by Jamie Knight
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…”
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
My Dad’s Rival’s Secret Baby
Copyright © 2018
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Mariah
Excerpt
I head back to the guest room in Wesley’s mansion, wearing only the towel. When I step into the room, I’m surprised to see that Wesley is still there. Or, rather, maybe he left and came back while I was in the shower.
“Oh,” he says, dropping a robe that he was holding onto the bed. It is fluffy and white – like those comfy ones at nice hotels. “Sorry for the intrusion. I just thought you might want to wear this robe.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, with a smile. “But what if I don’t?”
“I’m sorry?” he asks, his eyebrows raised up towards each other in confusion.
“What if I don’t want to wear the robe?”
This is it – my bold invitation for him to hit on me. The ball’s in his court now. He could take my question to mean that perhaps I’d rather get dressed in normal clothes. Or he could take it for what it is…
…and he does.
“You mean, what if you don’t want to wear anything at all?” he asks, a smirk crossing his thick, handsome lips.
“Exactly.”
“Well, I think that can be arranged.”
In two steps, he’s crossed the small length of floor that was separating us, and he’s dropped the towel from my chest. I love that he took charge and did that, rather than leaving it up to me to show my naked body to him.
It’s so much different than the younger guys I’ve dated have acted. I begin to realize there’s a reason I never wanted to lose my virginity to them. I wanted someone older, wiser, more experienced… I was waiting to meet someone like Wesley.
He looks down at me and lets out a low whistle.
“I knew you were gorgeous, and I’ve loved staring at your curves in the office, but I had no idea you looked this good under there,” he says, putting his hand on my ass and squeezing it, just like I’d imagined him doing while I was in the shower.
He bends down to kiss me, and his tongue is eager and strong. I wrap my own up with it, and we make out like high schoolers.
“I love your round ass and those perfectly plump tits,” he says, as he pinches
my nipple and then bends down to suck on one of them. “I can’t believe I’m so fucking lucky as to be able to taste you.”
He bends down a bit further and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. At first, it’s just like I fantasized about in his shower moments ago, but then it gets rougher, wilder – and I like it. He walks forward and pins me up against the bedroom wall. I hang there, with my naked legs around him, his pelvis leaning into my wet, aching pussy while he hurries to take off his belt and pants.
“You want me in here, don’t you?” he asks, reaching down to grab my pussy lips between his fingers.
“Yes,” I moan, breathing into his ear.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir,” I beg. “Please. Please touch my pussy. Please fuck my pussy.”
I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth – or that I’m talking to my boss this way. I just can’t seem to help it, though. No one has ever made me feel this good before, or this dirty in a good way.
Looking down at his fingers as they rub my clit, he asks me, “Does this feel good? Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I tell him, as he kisses me again and puts two of his fingers up inside my pussy hole. I’m so wet that his fingers are immediately drenched in my juices.
“Look how much you want me,” he says, as he looks down at my wetness all over his hand, while rubbing my clit nearly to the point of making me cum. “This little pussy feels so tight. Have you ever…?”
He looks into my eyes now, and I shake my head, with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
“You’re a virgin?” he asks, looking as if it’s too good to be true.
“Yes,” I nod, my feet gripping his ass cheeks as my pussy clenches tighter against him, because it wants him to change that.
“No one has ever touched this sweet little pussy of yours?” he asks, as he continues to play with it. “It’s all mine for the taking?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer. “It’s all yours. I want you to take it.”
He bends down to get a condom from the pocket of his pants. As he hurries to put it on, I marvel at the sheer size of his cock. I wonder if I can take it.
But soon, its head is up against my pussy and I’m leaning back against the wall, while his mouth is nibbling on my breast again. He’s holding his dick in his hand, teasing me with it while he chews my nipple.
“It might hurt a little bit,” he tells me. “But then it’ll feel good. I promise. You ready?”
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
In fact, I’ve never been more ready. I know we shouldn’t be doing this because he’s twice my age, he’s my boss, he’s been my dad’s rival for a long time, and he doesn’t even know I’m the daughter of his biggest competitor, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t even want to. I want him to fuck me, for my very first time.
Chapter 1
Mariah
It’s finally time. I’ve earned it.
The thought just keeps ringing through my head as I walk down the street. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not rushing to catch up with something, or someone. I’m finally locked in, and I don’t have to worry. The restaurant is just up the block, I’m fifteen minutes early, and this is going to be the biggest night of my life so far.
I pause by a shop window to do a last appearance check - what my friend Lisa calls a ‘dummy check’ - for smeared lipstick, tangled hair, running eyeliner, stains…anything that could be seen as unprofessional and end up as a deal-breaker for the client. It would be funny that I’m approaching tonight like a business meeting, but in my mind, that’s exactly what this is.
My navy blue dress, the same shade as my eyes, is clean and wrinkle-free. Makeup, on point, just like it’s been since I perfected my styling techniques at seventeen in my high school’s bathroom mirror. (Mom never approved of what she called ‘fanciful’ accoutrements like lipstick or concealer. Please, like I’d ever let that stop me.)
My blonde hair is just a bit tousled from the wind, and it’s falling gracefully to either side of my neck, framing the purple gemstone necklace I’d chosen to accent the outfit. Good. Let’s go. You’re ready for this, Mariah.
I head down the street and step inside Allesandro’s Restaurant. The door slides silently closed behind me, and as my eyes adjust to the artful low-light of the dining room, the noise of the city streets vanishes.
“Welcome to Allesandro’s! Do you have a reservation?” The young, perfectly coiffed host smiles at me, the kind of smile that I’m overly-familiar with, as I’ve dealt it out myself probably hundreds of times. The one that says, your answer to my question will determine just how important you are from this moment forward.
“Of course.” I return the smile. “It will be for Harper. I think I’m the first one here.” That’s modest. I know I’m the first one here, because he always arrives exactly ten minutes early to every engagement he attends. I still have three whole minutes to spare.
“Ah, here you are.” The smile has shifted, from I hope you're important to I know you’re important, please remember me when you tip. “Follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”
I don’t really need him to lead me to the small, elegant booth on the back wall of the dining room, but I let him have his moment. It’s the same booth we always use - he requests it specifically, for whatever reason.
“Thank you,” I say, brushing my hair back from my forehead.
I’ve felt his eyes roaming up and down my body since I walked in, and I have to bite back the instinct to call him out for it, especially considering the ring on his left hand. Tonight’s not the night for drama, I remind myself. Something better is coming.
I perch on the edge of the booth, eyeing the door.
“Can I get you a drink to start off with while you wait for the rest of your party?” Host-Guy asks.
“Glass of red, please. Dry.”
He nods, and heads across the dining room, leaving me to my staring contest with the double doors. I realize my knee is jiggling. Nervous habit I never managed to shake. I put my hand on my knee and take a few deep, steadying breaths.
I’m ready for this. I know I am. I’m sure of it…until the doors open and my father steps into the room. And he’s not alone.
My dad, Charles Huston. The richest and most prolific real estate mogul in the entire city. His stoic face, grey hair just starting to spread from his temples, has been a familiar sight on billboards and in newspapers for years now. He crosses the room and holds his arms out for a hug.
“Mariah! You’re early!”
“Early is on time,” I say, and he joins me in finishing the sentence, “and on time is late.”
“I knew I taught you well.” Dad kisses my cheek and straightens his tie. I can’t remember the last time I saw my dad without a suit… when I was a kid, I used to think that he slept in one.
“I thought it was going to be just us tonight,” I say, nodding towards the man who came in with him, still standing back a few feet from us, waiting.
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
He turns to the man who entered the room with him. He’s younger, probably in his late thirties. His face is hard, and even in the low light of the restaurant, his hair gleams with some kind of product. I can practically feel the grease on my fingertips just looking at him.
“Mariah, this is my new business partner, Charles Franklin. He was with Honeywell’s company, but we poached him away, didn’t we Charles!”
Charles nods, a grin curling the corners of his lips. “What can I say,” and here he slips into a terrible approximation of an Italian accent, “you made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Dad claps him on the shoulder. “Leave the gun, take the cannoli, my good man!”
Just then, thankfully, the Host with the Most comes back bearing my red wine in a long-stemmed glass. We all slide into the booth and I sip my wine as Dad and the new guy order their drinks as well. Be patient, I remind myself. Dad hates being rushed.
“How was traffic getting here, Dad?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“You’d have to ask my chauffeur, sweetie,” he says, without looking up from the menu on the table. “You know I never spend time on things like traffic reports. Especially on a day like today.”
Here, he looks at me, a soft smile on his face. Just a hint of the father behind the businessman showing through.
“You know, when I was first starting out,” Charles interjects, “I biked across Midtown every morning to get to work.”
“That’s certainly dedication. Just another reason I’m so happy you joined the team,” Dad says.
I just nod along. I’m not sure why, but Dad’s new Teacher’s Pet is rubbing me the wrong way already. After tonight, it’ll all be worth it, though, so I push my annoyance away.
“Yes sir. I’ll tell you, I’ve never had stronger calves in my life, but it sure could be a pain when it rained!”
My dad laughs, and I smile politely at Charles. The waiter comes back with their drinks. Dad raises his glass.
“A toast, if I can.” As if it was a question. Charles and I raise our glasses as well. “To family and friends, new and old. And to new beginnings.”
Everyone clinks their glasses together, and drinks.
“So, Mariah, your dad tells me that you’ve just graduated from college?” Charles asks.
“Yes. Well, not just. I’ve been out of school for almost six months now, and I’ve been shadowing my Dad at the company since I was, what, ten?”
“That’s my girl. We like to say she got her degree in business, but she got her real education from me.” Dad sips his scotch, chuckling.
“Well, in that case, I really do envy you.” Charles inclines his glass of white wine towards me. “I’d have killed to get to watch your father work and learn from him for so long.”