willingly for me, her thighs glistening with both the whipped cream and her own, while her hands fisted the sheets. She was trying desperately not to roll into me—to not destroy the beautiful creamy picture I’d painted in front of me—but I dove deep into her depths and enjoyed how wonderful she tasted until it drove her over the edge.