My Boss Daddy: A Billionaire Boss Daddy Romance (My Daddy Series Book 3)

by Lena Gordon

  7

  Brittany

  Lunch.

  Lunch.

  He wanted to have lunch with me.

  What the hell did that mean?

  My pussy pulled with what I hoped it meant, but there was not a small part of me that worried he was going to tell Mr. Grant about what had happened between us.

  Shit.

  I swiveled side to side in my chair, back in Mr. Grant’s office. What I really wanted to do was pace, but if someone happened to walk by and see me, it would be too hard to explain. At least I had the distance of a separate office between us. Being around Mr. Thomas was way too heated. There was way too much connection between us. Way too much sexual energy. Just hearing his voice made my panties wet. And I could see the way I affected him. There was no hiding that hard cock. Especially when it was pressed up against my ass.

  Which was why I couldn’t figure out what he wanted to talk to me about. And why over lunch?

  Clearly there was something between us. Something there shouldn’t be. Something that could get us both in a lot of trouble if we let it get out of control.

  Or happen again.

  Oh, but I wanted it to happen again. I almost moaned at the thought that it might not. That he might shut our little affair down before it really got going. Before he stuck his thick, hard cock inside me.

  “Ohhh.” I clamped my lips together. I had actually moaned. Out loud. What the fuck was wrong with me?

  The ringing of the phone startled me out of my obsessive worry and I grabbed it up by reflex. “Mr. Grant’s office. Brittany speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Brittany, what’s going on over there?” Mr. Grant’s voice boomed over the line and instantly I froze.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Grant?”

  “What’s going on over there?” He repeated himself. “I take few days off and I have to hear about you and Trent Thomas from Wendy in marketing?”

  My stomach roiled violently and I almost threw up right on the spot. “I…I’m sure I…well…I can explain, Mr. Grant. You see, it’s not something I normally do, but I was in the copy room and—”

  “I’m told that you and Mr. Thomas make quite a team over there,” he interrupted me as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “I hear that you’re doing your best to help him settle in and from what I understand, I might have to worry about losing my best assistant to him.” There was a lightness and a cheer in his voice I’d never heard before. It had to be the new love in his life making him happy because I’d also never known Mr. Grant to joke or try to trick me.

  Ever.

  I took a breath and let my heart rate return to normal as Mr. Grant started asking me the routine questions that he usually went through when he was out of the office. As the conversation was closing, I began to hope that I might be able to get away with keeping my job after all, but I also had a new resolve to be careful.

  And if Mr. Thomas didn’t fire me or threaten to expose me, I was going to be the one to put an end to things before they really began and could get me into some real trouble. I had a good thing going with Mr. Grant and MultiTech. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Not if I wanted to keep working on my art. This job was a means to an end. And I intended to get to that end one day.

  “One more thing, Brittany.”

  “Anything, Mr. Grant.”

  “It’s come to my attention that the apartment Mr. Thomas was supposed to be renting upon his arrival to town isn’t ready yet. He’s staying at the Plaza.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” my boss continued. “I told him to stay in the company penthouse. He’ll be working some late hours in the coming months. He might find it more comfortable to stay on the premises.”

  “The company penthouse?”

  I didn’t mean to sound so obtuse. After all, I did know of the penthouse. I’d been up there only one time myself, but only to check it out. No one ever stayed there, although it was prime real estate, being as it was on the top floor of the MultiTech building. And apparently Mr. Grant thought it might be useful in situations just like this one.

  “Yes. I want you to make sure it’s comfortable for him. Have the fridge stocked, some fresh flowers brought in. That kind of thing. Will that be a problem, Brittany?”

  “No.” I stammered and pulled myself together quickly. The instantaneous thoughts I had of Mr. Thomas only a few floors above me, naked, with me standing at attention in his door….

  NO.

  I couldn’t let myself indulge. Because the truth was, if Mr. Thomas was staying in the company penthouse, well, that only made things…easier. Didn’t it?

  No, I chastised myself. I needed to finish the call with my actual boss before I disconnected. That’s what I needed to focus on. My actual boss. My paying job. The job that let me do what I really wanted to do. Which was art. The truth was, if I could, I would paint full-time. But I couldn’t.

  Not yet.

  I had so many paintings. Enough for a showing, really. I just needed the gallery, any gallery, to give me an opportunity to showcase my work.

  If I could only have my own show…I just knew I’d be able to sell enough pieces to make a go of it.

  I just needed the one big break.

  And that’s why I was busting my ass at the gallery and breaking all the rules, risking everything to make copies on company time. It was all for my future. And that’s how I could justify it, too. If I could just do enough volunteer work for the gallery. Print enough flyers. Bring in enough high rollers. Then maybe—just maybe—I’d have my own show.

  At least that’s what Stan kept promising me.

  The fact that Stan was a slimy son of a bitch who probably just wanted to get into my pants more than he wanted to give me a show didn’t matter. Because I knew. I just knew that no matter what every other person told me, it wasn’t true. I’d win him over. I’d get him to give me a show based on my merit alone. And not my tits.

  “Brittany? You’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Grant,” I said, pulling myself together. “I’ll get the penthouse freshened up right away and ready for Mr. Thomas.”

  “I knew I could count on you, Brittany.” I could feel the pride in my boss’s voice. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I’m sure you’d manage some how.” I forced a cheerfulness into my voice that I didn’t feel. Because try as I might to put it out of my head, I just didn’t know what Mr. Thomas was planning with our lunch later in the day. It could ruin everything.

  Or it could just be the start.

  8

  Trent

  The morning was full of phone calls, files and one very successful meeting with what Brittany told me was the best real estate agent in town. After she left my office, I was confident she was. She’d already narrowed down my potential office spaces and we’d set up an entire day full of viewings. Which served two purposes: the obvious, but also getting me out of the office and out of the way of temptation.

  Which was the real goal.

  Just a few minutes in the same room as Brittany, and I wanted to push her up against the wall, ruck up that tight little skirt and fuck her until we both screamed out.

  I needed to regain control and quickly.

  I glanced at the clock on my desk. Almost lunch time. Asking Brittany for a lunch meeting was probably a bad idea. No, it was definitely a bad idea. But it would afford us an opportunity to discuss the situation between us in a public place, where I wouldn’t be tempted to take her sweet ass in—no. I grabbed my coffee cup and gulped down whatever was left of my cold coffee. It tasted terrible, but it was exactly what I needed to focus on the problem at hand. Not Brittany and the way I’d found her with her tits out and her ass on perfect display in that tiny, tight skirt.

  Shit.

  I pushed up from my desk and grabbed my phone. I still had thirty minutes. Long enough to get up to the penthouse Shane had generously lent me, take care of the raging
erection that was currently driving me to distraction and pull myself together before my lunch meeting with Brittany.

  I punched my code into the panel in the elevator and rode it the short trip up to the penthouse.

  I hadn’t been in the suite yet, but I was suitably impressed with not only the fine furnishings and trendy yet tasteful decorations, but also with the little touches that had been placed throughout. There were fresh flowers on the kitchen counter and the dining table. A basket with a variety of snacks, wine and coffee selections sat in the kitchen, and…

  A sound from the direction of the bedroom caught my attention.

  Someone was in the suite.

  No one else had the code. Shane had assured me of complete privacy. On guard, I moved quickly and quietly down the hall, ready to confront the intruder. My heart raced, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could have called security, but the chance at a little physical altercation to release my pent-up energy was too appealing. A solid punch or two to whatever asshole thought it was a good idea to break into my suite would be just the thing I needed.

  But as I rounded the corner, ready to confront whoever was in my space, I froze. It wasn’t an intruder at all, but a now, very familiar ass up in the air as she knelt on the master bed, smoothing the duvet cover below her.

  Brittany.

  My cock reacted with force at the sight.

  I just couldn’t get away from the woman. Even when I tried to do the right thing, I was constantly confronted with temptation.

  Maybe that was the right thing?

  I cleared my throat and crossed my arms over my chest. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of finding you in my bed, Miss Donoghue?”

  She startled and immediately flipped around onto that perky backside. Her arms behind her, holding her up, forced her breasts up in the air. Her breath came fast and scared, but her face morphed from an expression first of fear to worry.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Thomas. I was just getting things organized for you and I didn’t expect you to be up here…and don’t we have a lunch meeting? Oh my God, am I late? I didn’t realize I was going to be so long up here. I just was trying to get a few things ready for your—”

  “Enough.” I held up one hand, silencing her. “You were prepping my room?”

  “I was.”

  I considered that for a moment. She wasn’t up here to seduce me. It would have been nice to think she was up here, in my suite, naked and waiting for me. In fact, it wasn’t an image I was ready to dismiss readily.

  “We have a lunch meeting.”

  “Yes.” She scrambled to her feet and smoothed her skirt. “I can meet you in the company restaurant if—”

  “No.”

  She stopped and looked at me in question. “No?”

  “No. Let’s have the meeting now.” I knew I was playing with fire, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. “I think I can say what I need to say right now.”

  I kept my arms crossed, the look on my face stern. More to keep myself in control than to intimidate her. I’d made a split-second decision and I wasn’t about to wait even one more minute before discussing what I needed to with this woman. It would just be a short little conversation. We’d set the ground rules. I’d make myself very clear about my expectations and we’d carry on. Because there was no way I was going to be able to let her walk away from me without sliding my fat cock inside of her wet pussy. I was a man used to getting what I wanted and that’s exactly what I wanted.

  She straightened and met my eyes. “Okay.”

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush, Brittany. What happened yesterday can’t—”

  “You can’t fire me.”

  Her strong, direct tone caught my attention instantly and took me off guard. “Pardon me?”

  “I said, you can’t fire me.”

  Gone was the submissive girl who’d happily taken my cock in her mouth and sucked until I’d filled her mouth with my hot come. But I liked this new, stronger version of Brittany, too. Because it was clear this Brittany needed to be taught who, in fact, was the boss.

  Intrigued in her change of tone, I played along.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t fire you. You’re not mine to fire. But you are mine.”

  It was her turn to look shocked. “Pardon me?”

  I took a step closer to her. But just one step. I needed to make sure we were on the same page with how things were going to go from here on out. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Brittany. The moment you called me Daddy, you knew.”

  I saw it in her eyes. She did know exactly what I was talking about. I knew enough to know a woman who’d play my game when I saw one. But it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be cautious.

  “Am I wrong?”

  The shake was slight. But her head moved from side to side ever so slightly. “No,” she whispered. “You aren’t wrong.”

  “Good.” I took another step. “But we’re going to need a few ground rules first.”

  She nodded and what she said next made my cock pulse with need in my pants. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Fuck.

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” I took another step closer and stroked the back of my hand down her cheek, trailing my fingers to the open collar of her shirt. I let my fingers trace the edge of her skin. Much to my pleasure, it pebbled and tightened under my touch. I knew without looking her nipples were peaked and ready for me to suck between my lips. “Now, for the rules.” Deftly, I pushed the top button of her blouse through the hole and exposed the delicious swell of her breasts. “One. No strings. This isn’t going to go anywhere. Understand?”

  She nodded and I stroked my fingers deeper into her cleavage, pushing under the lace of her bra.

  “We’re not going to get married,” I continued. “We’re not going to live happily ever after. I don’t do that. Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Her breath came in quick puffs now. I popped another button.

  “Good. Rule number two.” I quickly moved to the rest of the buttons and opened her blouse fully so I could gaze at her perfect, pert tits. “You don’t tell anyone about us. You do, and I go straight to Shane Grant. We’ve been friends since college. I won’t have that impacted. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  Using my thumb and forefinger, I pulled one hard nipple between my fingers and tweaked and rolled it, making her moan.

  “Anything else?”

  I could tell she was ready for more. Ready to take it to the level we both wanted.

  “One more.” I gave her nipple a pinch for good measure. “You call me Daddy whenever no one is around.” I knew I was taking a risk with that one. Someone could overhear us at any time. But I couldn’t help it. The risk was part of the appeal. Besides, it was worth it. Because every time those sweet lips uttered that one simple word, my dick got harder than it ever had before. The need was intense, the desire raw and pure.

  9

  Brittany

  Three simple rules. That was it. I could agree.

  Of course I could agree. And I would, too. Because more than anything, I wanted—no, I needed—him to push me back on that bed and fuck me until I couldn’t see straight.

  I wasn’t a promiscuous girl. Hell, I barely dated at all. In fact, it had been months since I’d seen anyone, and even longer since I’d felt the touch of a man. But that wasn’t what was driving my desire. I’d never before felt such a pull to a man. Such a need. And that was the only way to describe it. I needed him to touch me, to kiss me, to put his hands on me.

  I would agree to anything as long as he promised that.

  Even putting my job in jeopardy. What he was asking was risky. We both knew that. I could see it in his eyes, too. But maybe, like me, he felt it was worth the risk.

  “You want me to call you Daddy?” I repeated. “In the office?”

  “Whenever no one else is around. Can you
agree to that?” His fingers hovered over my breast and the nipple he’d been teasing. I wanted his touch on it again. I wanted him to squeeze it and pinch it and suck it between his lips and—

  But could I put my job on the line? What if someone heard me? What if—

  “Brittany? I need an answer.”

  “Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Daddy.” I emphasized the word and pushed my tits out farther.

  His response was immediate. His big, strong hands were on my tits at once. He pushed the lace of my bra down and freed my heavy breasts. His mouth was on my already throbbing nipple. The other, pinched between two fingers of his other hand.

  The sensations tore through me, my panties soaked from the attention on my breasts. I moaned and ran my fingers through his hair, holding his head to his task.

  Daddy quickly moved to the other breast, giving it equal attention until both of my nipples ached in the most delicious way. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at me.

  “Meeting adjourned. Take off your clothes.”

  I loved his demanding, take-charge tone. A man who knew what he wanted and was not afraid to go after it. Had I ever been with a man like that?

  No.

  The answer was clear. I’d been with boys and what I was dealing with now was a man.

  I took a few steps back and did as I was told and quickly shed my blouse and my skirt, revealing the lace panties and garter that held up my thigh-high nylons. I’d always liked sexy lingerie. It was my one guilty pleasure that I afforded myself besides canvases and paints. Even if I only wore it for myself, at least I had the secret knowledge of what was under my clothing. It always made me feel strong and sexy.

  “Did you wear this for me?”

  “No.” I shook my head and answered honestly. “I wear this for me. Do you like it?”

  “Fuck yes.” He’d taken a step back to admire me and I could easily see the tent in his pants that said he did, in fact, like what he saw. “But I’d like it better on the floor.”