Baby Daddy Roomie

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Baby Daddy Roomie Page 2

by Tilly Pope


  It’s hard to find good help these days.

  “Your roomie’s cooking for you now?” Chad asks as he digs in.

  “Yeah well, she made some food and left it in the refrigerator so…”

  “So you just ate it? That’s cold, man.”

  I stare out the big picture window, thinking. Shit. I never thought about that. Maybe the food isn’t for me? God, what a dick.

  “What’s up with you?” he asks.

  “Nothing.” I hasten to tell him, “Nothing is wrong.”

  He continues to watch me as if he’s waiting for a tentacle to sprout from my head and I stare back at him, daring him to say something else. In the end, he just snorts and turns away to get a second bowl of cereal. “So you going to work or have you declared today a holiday?”

  I actually have an appointment with my tax accountant and one of my smaller establishments is scheduled for a stock-take which means I need to be there to sign off. Boring businessman stuff. People see me throwing money around and they envy my decadent lifestyle. Nobody ever thinks of the actual work that goes into making this kind of money. I work hard. I just do my best to not look like I am.

  “Yeah, I’m going to work. I’m just going to get showered and changed.”

  “You do that. I’ll drive you to your first appointment. I got a proposal crossing my desk that you might like.”

  Chad is a venture capitalist and sometimes when he thinks a business idea has a very high potential, he might loop me in.

  “Great,” I say as I head to my bedroom for a shower and a change of clothes. Once I’m suited up in my Tom Ford, and pleasantly scented with Lalique for Bentley Crystal Edition, I emerge from my room to find Chad watching Good Morning America.

  “You watch that crap?” I ask because it’s really not his speed.

  He turns his head to grin at me. “Nah man, I just couldn’t be bothered to channel surf.”

  I incline my head toward the door. “Let’s go then.”

  We head down to the car, with Chad still giving me the side-eye like he’s waiting for some major confession.

  “What?” I snap in irritation, sick and tired of his bullshit.

  “Nothing. Just wondering what’s up with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, ever since you met that chick, you’ve been distracted. Have you even gotten laid since she moved into your place?”

  I narrow my eyes at him because he’s on dangerous ground now. “Just what are you implying?”

  “I just think that maybe…you might have a little crush.”

  That surprises a bark of laughter out of me. “Me? I’m a thirty-five-year-old man, Chad. We don’t get crushes.”

  “So, what? You like this chick or what?”

  It was my turn to side-eye him. “None of your business.”

  3

  Skylar

  I stayed up too late cooking. In fact, because of the hour, I ended up hardly tasting the food. I put it in the fridge for later. I can’t wait to get home from work, put my feet up and enjoy my creation!

  After that, Julia and I can hit the club. Honestly, it’s way past time for me to rejoin the dating world. Now that I think about it, what even have I been waiting for? A bell? A sign? It’s ridiculous. I’m young, beautiful and most importantly, single.

  “Hey Nichols, quit daydreaming and take those towels up to suite 23.” My supervisor’s voice cut into my musings and I almost jumped. She’s such a pain in my ass, sometimes I think she just follows me around so she can catch me slipping. Ever since I started working here, she’s been on my case.

  Julia said she’s feeling insecure because I actually have a culinary qualification and she’s afraid I’ll be promoted over her. Well, she’s not wrong. That’s exactly my plan. Meanwhile, I collect the towels and head off to the service elevator without a word. I’m not about to start something with her - that would just jeopardize my plans.

  By the time my shift ends, I’m ready to get off my feet. I splurge on an Uber to take me home instead of waiting for the employee bus because it’s Friday and I deserve it. I burst into the house, throwing my shoes off even before I close the door behind me. I unbutton my uniform as I walk to the bedroom and throw it in the hamper. I’m so glad to be out of it. Grabbing a t-shirt, I slip it on and walk to the kitchen. The odds of anyone else being home are close to nil anyway so who cares if my panties are showing?

  I open the fridge and bend over to peer inside, looking for my dinner. The space where I left it is empty and I stare in disbelief, not wanting to accept that it’s not there.

  Where the hell is my food?

  “Well damn, the view from the back might even be better than the front.”

  I straighten up in a hurry, banging my head on the roof of the fridge in my rush. I turn around to see the owner of the rich baritone voice that had scared the fuck out of me. I’m weirdly shocked to see my landlord slash roomie, leaning his hip against the kitchen island, smirking at me. For a moment I’m at a loss for words.

  “Uh…” my mouth is open but no words are emerging.

  His dark eyes rake my body from head to toe and I think even my toes are blushing.

  “Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be home,” I swallow, my throat dry as the desert and I tug at the hem of my t-shirt, trying to make it longer than it is.

  “You have nice legs,” he says.

  “Uhm, thank you?” Something in my throat clicks, reminding me that I should probably water it.

  “What are you looking for?” he asks and I turn to look at him.

  “Huh?”

  “In the fridge, were you looking for something?”

  “Oh, uh…” I scratch the back of my head like I do when I get nervous and of course, my t-shirt rides up. His eyes immediately drop to my belly. I quickly drop my hand and say something mainly to distract him and myself. “I had some pad Thai in here. I don’t suppose you’ve seen it?”

  He looks at me sheepishly. It’s his turn to seem embarrassed. “Erm…that wasn’t for me?” he asks.

  My jaw drops open. “What?”

  “I thought you left it there for me.” He says with a shrug.

  I glare at him, trying to follow his thought processes. “Why would I do that?”

  Another shrug. “To be nice? As a thank you for the accommodations. Because you’re a great cook? I don’t know. I just saw it in there and thought it was mine.”

  My heart sinks. “Did you eat it all?” I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.

  “Well, yeah.” That shrug again. You know the one – men use it to imply that whatever stupid thing they’ve done is actually cute and you should find them adorable. You’ve seen it right?

  My anger grew just thinking about that shrug.

  “Well guess what pal, I did not leave that food for you. I was planning to come home and eat it!” By the end of my sentence, I was almost shouting.

  “I’m sorry. My bad.” He straightened up and turned as if to walk away. As if the issue was just solved with his offhand apology.

  “Oh, you’re sorry? You’re sorry? I guess that makes everything okay then.” If I was a dragon, I’d be breathing fire by now –I bang my fist against the kitchen table, my eyes shooting invisible lasers at him.

  He turns back, staring at me like he is genuinely surprised at my annoyance.

  “What do you want me to say?” he asks very nonchalantly. “I already ate the food. I’m sorry.”

  His casual manner is almost more than I can take. I’m tired, hungry and I had been looking forward to my dinner. “I want you to at least mean it when you apologize, sir! That was my dinner you ate.”

  Ayden blinked at me. “You want me to take you out for dinner? Call in a chef? I can do that. Or you can order in. It’s no big deal. I’ll pay for it.”

  I’m practically foaming at the mouth at this point and shaking my head as if that will dispel the words he is saying. “That is so not the point!”

&n
bsp; An elegant eyebrow rose and he is staring at me like I’m psycho and I almost believe it myself. I gotta admit that it’s a good look for him – he definitely has a Greek God vibe about him. “Well, then what is the point?”

  I stamp my foot…yeah I know it’s childish but I’m so mad. “Nothing. Clearly, there’s no point. Just…stay away from my food, please.” I’m muttering with pure unadulterated rage as I stomp away. He just stands there and watches me go.

  Such a jerk!

  As soon as I get back to my side of the huge apartment, I strip off my t-shirt and undies and get in the shower. I need to cool off and get ready.

  After my shower, I wrap a towel around me and sit on my bed, waiting to dry off as I think about what I want to wear on my night out. I’m still quite pissed so I decide to call Julia and tell her all about it.

  “Hey girl,” she says as she picks my call. “What’s up?”

  “Nothin’. Just getting ready to get outta here.” I sigh, audibly.

  “Really? Because you sound bummed. Do you not wanna go out tonight?”

  “I do. Just that my jerk of a landlord slash roommate stole my dinner so now I’m hangry with a capital fucking H.”

  “Ooh. That’s not a state anyone likes to be in.”

  “Right?”

  “Did he at least apologize?”

  I slap my thigh in vindication. “Right? He should have apologized right away, instead, he was like…” I adjust my voice to an octave or two lower to imitate Ayden’s voice and tone, “It’s no big deal.”

  “Ugh, men are the worst.” Julia absolutely gets it.

  “I know, right?”

  “Anyway, get dressed and we’ll stop somewhere and get you something to eat before we get to the club.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Julia.”

  “No problem. You know it’s a pity that he’s turning out to be a jerk because your roommate is cute as fuck and filthy rich.”

  “Yeah well…he’s a cute, rich asshole.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  “Exactly. Can a girl get a nice cute, rich gentleman anymore?”

  Julia laughed. “Apparently not.”

  “Well, see you soon.”

  “Bye girl.”

  I feel better after my phone call. At least I had a chance to vent and get it out of my system. Now I just have to find the right outfit so I look cute and go get me some much needed no strings attached dick.

  I decide some gold and green eyeshadow would be perfect to bring out my eyes, highlighted my cheekbones in blushing pink and then added a MAC Mocha lip to round off the color theme. I have a little off the shoulder evening number in copper lamé that goes perfectly with my makeup. I get out my curling iron and do my hair in long brunette waves before piling it all on top of my head. Gold earrings complete the look.

  I study myself in the mirror and smile, pushing my hip out and placing a hand on my waist. Great shot for the IG. I snap and upload, reveling in my freedom.

  “Girl, you so cute,” I tell my reflection before whirling around to slip into my brown and gold wedges. I intend to do some dancing tonight and I’m not planning to sprain my ankle while doing it.

  My phone beeps and I peek at it to see that Julia and the Uber are here. I grab my purse and my phone and step out. I’m surprised to see that Ayden is still hanging around watching TV. I hadn’t pegged him for the kind to stay in on a Friday night. Julia knocks on the door and I let her in as I check myself in the mirror.

  “You ready?” she asks. “Damn you look cute girl. Your makeup rocks.”

  “Thanks. Can’t wait. Haven’t been to the Regal Jewel dance club since I’ve been to town.”

  “Yeah well, it hasn’t changed much. Still has a good selection of men.” Julia grins at me and waggles her eyebrows. I roll my eyes, pushing her out of the door so we can go already.

  We stop by a Subway to grab some sandwiches and then we are off to the club. I eat carefully so as not to get sauce on my dress (or the Uber seats) as Julia speaks excitedly about what fun we are gonna have. I can’t help getting excited too, even though there is a nagging feeling of annoyance at Ayden in the back of my mind.

  He’s a jerk. But an extremely hot fucking jerk and I think I want him.

  The Uber drops us at the entrance and Julia’s bouncer friend lets us right in, and straight to VIP. It’s time to get my party on!

  4

  Ayden

  The Regal Jewel dance club.

  What a hell of a coincidence that they were going there. I’ve been meaning to stop by and see how things are. I think about texting Chad, to see if he wants to go with, but honestly, the guy’s a good friend but he’s also a bit of a cock-block. He’s a loud, brash drunk and that tends to drive the ladies away unless they’re that particular girl that doesn’t care about anything except a drink or two. Lucky for him, Chad loves that kind of girl. My own tastes run to someone a bit more refined and she just walked out my door.

  She didn’t even say goodbye.

  How rude.

  Her friend threw daggers at me though so I figure she got the full four-one-one on me eating Skylar’s leftovers.

  Like I can’t take her to the finest restaurants. Hell, I could even hire her a chef! She’d never have to work again.

  Damn.

  I jump in the shower determined to get there and make Skylar see exactly what she’s been missing. The hot water pounds on my back, heating me up as I slick down with a bar of some fancy citrus soap.

  The shower has become a haven for me. A place where I can relax and release my tension. It’s big enough to fit two people and just thinking about it makes my dick hard.

  I groan softly closing my eyes and bracing myself against the shower wall. I reach for my dick, closing my fingers around it and stroke.

  My hand pumps in a comfortable rhythm. I feel the heat rush through my veins like fire.

  Like Skylar.

  I think of her long legs wrapped around me, the heat of her cunt while I pound into her. Fuck yeah. I pump my cock harder, faster. In my mind, she’s crying out my name “Ayden! Fuck me!”

  Oh this is good. I’m deep inside her, fucking her hard and fast. The soft warm feel of her pussy excites me. I stroke my cock a little harder. I’m going to come, so I slow the pace. I want this to last.

  I arch my back against the wall, my knees shake. This is it. Her legs tighten around me and she creams all over my cock. Another stroke and I’m shooting jizz all over the shower wall.

  Holy fuck, I have to have her.

  “Fuck,” I say to myself as I shake my dick and my head in tandem, trying to get my brain back online after that mind-blowing orgasm. “You got it bad.”

  I don’t even care, man. At this point, I just wanna get my dick wet, and save myself from the perpetual blue balls that has been my life since Skylar walked into it. I don’t even know what the big deal is with this girl.

  I emerge from the shower somewhat refreshed but already feeling my dick twitch at the thought of being anywhere near Skylar in that hot outfit she was wearing. It was all I could do not to grab her, throw her over my shoulder and drag her off to bed like the worst kind of caveman.

  I’m not that kind of guy, don’t get me wrong. I can wine and dine a girl with the best of ‘em – or in this case, let the girl cook for me. And she is a very exceptional cook. Bonus points.

  I go to my room, searching my wardrobe for just the right outfit. It can’t be too pretentious as I’m not trying to intimidate her but I want to look impressive. For a brief second, I consider calling my stylist but no... that might be overkill. I settle on my slim fit black Levis with an equally dark t-shirt, and black shoes.

  Thank God it’s nighttime because the Vegas sun is a killer.

  I think I look good, as I examine myself in the mirror. I’m aware I've got a bit of the bad boy vibe going on, and that suits me just fine. I intend to be the bad boy tonight. So bad Skylar will beg me for more.

  At the last minute, I d
ecide a wingman might be useful. After all, Skylar is there with her friend so I need someone to distract her so the friend doesn’t cock-block me. Two cock-blocks totally cancel each other out. Especially if my luck holds and they’re attracted to each other. I grab my phone and shoot Chad a text.

  Regal Jewel dance club? My treat.

  I don’t have to wait long for a reply.

  Be there in ten.

  I like Chad, he’s a good sport and always ready to go at a moment’s notice. He's also a loyal friend and a damn good businessman too, so bonus. We've misspent our youth and now we’re heading to middle age – it's probably time to calm down a bit. I mean going dancing now and then is always a good idea but for thirty-five-year-old men, it shouldn’t be every Friday night deal. We know this. We're working on cutting back to just every other Friday.

  I grab my keys and my wallet and head out. I know that by the time my elevator reaches the garage, Chad will have his Maserati idling, waiting for me. He's sharply precise in his timing. He could totally get a job as a getaway driver if this Venture Capital gig doesn’t work out.

  The lift doors open and his black sleek machine is idling – as predicted – right outside. I slip into the car and we fist bump.

  “Hey man. Didn't expect to hear from you tonight.”

  “Yeah well, plans change.”

  “So, who’s the girl?” Chad asks me with a grin. I debate whether I should act ignorant but he knows me too well, and I have nothing to be ashamed of.

  “It’s the roomie.”

  Chad huffs a laugh. “So, you’re finally going for it?”

  I shrug, letting that be my answer.

  “So, all that fronting bullshit you were doing this morning?” Chad is still laughing and it’s beginning to annoy me.

  “A. I was not fronting and B. it’s still none of your business.” I’m beginning to regret asking Chad along on this excursion. Especially when he just laughs even harder as he casts me amused glances.

  “And watch the road,” I say as grumpily as possible.

  We get to the club at midnight, just as it’s really starting to get lit. The bouncer moves the velvet rope as soon as he sees us, with a very respectful nod. We enter the club to the sounds of Bruno Mars blaring from the speakers. The dance floor is full of party-goers and I wonder how I even expect to find Skylar in this mass of writhing bodies. I follow Chad absentmindedly to VIP, not really paying attention to where I’m going. I’m more interested in spotting a hot as fuck brunette wearing a short dress, her long beautiful legs on display.

 

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