Mister Daddy: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  “This is so cool, Carter,” she exclaims. “Thank you so much for this.”

  We continue the tour, and with every stop, Abby is genuinely interested in the things I show her.

  “You’re really passionate about this ship,” she says when we get to the main deck. I’d just finished explaining how we revolutionized the deck layout for the best guest experience possible.

  “Sorry. Am I boring you to death?”

  “No,” she says with a hand on my arm. “I like hearing about your passion, really. You spent hours out in the water with me, listening to my love for scuba.”

  “I loved hearing about that.”

  “And I love hearing about the ship.”

  I bite my tongue before I can tell her that it’s not just her passions I adore. It’s her.

  17

  Carter

  The ship docked in Miami before sunrise this morning.

  When I got the text that we were tied down, Abby was sleeping in my arms. I hadn’t slept at all. My mind kept racing with how this goodbye was going to go.

  I’ve never had to say goodbye to a woman before because I’ve never cared enough. Sure, I gave them jewels as a good-bye gift but it didn’t mean that I cared. If anything, I was buying them off so that they would leave in peace. But with this girl, it’s different.

  “Morning,” Abby says with a yawn. “Have you been up long?”

  Since last night, I think. “No,” is what I say out loud. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Okay, considering it’s my last night in your bed.”

  “Let’s not talk about that yet. We still have a couple of hours left before you get off the ship.”

  She nods, her eyes glassy. “Okay. I need to go pack up my things, anyway. Can I meet you later for a proper goodbye?”

  “In my office in an hour?”

  “Okay.”

  Abby gets out of bed to dress, and I give her directions to my onboard office. She leaves after a quick kiss. With her gone, I set an alarm for thirty minutes and attempt to get some sleep, but it’s useless. The alarm goes off without me getting a second of sleep, so I get up and get dressed for the day.

  Miss Havisham is already in the office when I arrive ten minutes later.

  “Morning, Carter. Are you excited to be back in Miami for a minute?”

  “Sure am, Flora. What’s on the schedule for the rest of the day?”

  “Post-cruise brief at four p.m. with the entertainment crew and managerial staff. That’s the only thing you’ve got today. Tomorrow, we’re on a ship to Bermuda, though.”

  “Thanks, Flora. I’ll be in my office if you need me. I’m going to have a visitor in a few minutes. Can you send her back when she gets here?”

  Miss Havisham nods, and I disappear into my office. There are various sheets all over my desk, but I clear them away before Abby knocks a few minutes later.

  “Hey,” I say, standing to greet her. “All packed?”

  “Yep. I left my bags with Caitlyn and Jessica. We haven’t been called to disembark yet, and based on the lines, it’s going to be a while.”

  “Good,” I say, pulling her flush against my chest. “That means I get more time with you.”

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  “Well,” I say, a plan forming. “We’ve christened my room, the upper deck, and my balcony. My office is feeling left out.”

  She smiles. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  We kiss lightly at first, letting the heat build. We may have some time, but we aren’t limitless like we were on the balcony yesterday. I speed things along this time around, pulling her shirt over her head as we kiss. She follows suit, unbuttoning my shirt carefully and sliding it down my shoulders.

  Abby kisses my chest while I attempt to unclasp her bra and get her shorts and underwear off. Within minutes of her arrival in my office, we’re both completely nude.

  “Sit on the desk,” I instruct her. She obeys with a shy smile.

  I settle myself between her perfect thighs, my hands gripping each one. My tip hits her opening and finds her already wet for me. I push my hips forward until I’m buried halfway inside.

  “You feel so fucking good,” she says. She drops her head back, leaving her breasts right at eye level. I take a nipple in my mouth. Abby moans and arches her back even further. “I can’t get enough of this.”

  “You’re still so tight, Abby,” I say. “Perfect for me.”

  I slide even deeper into her soaking pussy. She widens her hips to increase her own pleasure. We keep it quiet so that we don’t alert Miss Havisham to our behavior. She’s so scatterbrained that she might come in thinking we’re in danger.

  Abby’s lips meet mine as I pump in and out of her. “I’m close, Carter,” she moans against my mouth. “Keep going just like that.”

  I move a hand from her thigh to her breast to massage it in my palm, hoping to push her over the edge quickly because I’m almost there myself.

  “I’m gonna come too, baby. Finish for me. I want to feel you.”

  My words, my thrusts, and my attention to her breasts – they all work together to bring her to climax.

  She nearly screams, but I steal the noise with my lips. Her quaking insides pull me deeper as I moan my own finish into her mouth.

  “Wait you’re supposed to pull out,” she gasps suddenly. But again, it’s too late. I’m buried in her swollen folds and my balls are literally pumping the last of my seed into her as we speak.

  “I’m sorry,” I rasp against her creamy throat. “I guess I don’t have as good control as I thought. You’re just too gorgeous, baby girl.”

  She merely sighs and leans her forehead against mine.

  “It’s okay,” she murmurs against my lips. “I have to go soon anyways and I’m sure nothing will happen.”

  “That was one hell of a goodbye,” I pant. “I’m glad we did it that way. It feels right somehow.”

  She giggles.

  “It does feel right.”

  “I don’t want this to be goodbye forever, though,” I admit. “I know it’s not the most convenient thing in the world because I travel a lot for work, but I’d like to stay in touch. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Seriously, Carter?” she says. My heart lurches, and I’m worried she’s about to tell me this was only a one-time thing for her. That she didn’t feel the fireworks between us every time we touched, let alone slept together. “Of course I want that. I thought we even talked about potential babies together.”

  “Thank God,” I whisper, smiling and teasing her lips with a kiss. “You had me worried there for a second.”

  “Sorry. I like you a lot. I might even love you if we spend more time together.”

  “I love you, too,” I say. I don’t need more time. I’m sure now.

  Abby blushes and kisses me again. My erection returns, far from spent, but her departure will be announced soon, and I should prepare for my meeting later. We pull apart and get dressed, even though we’d much rather stay naked for a while longer.

  “I’m going to be in Miami again next week,” I begin. I pull out my phone to get her number, but it rings in my hand. It’s the ship captain, so I can’t ignore it. “Sorry, I need to take this. We can make plans to meet up when I’m back and figure things out from there.”

  I answer the phone and ask the captain to wait just a second.

  “Flora, can you give Abby my personal cell number and my email address?” I call out to my secretary. Meanwhile, to Abby, I say, “That phone number can reach me any time, anywhere. And if you can’t reach me, email me. I check it a million times a day.”

  “Okay,” she says, tears forming. She blinks them away.

  “We’ll be together again soon.”

  “I know. I’ll miss you until then.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Abby leaves my office after a long, passionate kiss that will hopefully tide me over until we meet again.

  “Sorry
, Captain. How can I help you?” I growl into the phone.

  “I’d like to discuss this last week with you. We had a few issues that we need to go over before this itinerary goes out again in a few months.”

  I sigh away from the phone. The captain isn’t usually a part of the post-trip meeting we have after every cruise, but he or she always has complaints. Most of the time I can’t fix the problems, which are typically related to weather or water conditions. They usually just want someone to listen to their problems.

  “I can be there in twenty,” I say. It’s only a three or four minute walk, but the last day is always crazy. It takes a lot longer to get from point A to point B when all of the guests are trying to get off the ship.

  The captain drones on about all of his complaints about this cruise, and I pretend to listen, nodding at all of the appropriate points. I hope he buys it because honestly, my head is far away from this cabin. Instead, it’s with Abby, wishing that I was with her right now. The curvy girl has a hold on my heart, and even though she’s gone, that hold hasn’t let up.

  18

  Abby

  My head swirls the second we step off the ship. After two straight days at sea, being on land is an adjustment for my body. It takes a few minutes for me to get my land legs back.

  Jessica wraps her arm around me and squeezes. “I’m sorry you had to leave Carter behind, but you’ll be in touch soon.”

  His number burns a hole in my pocket. I want to call him right now just to hear his voice, but we’ve barely left the ship, and he’d ushered me out of his office quickly to take a call, so he’s probably busy.

  “You’ll talk to him later and feel better,” Caitlyn adds.

  “I know. It just sucks.”

  “We know.”

  Miami is usually a magical place for me. Sure, I grew up here, but it has never lost its appeal – probably because we’re so close to the water. But I can’t enjoy being back in my favorite city on earth because my mind is too focused on Carter and the week we spent together.

  Was it really only a week? It felt like months, or even years ago. I told him I could love him, and he said he loves me. Our relationship is solid. No one would guess we just met.

  “Let’s go home. I’m dying to sleep in my own bed.”

  “Me, too,” Jessica agrees. “Those cruise beds were awful. How was Carter’s bed? Better than our tiny room, I bet.”

  I shrug. “It was definitely better than the beds in our room, but still not great. The bed I have at home is better in my opinion.”

  “That’s my girl,” she says.

  We pull our luggage through throngs of people toward the port parking lot. Jessica’s sedan is sitting where we left it last weekend, untouched. She pops the locks and lets us arrange our luggage in the trunk in drop-off order. Jessica’s stuff goes in first, obviously. Then mine, then Caitlyn’s. I live down the street from Jessica’s apartment, but Caitlyn lives a few blocks away. We’re all walking distance from the accounting firm.

  The heat in Miami is stifling. I miss the breeze from the water cutting through the hot air. I miss everything about the cruise ship. Especially Carter.

  Caitlyn takes her seat in the back, and I pile in next to Jessica up front. The radio is still turned all the way up from our celebration on the way here. It’s strange how different our moods are now. I’m not the only one sad to be back in Miami. If we could stay on vacation forever, we would. Unfortunately, we have to be back at work on Monday.

  At least we get tomorrow to relax before the real world starts again. Maybe I’ll be able to video chat with Carter, too!

  Jessica drops Caitlyn off at her apartment. “We’re on for Tuesday night, right?” she asks through the window.

  “Of course,” I tell her. “Weekly dinners are on, and they will only be canceled for extenuating circumstances.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Caitlyn says. “See you at work on Monday! Don’t call or text me until then; I’ll be dead to the world.”

  With a yawn, she waves us off and climbs the stairs to her door, her suitcase dragging lazily behind her.

  “Are you gonna be okay on your own?” Jessica asks as we drive to my apartment. “I can stay over if you want some company. You haven’t slept by yourself in a week. It can be a weird transition.”

  It bothers me a little that Jessica is babying me. Sure, I’ve never had a serious relationship before, but just because I’m in one now doesn’t mean I need a babysitter.

  Having her stay over does sound kind of fun, though. But I want to talk to Carter later on tonight, and Jessica being there might prevent things from getting dirty on the phone. I’m a phone sex novice, but I’m willing to learn if it keeps things intimate with Carter.

  I’m going to miss making love almost as much as I miss Carter. Hopefully, we can squeeze something in when he’s back in port next week.

  “I’ll be okay, Jess. But thank you. Maybe tomorrow, we can get together for a movie or something?”

  “I’d like that. Not until the afternoon, though. I’m with Caitlyn: I’ll be dead to the world for a while.”

  I laugh. “Did you guys get any sleep on the cruise?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Out at the club until late, up for the gym early. It was vacation. Who needs sleep?” We both laugh. “Did YOU get any sleep on the cruise?”

  “Probably more than you did,” I say. “And at least most of my time was spent in a bed.”

  “Dirty girl,” she teases. “I’m really glad you found someone on this trip, Abby. You seem happy.”

  “I am,” I say. “Really happy, and Carter gave me his contact information, so we’re going to stay in touch. It’s not over yet,” I confess happily. My friend smiles in return, and when we arrive at my apartment, I take my things, saying goodbye to Jessica.

  My apartment is exactly as empty as it was when I left, but this time, it seems more quiet than usual. Maybe I should’ve taken Jess up on her offer.

  I busy myself with unpacking because I know that if I don’t do it now, these clothes will sit in my suitcase for weeks, untouched. I even cart the dirty stuff down to the laundry room and get everything clean and put away. After that’s done, I order myself a pizza that will serve as lunch and dinner and settle down on the couch for a movie.

  Once my pizza arrives, I let myself pull Carter’s phone number from my back pocket. His secretary, Miss Havisham, scrawled the nine digits on a sticky note with his email address printed sloppily underneath.

  My movie ends, and half of my pizza is gone, so I type the number into my phone and hit call. Carter mentioned a meeting this evening, but that should be done by now.

  The phone rings once before beeping. An automated voice informs me that the number is not in service.

  That’s strange. I must have dialed it wrong.

  I stare at the piece of paper and type in the numbers carefully, one by one, triple checking that it’s right before hitting call.

  The same thing happens again.

  Crap! Maybe I’m getting the numbers wrong. Miss Havisham’s handwriting is atrocious. It’s a wonder she can get anything done with her illegible scribbles.

  I pull up my email app on my phone and type in the address Miss Havisham gave me.

  “Hi, Carter,” I write. “I tried to give you a call, but I think Miss Havisham gave me the wrong phone number. How about you call me? 305-458-7854. I’ll be waiting. Love, Abby.”

  I hit send and wait, refreshing my inbox immediately, as if he might respond that quickly. Unfortunately, refreshing the inbox gets me a shocking message from Gmail itself: a “this email address doesn’t exist” reply.

  This can’t be happening. There’s no way she messed up both the phone number and the email address.

  This can only mean one thing.

  Carter told his secretary to give me fake contact information because he never intended to keep in touch. What the hell? What happened to all that talking we did about my business,
about the babies we were going to have, and how much we adored one another? Was that all an illusion?

  Then again, that explains why he practically pushed me out of his office this morning. It was because he didn’t want to spend any more time on me. Our relationship was done, and he was ready to move on.

  The worst part is that I fell for it. I really thought I meant something to him, and even now, my eyes go to the charm bracelet I have on my wrist with the little whale dangling off of it. I thought we shared so much, but in his case, it was just a ruse.

  The tears fall before I can stop them. How could I have been so stupid? My friends tried to warn me, and I ignored them. I insisted that what Carter and I had was something special, when all along, they were telling me that men on cruises want only one thing. A good time.

  The tears come even harder, and I sob violently. With shaking hands, I pull up Jessica’s contact and hit call. She answers on the first ring.

  “Forget something in my car?”

  “Jess,” I say, my voice cracking. “Can you come over?”

  “Be there in five. I’m calling Caitlyn.”

  I manage a quick thank you before crumpling onto my couch in heaving sobs.

  My door is unlocked for the girls when they arrive to find me slumped over on my thrift store couch. The harsh corduroy upholstery leaves lines on my face when I sit up.

  “What’s wrong, Abs? Do you miss Carter?”

  At the sound of his name, my crying starts up again. I can’t speak, so I hand Caitlyn my phone and the paper with his number and mime for her to call it while I try to catch my breath.

  She hears the disconnected message and hands the phone to Jessica so that she can hear it, too. They flank me on the couch, pulling me tight into a three-way hug.

  “That asshole,” Caitlyn says. “I have half a mind to march onto that ship of his and kick his ass back to the Bahamas.”