by Jamie Knight
“And when they are surrounded by love.”
I thanked my lucky stars that I had been able to meet a man like Bradley, someone that I truly loved and could build a future with the way that I had always wanted. I was glad that everything had worked itself out perfectly and couldn’t wait to see how our lives would be once the babies were born.
I yelled out in surprise as I felt a kick on the side of my belly.
“I guess the babies are just as excited about tonight as we are,” I said, putting Bradley’s hand on the spot where I had felt the kick.
We sat for a few moments until we felt another kick. It was Bradley’s turn to jump with surprise. Then, he leaned his face close to my belly.
“Hey there, little guys,” he said. “It’s me, your dad. I can’t wait to show you everything that I know. And I can’t wait for you guys to see your amazing mama. She’s going to be the best mom ever.”
He smiled at me and my heart swelled with pride.
Love had found me unexpectedly and I couldn’t have been any happier.
I had decided that I was going to put off school for a while, at least until the boys were older. I could finally do what I had wanted to do before I had even considered what to take in school: be a stay-at-home mom and wife to a wonderful husband.
Grace laughed about how I had gotten my dream life without even trying. And she was right.
It was truly a dream come true and I was grateful for every second of it.
Extended Epilogue
Two years later
Natalia
“Finally, we have the whole afternoon,” Bradley hummed at me seductively.
To be honest, it was indeed a miracle of timing. My dad was away with work for the next three weeks. Bradley’s cousin Adelle had been planning a long trip to see us and the twins ever since they were born over a year ago. At the last minute, Adelle’s cat came down with some kind of kitty cold, and she refused to leave him. But not before insisting on taking the twins back with her, all the way to Tennessee.
Bradley was not having it, however. With his job as a mechanical higher-up in the brand spanking new wind turbine factory, he had “plenty of cash to throw” at his problems, as he told me. He paid for the cat to be flown here, rented an Air B&B for Adelle and the beast to sleep in and sent over the twins for extended visits that never went overnight. My dad would FaceTime with them every night, no matter which house they slept in.
Everyone was happy. I loved that part of our new family life—figuring out to juggle all of life’s little pieces into some kind of whole that each one of us could draw happiness from. I saw that skill in my mother before me, and I am still learning it from her mother.
One year ago, right after the boys were born, I got one of the biggest surprises from my grandmother, the one responsible for raising my own mom into the amazing woman I remembered. With zero notice, she up and moved to the next town over from ours. Now only a 30 minute drive away, Grandmama was our rock, with recipes, baby advice, and of course with keeping the boys.
And I was learning so much about our family ways from her. Making preserves, canning pickles, carving a hog—I was becoming quite the expert in the kitchen. So much so, I could freestyle these traditional ways into my very own personal style.
Now that Bradley was back from dropping off the twins to stay with Adelle until bedtime, it was time to show him my latest feat of knitting.
“Stay right there,” I playfully ordered, my index finger poking his naked, perfect chest.
I knew I was pushing it. He’d been telling me since yesterday how furiously he wanted to pound me without worrying about waking the kids. But honestly, I needed it more than he did. He’d been taking up archery again, except now that he was a man, he purchased his bow, arrows and target, instead of making them by hand with household items.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, watching him tense that incredible chest while drawing back the arrow in bowstring. I got wet just watching him from the large windows looking out to the backyard while I nursed Liam and Graceson, even while chatting with visiting friends or relatives.
But now we were all alone.
I left Bradley standing there, tensing and raring to pounce on me like a ticking fuck bomb. I ran to our bedroom and yanked open my knitting bag, where I knew my surprise would stay hidden since Bradley had negative interest in it. Carefully, I lifted up the delicate stitches of my hand knitted crotch-less and nipple-less bikini set.
I’d found a soft yarn that matched my flame-colored hair perfectly and a pattern online for the sexiest flowery, flowing bikini that offered no barriers to getting fucked royally while wearing it. The strings of yarn still framed my hips, but the crotch had a nice wide opening. I hoped it would survive Bradley’s elephant cock. The top piece had the same concept, delicate straps and flowing lines, but the center of the bikini cups were left open for easy nipple-licking.
I half-danced, half-strode back to the hallway where I left Bradley. When I peeked my head around the corner, I saw he stood unmoved, still ready to leap on me. I snaked my long leg out to his view, then wound out an arm before stepping out. Now in his full view, I rolled my hips, still dancing and locking with his eyes.
He never looked so hungry. He eyes devoured my supple body, unchanged by childbirth and delectably dressed up for a merciless, full-fledged fucking. He took in the sight of me grinding up to him, rubbing my soft skin and garment along his hard, marblesque frame. He took a breath, ran his hand along my face, trailed fingers down my chest and gently squeezed my tit. He kissed me slowly, and deeply, fingering my nipples and reaching down for my wet wanting clit.
I was already a flood, watching him watch me with his full eight inch cock growing fatter than I’d even seen before.
It was quiet, like the calm before a storm. We were mesmerized by each other’s eyes while tracing only the most delicate touches on each other’s most sensitive body parts. I crouched low, suddenly, to tease the tip of Bradley’s cock with the tip of my tongue, flicking and flitting, but never more.
That did it.
As I stood to kiss him, he popped into action. He grabbed my hips in both his hands and lifted my body from the ground. He lunged into a rabid kiss in my mouth, walking us both to the nearest wall.
“Get ready.”
He didn’t need to say more. I soaked up the sight of him, ravenous for my sweet pussy. Now that I was pressed hard against the wall, he pulled back his hips and slid perfectly into my tight slit, not too fast, not too slow, but perfectly, sure and complete. I felt so full as I arched my back, eyes heavenward with his lips on my nipple and his cock pumping my deepest center.
Bradley pounded me against the wall, eating up the vision of my body taking his sheer strength and force. My breasts were huge and hard and bounced firmly with each thrust of his commanding loins. I took it all, without words, only panting and grunts, for what seemed like an eternity.
I never wanted the delicious hammering to stop.
Soon, Bradley’s cock began to feel even thicker and I thought I was going to die of pleasure right there.
“Yeah! Give it all to me!” I both demanded and begged.
His hips went into fast overdrive and I lost all ability to form words as I gave in to the thunderous fucking Bradley was giving me. He took me, body and soul, as my pussy caught fire and my climax spilled over with glowing, melting bliss.
Soon after, he began to growl and erupt himself. I delighted in the waves of unending orgasms he gave me. I’d never felt so hot, like a creature made only for the pleasures of our flesh. Mutely, he continued humping my limp body. I loved every second.
After a few minutes of much needed recovery, I found my voice usable once again. Bradley was lying on his back, eyes closed. It was like he felt my eyes on him. His opened, right on me. He rolled to my side and gathered me up in his arms.
“Thank you,” was all he said.
“For the bikini? Hey, it was my pleasure…”
<
br /> He chuckled, then smoothed my hair and kissed my temple. “And also for the amazing life.”
I giggled and snuggled against him. It was true. We had more than I’d ever dreamed. And more kept coming. Next semester, after the boys were old enough, I was officially going back to school, thanks to the insistence of my best friend Grace. Life really held promise and hope in every corner. I never felt so lucky and charmed.
That was, until Bradley spoke up again, nibbling my ear.
“Hope you’re ready for Round 2 in T minus five, four, three….”
Life with my dad's best friend may have started out rocky, but it turned out to be an incredibly amazing journey.
THE END
Office Pet
His Pet Series Book 1
Copyright © 2018
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Reese
I stopped in front of a garish canvas called Apocalyptic Sunrise and tilted my head to the side. Perhaps I wasn’t cultured enough to understand the concept, but the oil painting looked like something a five-year-old on a sugar high would paint.
“You could at least smile, Reese.”
Simon lowered his head until his lips were a whisper away from my left cheek. A severe case of halitosis billowed from his mouth. My stomach roiled and the leftover pizza I’d wolfed down before I met him for our “date” threatened to make an exorcist-style reappearance.
I stepped away from him and feigned interest in the splashes of orange and yellow smeared across the canvas.
So much for my seven years of bad luck coming to an end. I’d had nothing but shitty dates since the day I’d broken my handheld mirror.
Almost seven years ago, on the day I’d graduated from college, I’d discovered that my then boyfriend was the campus Lothario. When he came groveling and begging for my forgiveness, I picked up my mirror and hurled it at his head. He ducked. The mirror slammed against my dorm room door and shattered.
To reverse my bad luck, a Wiccan website suggested grinding the broken mirror shards to dust and scattering them in the wind. That bright idea had left me with a scratched cornea and bits of ground up glass in my hair for weeks.
Since then, I’d had nothing but bad luck in relationships, and was superstitious about everything. I avoided walking under ladders, I knocked on wood, I never opened an umbrella inside, and I always threw a pinch of salt behind my shoulder when I cooked.
And, if I could have, I would have hidden beneath the covers every Friday the 13th until it became Saturday the 14th. But since I had bills to pay, that level of strict adherence to anything and everything that could help me avoid bad luck was out of the question.
I’d tried every old wives’ tale that had come up in Google search results in an attempt to change my luck with men, but nothing had worked.
Cleansing my chakras hadn’t worked, neither had visualizations, love spells, crystals, or burning sage and incense.
Over the past few years, I’d given up on men and had focused on building my career instead of my personal life. Accounting compliance wasn’t glamorous, but, being an OCD freak, I enjoyed designing and implementing programs, policies, and procedures.
I also loved, loved, loved internal investigations and uncovering potential breaches of policies and procedures. Most people thought I was more than a little weird about work.
I didn’t disagree. But I also didn’t really care. Numbers didn’t require luck. They required logic and they were something I could control.
I’d met Simon Harper through work. A month ago, McKenzie Technologies had gobbled up Hillock Accounting Services, the small investment firm I’d been with since graduating college. I’d worked my way up from lowly accounting clerk to compliance manager.
I was better than good at my job and being part of a massive company like McKenzie Technologies was a challenge I’d grasped with both hands. But McKenzie Technologies already had several compliance managers, both senior and junior, with more waiting in the wings.
Until I proved myself, I was stuck maintaining a database on state and federal statutes and regulations for investors.
“Most women would be thrilled to be on a date with someone who earns as much money as I do,” Simon bragged.
Sidling up to me, he slid an octopus arm around my waist. If he told me one more time how much money he had in the bank, I’d rip the framed and very heavy looking Apocalyptic Sunrise off the wall and slam it over his fucking head.
He was trying way too hard to impress me. I was less than impressed, but men like Simon were too self-obsessed and arrogant to notice any disinterest.
“I guess I’m not most women.”
I stepped away from him and moved onto the next painting— Dark Days. Again, I didn’t understand what the artist was trying to achieve with this creation. The canvas was filled with red and black splodges.
Maybe I wasn’t cultured or creative enough to understand abstract art.
“You’ve got that right,” Simon said with a snicker.
The pizza in my stomach churned at the innuendo lacing his words, and I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes and say that most women would have run away from him by now. But instead of blurting out something bitchy, I glared at him and hoped he’d get the message.
Simon was the chief regulatory compliance officer at McKenzie, and one of my bosses. Over the past few weeks, every time I’d passed by his office, he would call me in to tell me about his car, his lake house, his watches, or some other materialistic thing that was supposed to get me down on my knees and sucking his cock.
There was no denying he was a good-looking guy— if aging frat boys were your thing— and if he wasn’t such a jerk, in the right light, I guessed he could be kind of sexy.
On paper, he was everything a woman could want: tall with broad shoulders, blue eyes, coffee-colored hair, and a smile that belonged in a toothpaste commercial. But he was also slimier than a lubed up slug.
He thought all women should swoon in the presence of his greatness. When I’d said yes to this “date”, he’d caught me at a bad time.
The night before he’d asked me out, my vibrator had died, and I had no AA batteries— it was so not what I’d needed while masturbating to my favorite porn clip. I blamed that disaster on accidentally walking beneath a ladder outside my apartment building on my way to work.
When Simon asked me for what seemed like the millionth time if I would accompany him to the art exhibition, I was frustrated and horny, so I said yes. Big mistake. Huge.
No matter how often I’d attempted to cancel on him after that, he’d talked me in circles, guilt tripping me to death and reminding me of “prior commitments” and “keeping one’s word”. And now here I was walking around a gallery looking at paintings way above my pay grade with a man who was obsessed with his own importance.
All day long, I’d been dreading seeing him. I should’ve texted and said I’d caught Norovirus or the plague or leprosy or something, but instead, little old people pleaser me did what I always did. By that I mean that I did something I didn’t want to do so that I could keep someone else happy.
Maybe part of me thought— hoped— that perhaps one on one he wouldn’t be as arrogant as he acted in the office in front of everyone.
Wrong.
So incredibly wrong.
He was just as arrogant now, with a touch of narcissism thrown in for good measure. I sure could pick ‘em, and pick ‘em I always did.
It’d been eons since I’d gone on a date. The constant disappointment wasn’t worth putting myself out there. My reasons for always saying no were long and cringe-worthy.
There was one time when my old work bestie Maya had set me up on a blind date. It turned out it was with the cop who’d given me a ticket the day before. The cop I’d called a jerk. The cop I’d given the finger to as I drove off.
There was also the ti
me when my date showed up with his parents. His mom asked me if I believed in sex before marriage. When I said I did, the more sex the better, she barked at the server to box up our barely touched meals— mine included— and stormed out of the restaurant with her son, my date, running after her like a naughty schoolboy. I was stuck with the bill.
Then there was the guy I’d met on Swipe. He said he was divorced and had no kids. During dinner, his fuming wife stormed into the restaurant, with their two kids in tow. She told me he was bipolar and was in the middle of a manic episode.
That debacle was two years ago, and it was also the last time I’d dipped my toes into the dating pool. Sometimes I could be a glutton for punishment, but even I knew enough was enough.
The only problem was that no dates meant no sex.
Not that I minded not having sex with the metrosexuals and crazies who’d crossed my path. And it wasn’t like the sex I’d been having with the few semi-fitting men I’d dated was very good.
There were things I craved and the older I became, the more I ached to satisfy those cravings.
Most men would have bolted if I’d asked any of them to spank my ass or pull my hair. Hence my need to watch online porn to vicariously live out my fantasies.
While my self-administered orgasms scratched an itch, they weren’t the same as having a man’s throbbing cock between my legs. I was giving up hope of that ever happening again.
“Look,” I said, trying to remain sweet and cool. “Can we both just agree this was a mistake and call it a night? We have less than nothing in common.”
He selected a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, took a sip and then narrowed his eyes.
“I can’t believe you’re scoffing at an evening out with me, and while we’re surrounded by such fine art, on top of that. I almost asked Jenna from reception. But your tits are bigger than hers and your ass is, too. I like a woman with some junk in the trunk.”