His Best Friend's Sister: A Secret Baby Romance

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His Best Friend's Sister: A Secret Baby Romance Page 22

by Natasha L. Black


  Tyler would just be getting done with his last class of the day by the time I got home. He timed his classes and work so that we could maximize the time we had together with our precious little boy. Michael was five months old as of the day before and was sitting up on his own now. The delight in his face anytime one of us walked back into a room he was in was one of my favorite things in the entire universe. I looked forward to seeing it when I got home.

  At the same time, I was feeling like I needed some time with just Tyler. The last few months had been insane, both scheduling-wise and life-wise. Aside from myself and him, Michael was only ever babysat by his grandmothers and only for short periods of time. I hated being apart from him for too long, and we hadn’t explored any overnight situations yet, and likely wouldn’t for some time. Yet, I missed being able to have a lazy evening that bled into a lazy morning with Tyler.

  Not that he had much time for laziness anymore. Between being a terrific father, his online courses, and working at the bar enough to pay the bills, he was running on empty a lot, too. A little time for just the two of us would be nice, and I decided as I pulled into the house that I would see about making that happen. Even if it was just an afternoon where we could curl up on the couch and sleep, something just for the two of us.

  When I opened the door, there were no lights on, and I sat my purse down carefully.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “In here,” came Tyler’s voice from somewhere near the dining room. I walked down the hall, and when I came around the corner saw him lighting a candle at the table. My breath hitched when I realized that everything I had been thinking, he had been, too. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes as I saw that he had already made dinner, having two plates in place and an expensive bottle of wine in the center of the table. I watched as he popped the cork and poured the glasses. “You made enough bottles recently that I think you can afford a glass or two of wine with dinner,” he said.

  “Where is Michael?” I asked.

  “At Mom’s. I figured we should take a few hours to ourselves, just you and me,” he said and made his way to me. “I even made dessert.”

  “What’s the special occasion?” I asked. “This is incredible.”

  “There doesn’t have to be one,” he said. “You are special occasion enough. But we got engaged a year ago tonight, so if you have to have something specific to celebrate, we can use that.”

  I smiled and reached up to kiss him gently on the lips.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Thank you,” he said, kissing me back. “Now take a seat, dinner is ready.”

  We sat and ate the delicious meal he prepared, laughing and reminiscing on the year that had passed. So much had transpired that it almost didn’t seem real. Our lives had changed in so many ways that it was almost incalculable, and now we sat across from each other, knowing that not only were our lives never going to be the same as they were a year before, but they would keep changing, keep growing together. Forever.

  “What about this dessert you spoke of?” I asked as I wiped my lips with the cloth napkin.

  “Ah, a specialty, and one I know you will be excited for,” he said, standing. He went into the kitchen, and I could hear him tinkering around for a moment before coming back, a huge glass bowl in one hand and a couple of small dessert plates in the other.

  “Oh my God,” I said, “is that banana pudding?”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, a wide smile stretching across his handsome face. “Homemade from your mother’s recipe, and with fresh, homemade whipped cream as well.”

  “How in the world did you get her recipe?” I nearly shouted as I reached for the bowl. “She won’t even give it to me!”

  “I guess she just likes me more,” he said teasingly as he sat down across from me again.

  “She just might,” I said, digging into the sinfully good cold cream. Suddenly, it was giving me ideas, and after a few bites, I decided I had enough of sweets.

  “I think,” I said, standing, “that I am going to go get in the shower and then maybe just lie down in bed for a little bit. Should you want my company…”

  As I began to walk away, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, exposing the long leggings that ran up my thigh that Tyler loved so much, and the thong that matched it. His grunt of approval as I swiveled my hips sent a thrill through me, and I had to keep myself from rushing to the bathroom, taking my time as I removed articles of clothing and dropped them along the hall like breadcrumbs.

  I heard him run down the hall as I started the water and stepped inside. I thought he might not have the patience to wait, and would just join me in the shower, but as I finished getting clean, he still hadn’t bombarded me. I admired his willpower. I turned off the water and stepped out, using a towel to dry off and putting my hair up in a bun above my head. I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the bathroom, making my way to the bedroom when I saw the flickering lights on the wall.

  Tyler had lit candles everywhere in the room. On every table and bookshelf there was a tealight, and the lamps were turned off. It was dark outside, so the window did no favors, leaving only the flickering yellow light of the flames to guide me to him. He lay in the bed, one muscular arm propped up behind his head, showing off the muscles on the side of his ribs. He was naked and stroking himself slowly as I approached and opened my towel. Again, a grumble of appreciation came from his chest, but he waited for me.

  I crawled onto the bed, taking my time getting to him, and dipped my head at his ankle, kissing it. I let my lips trail up his leg, slowly sliding my tongue out as I reached his thigh. He moaned as I reached the base of his stiff, thick cock, and he stopped stroking it to give me access. I swirled the tip of my tongue around him, then up from the underside. When I reached the head, I took it into my lips and flicked it with the tip of my tongue, taking in the sticky, sweet fluid that gathered there.

  I placed one hand on either side of his legs, my heavy, full breasts falling between him and my nipples brushing against his balls as I took him deeply into my mouth. I reveled in the fullness of my mouth as his cock slid into my throat, and I pleasured him as I stroked him from the base up. It only took a few moments before I realized I was dripping wet, and not from the shower. I adjusted to set my elbow down between his legs while the other slid down between my thighs.

  I touched myself as I sucked him, and it elicited a moan that vibrated on him, making him moan in return. Swirling my middle finger over my clit, I felt myself getting close to an orgasm at just the barest touch. Suddenly, it felt like the dam was about to break, and I released him from my mouth, climbing onto him and slamming my hips down onto his.

  As his cock filled me, I came. I cried out loudly, and his fingers dug into my hips as he rose me up and brought me down on him. I let him guide my motions while I rode him, slamming me down over his cock until he exploded into me. My climax only heightened as we pulsed together and collapsed into bed. I knew it was only round one, but I loved the break between, where our bodies melded into one another and we rested.

  While wrapped in his arms, I thought of how perfect my life was, and how crazy it had gotten to where it had. I also thought how I wouldn’t have changed a thing about it. Like Tyler said as he proposed, every hardship, every struggle, it brought us there, to that moment, and to every moment forever that lay ahead.

  Taboo Boss (Sample)

  Enjoyed the story? Please check out “Taboo Boss” This is book two of the series. All stories in the series are standalone, and do not have to be read in order.

  Enjoy this free sample!

  1

  Tom

  I scanned the table of investors and cleared my throat. This was going to be a breeze.

  Or at least it should be.

  “Hello, everyone,” I said, nodding at the eleven people spread out along the oval table in the presentation room.

  I’d had this room built for just this purpose, allowing me to comfort
ably host the investors all while showing off what they were putting their money into without seeming braggy. The tall windows had a terrific view of the bay, and the chairs were high-back leather and extraordinarily comfortable. It was a room designed to say, “you spent your money wisely, so keep giving us more.” It looked like it was working for them, except for one older man in the corner. I made sure to make eye contact with him as much as possible.

  “I’m glad to see we were all able to make it in person, and I’m happy with the attendance,” I said.

  “It just a mid-quarter meeting. It better be worth my time,” came the rough, cranky voice of the investor in the corner. His name was Robert C. Fuller, and he was clearly unimpressed. Not that I was at all shocked by that because being unimpressed was essentially his perpetual state of being.

  “Oh, I assure you, Mr. Fuller, it will be,” I said.

  There was a time when I would have liked to think exorbitantly wealthy people building the foundation of powerful companies had at least a modicum of self-control and decorum, but no, that was not the case.

  Mr. Fuller was the lesson I had to learn and apparently had to keep on learning. I kept reminding myself my mother would want me to be nice. She always taught me that the smartest and strongest man in the room was usually the quietest. While I wasn’t entirely sure I bought that as a blanket principle, sometimes it helped keep my mouth shut.

  In all honesty, it was probably just that thinking about my mother was what kept me from lashing out and telling Mr. Fuller I didn’t need him or his money. Working as hard as I did was for me and my own success, but there was much more than that. The bar I’d bought for my brothers to run in our hometown of Astoria, Oregon, was to make sure they could take care of our parents.

  Six months ago, we’d lost our father to cancer, but our mother was still fighting against her own disease and now against her grief as well. The stronger my business position here, the more I could provide for them and the better the life she could have. It was worth an obnoxious investor every now and then.

  “Well, get on with it, Tom,” he said.

  I snapped out of my thoughts and bristled. Some of the other investors called me by my first name as well, but I considered those people my friends. When it came from Fuller, it made my teeth grind against each other, but I didn’t show it. I gave a professional smile and turned my shoulder toward him to start the presentation.

  “Without further delay,” I said, tapping a button on my phone. The wall behind me faded and then brightened, going from what looked like a nondescript light grey wall to a screen I could control. “As you can see, our projections were for a mild increase in spending on research and development, that would be matched and surpassed by projections for sales and licensing.”

  In the corner, Mr. Fuller crossed his arms over his chest and made a grunting noise. I glanced his way but pressed on. I brought up the next slide.

  There was an audible gasp in the room, and I grinned. Several of the investors’ eyes had lit up, and I could see a few of them punching messages into their phones. Mr. Fuller in the corner seemed to not change his expression too much, but I was used to reading his poker face. Inside, he was at least mildly impressed. For now.

  I continued on, giving them the lay of the land with our current deals and partnerships and where our expenses would put us. The numbers were nothing short of fantastic, and I could see where a few of the investors were itching to possibly talk about expansion. I knew it was coming, and I felt like I needed to temper it a little. There was a lot of profit to be made before we started spending hard on growing bigger.

  When the meeting finished, the investors gathered around me to shake hands and try to schedule times to have one-on-one meetings over the next day or so. Many of them lived in the area, but a few had flown in just for the meeting and would be flying out again the next day. Amanda, my secretary, diligently took notes and scheduled appointments, and I made my way to Mr. Fuller.

  “Not bad,” he said before I even reached him.

  “I’d say it’s a little better than not bad,” I countered.

  “Still half the quarter left,” he grumbled. It sounded almost like a threat, like there was a part of him that wanted to see me fail.

  It wouldn’t be that far out of the realm of possibility for that to be exactly what he was thinking. It wasn’t uncommon for older investors not to respond well to younger men coming in and finding faster success than they did. I still had a good distance to go to get to the level of some of these men, but the millions lining my bank account came faster than was expected, and I only saw myself going up.

  “Have a nice day,” I offered.

  With that, he turned and walked away, and I stood speechless in place. Amanda came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. I turned to face her. She met me nearly at eye level in the heels that she somehow managed to work in all day, and I smiled. Amanda returned the smile and then hurriedly looked down at her tablet.

  “So, I had to schedule Mr. and Mrs. Keaton for later this afternoon as they are due for a flight to Beijing tomorrow morning,” she said.

  “Oof,” I said, and she nodded. “That’s a long ride.”

  “It is. Other than that, you are free for the next few hours,” she said, crossing something off her screen.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, walking back across the room to wave my hand over the sensor for the lights. As I did, the lights in the room shifted from a presentation brightness to a calmer, more energy-friendly dimness.

  “I could go for lunch. I only had a bagel this morning,” Amanda replied.

  “Then off to lunch. My treat. Come on, I have a standing reservation at June,” I said.

  We stepped into the restaurant and took our seats near the back. June was my favorite restaurant on the strip where our office building was located, and as such, I visited a lot. I had even developed their app on the side, just to keep myself busy one week. I refused payment in lieu of always having the same table available to me as long as I gave them fifteen minutes’ notice. Knowing them, I could give them none, and they would toss customers out on their ear if they needed to in order to seat me.

  As we sat and ate, we chatted about the meeting, and specifically Mr. Fuller. Amanda was an animated talker, and I enjoyed listening to her rant about how rude the old man was. I knew she was too much of a professional to say anything like that outside of my company, but I got to see the real Amanda.

  For the last six years, I had grown to rely on her to keep functioning at my best on a daily basis. Not only was she a model employee, but I enjoyed her company on lunch breaks and business retreats. She was invaluable, and I appreciated her presence and her ability to make my work life much easier.

  As we spoke, I tossed out an idea, using her as my sounding board as I often did. Together we began to cobble together a few ideas that could double our profits for the remaining portion of the quarter. This way I could show Mr. Fuller exactly how wrong he was to be so pessimistic. And maybe he’d stop calling me Tom.

  When we got back to work, I went into my office and dove into the paperwork for the day. Usually, I hated paperwork and would procrastinate doing it until the end of the day, but I was in such a good mood I wanted to knock it out and celebrate a little. Suddenly a thought hit me, and I pressed the button on the side of my phone and asked Amanda to come to my office.

  Moments later, Amanda arrived at my door. I looked up at her tall, curvy frame and for a moment, noticed how pretty she was. I shook my head to toss those thoughts away.

  “Amanda, did you send out those emails this morning?” I asked.

  “Knocked that out when I got here,” she said.

  “Awesome.” I shook my head as I looked down at the papers on my desk. “I do not know what I would do without you.”

  “Oh, you know,” she said, waving me off, “fail miserably and be lost at sea. Something like that.”

  I laughed loudly and she giggled, one hand moving up to re
st on the doorframe for a second. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and took a deep breath in. Her smile dazzled from across the room.

  “So, is there anything else, or did you just call me in here to grill me about something you could have sent a text for?” she asked, teasingly.

  “No, that’s all. You can go back to… doing whatever it is you do when you’re caught up on all my insanity,” I said.

  “I am never fully caught up on your insanity, Mr. Anderson,” she said through a grin. Something about the way she smiled and said my name made my stomach tighten. “But I manage to find things to fill any downtime I do have.”

  “I am sure you do. Thank you, Amanda,” I said.

  She nodded and turned, heading back to her desk in the bullpen area of the upper floor. I made sure that her desk was never too far from mine due to her incredible value to me. But today I was almost sad I hadn’t put her desk on the other side of the room, just to have a few more moments to watch her walk away.

  Her ass was tight under her skirt, and I couldn’t help but stare at her as she walked to her desk and then slid into her chair. Her long legs, in black stockings, crossed at the heels as she opened the jacket button in the front and leaned down over her desk and turned on her tablet. My thoughts wandered into a territory that wasn’t exactly uncharted, and I chastised myself for it immediately.

  I was her boss. I had to remember that. There were rules about how a boss and an employee were supposed to interact, and no matter what actions I may or may not take, thinking like I was thinking was dangerous. No matter how hot she looked, I needed to keep my eyes straight ahead. She was the forbidden fruit.

  I couldn’t even have a taste.

  I got home just after six, the rush-hour traffic holding me back and reminding me daily of the biggest downside to having such a prominently placed office. I preferred to live a little further out, still in the city, but in a quieter area of town.

 

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