His Amazing Baby_A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  He gives me a sleazy little half-smile, obviously regretting his decision. I can still see the exhaustion in his eyes, and I’m starting to understand exactly where that comes from.

  It’s tiring business, fucking over people that work for you.

  “What can I say?” he asks, spreading his hands wide. “Things got out of control. The board was pushing, and my lead engineer was giving me all these numbers—”

  “Numbers?” I cut in.

  “Cost figures. Her designs are good, no doubt about it, but they’re expensive as hell. I mean, those batteries alone would’ve been twice as much to produce as normal, not to mention retooling a factory to build the suckers.”

  I grunt a little, doing the math. “And the figures we were quoting people?”

  “Not feasible,” he admits.

  “And those orders that came in?”

  “For the new designs,” he says. “Cheaper than what you were shopping around. We basically followed up after every meeting you had with the revised figures.”

  “I assume you conveniently left out that those revised figures are for inferior designs.”

  He gives me another weak smile. “They didn’t ask.”

  I sigh. “That’s a dangerous game.”

  He leans back in his chair, glancing up at the ceiling. “Sales haven’t been great recently. Profit is down across the board and people are talking.”

  I nod once without giving too much away, but this is the crux of the issue. Mitchell’s job is at stake and likely depends on this new round of figures. He needs to make these panels do well, and if he doesn’t, he’s fucked. Which is why he opted for a cheaper, inferior product on top of shady marketing tactics.

  I didn’t sign up for this. I’m a salesman and a PR guy, but I’m not a liar. I bend the truth and dress up in pretty clothes but I don’t outright make shit up like Mitchell basically made me do during that whole trip. I feel like I need a long, hot bath.

  He’s probably been in the office the whole weekend, putting all this bullshit together. No wonder he looks tired and rumpled.

  “What about Riley?” I ask him blandly. “She’s not happy.”

  “Can’t blame her,” he says. “We’re prepared to offer her the rights to her design back.”

  “Think that’ll make her happy?” I ask him. “I mean, she’s still a talented engineer.”

  He gives me a weary look. “I like to think it will.” I can tell this has been an issue for a while now. I suspect he’s been struggling with these very questions, but he doesn’t seem to want to open up to me.

  It’s time to do what I do best then.

  I stand up and stretch my legs a bit as I step across the room, pacing slightly. “Mitchell, can I be honest with you?”

  He gestures at me. “Please. I like to think we’re at that point in our relationship.”

  I smile my biggest ass-licking smile possible. “Good. So do I.” I stop pacing and face him, arms crossed. “Truth is, there’s a reason I was surprised when you told me that we got more orders. Do you know what that reason is?”

  He shakes his head. “I’d rather not play guessing games, if it’s all the same to you.”

  I nod sharply. “It’s because of her.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said she was valuable? Good at explaining things?”

  “I did,” I concede. “And she can be, when she wants to, but she hates that sort of stuff. She’s an engineer, Mitchell, if you know what I mean. An engineer through and through. Sure, she showers and looks presentable, but she’s still the same egotistical, self-centered prick they all are.”

  Mitchell sighs, leaning back in his chair, glancing over at the clock on his wall. I know he knows what I’m saying, since we’ve had this same conversation about other engineers before. I can tell he’s calculating exactly what he’ll have to give up to make this conversation end and this problem go away.

  “What are you thinking here?” he asks me finally. “We’d like to retain her in her current role, if at all possible.”

  “Give her the rights,” I say. “Sign them over completely, no strings attached, and offer her a bonus, no strings attached.”

  He sighs. “How big of a bonus?”

  I shrug. “Few thousand should be fine.”

  “Okay. We can handle that.” He puts his palms flat on the desk and flexes his shoulders, stretching his neck and looking up at me with those fucking greedy eyes. “If she’ll sign a new contract.”

  I smile at him, taking my seat again. I totally expected this. I knew they wouldn’t give her shit without making her sign some draconian fucking contract that’ll ream her asshole if she tries to walk away.

  “She won’t go for it,” I say.

  “How can you be so sure?” he asks.

  “She’s pissed at you, Mitchell. Would you lock yourself into a company for a few grand plus the rights to the invention you made? Only way to keep her is to make her happy here, not forcing her to stick around.”

  He grunts a little and sighs, leaning back. “Fine. No new contract, but no bonus.”

  I spread my hands wide, palms up. “I can ask her, but I don’t know if it’ll fly.”

  “Try,” he says. “It’s the best I can do right now without getting board approval.”

  “Okay then.” I stand up and give him one last look. “For the record, she’s worth keeping.”

  “I hope so,” he says. “So far, you two have been a pain in my ass.”

  I grin, although I’m trying not to smash his face through the drywall. “Smooth sailing from here. I’ll sell those new panels.”

  “I bet you will.” He’s already looking back to his laptop screen, so I turn and leave his office, mind reeling.

  The guy’s fucking clueless. It’s almost painful to watch. I hurry back to my office and slip back inside, stopping dead in my tracks to find Riley already sitting behind my desk. She looks annoyed, feet on my desk, like she’s been waiting a while.

  “Hello, boss,” I say.

  “How was your meeting?” she asks, a little sneer in her tone.

  I walk over and lean up against the wall next to my desk, crossing my arms. She watches me, hands behind her head, pretty blue eyes narrowed into daggers. She probably thinks I’m a fucking traitor, I think, but shake it away.

  Doesn’t matter what she fucking thinks. As long as I get what I want.

  “He wants to sign over the rights to your designs,” I say. “No strings attached.”

  That makes her pause. She cocks her head slightly, her hands falling down to the chair’s arms, though she keeps her feet up. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I confirm. “I managed to convince him that you’re not a total liability.”

  “Liability?” she says, anger flaring. “I’m a damn good—”

  “I know that,” I say, cutting her off. “But you also own the designs they’re scrapping and ripping off, and they’re afraid of what you might do. I think they planned on doing it from the start.”

  She hesitates, anger faltering. “Really?”

  “It’s why they approved my whole trip. Shit, it’s why Mitchell all but shoved it down my throat originally.”

  “It was his idea?”

  “No, but as soon as I brought it up, he wouldn’t let it drop. I think they were already planning serious changes and he wanted you out of the office.”

  “He used us both,” she says softly.

  “That’s right.” I stand up straight, walk over to my desk, and shove her feet off it. They land with a thump as I reach down and tug her against me, rolling the chair over the carpet.

  She looks up as I tip her head back by the hair. She bites her lower lip, opening her mouth.

  “They fucking used us,” I say softly. “And nobody uses us, you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” she says softly. “What can we do?”

  “We’re going to fuck them,” I say, eyes staring into hers. “Do you believe in your designs?�
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  “I do,” she says softly.

  “Good. Because everything depends on them now.” I lean forward and kiss her before she can respond.

  21

  Riley

  His fist in my hair. His lips against mine. I can barely feel my hands at I reach up to unbuckle his belt. I think they’re shaking, but with nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell.

  It doesn’t matter. His tongue tastes good in my mouth as I tug his belt off, the metal ringing as it hits the floor. I can feel the zipper tug free before I pull his slacks down over his black briefs.

  He pulls back, this delicious, cocky smirk on his lips. “This is incredibly inappropriate,” he whispers.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  His fist tightens in my hair. “You’d better not. Don’t forget who your boss is.”

  I laugh softly as I pull down his underwear, his cock swelling out, hard and huge. “You’re not my boss.”

  “Not yet,” he says as I take him in my hands, stroking him slowly. “But I’m going to be.”

  “I doubt it.” I open my mouth, taking him between my lips. He groans softly, hand still on my hair as I suck him hard, sliding up and down his shaft. He groans as I slide him into my throat, gagging softly and pulling back to look up at him.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, pulling my hair tight and holding me there.

  His hard cock in my hand, I actually take a second to consider that question. Do I trust him? A couple of months ago, back before our trip, the answer would’ve been absolutely freaking not. But now?

  “Yes,” I say softly. “And I don’t know why.”

  “Yes, you do.” His hand tightens again and I gasp. “You know exactly why.”

  “You respect me,” I hear myself say, almost from a distance. He grunts his pleasure as I keep stroking him, unable to stop myself.

  “More than that,” he says softly.

  “Shit.” His hand releases my hair. I lean forward again, taking his cock into my mouth with renewed intensity. He grunts and I feel both his hands weave their fingers into my hair as I suck him faster, tasting his salty precum on my tongue. I want to hear his groans in my ears, I want to lose myself completely.

  This whole situation is beyond fucked. I should be blaming him, I should be so mad at him for dragging me away from this place on this stupid, useless trip… but I’m not.

  I’m not angry with him at all. None of this is his fault, and really, he’s been trying to help me this whole time even if he has been doing it his own way. He’s the only one that’s really believed in what I’ve done, what I’ve built, and he’s been spending the last few weeks trying to convince total strangers over and over of what I’m worth.

  Instead of convincing them, I think he’s been convincing me. I’ve always been a mess of insecurity, always wanting to impress everyone, prove my worth. Even though I put on this angry, tough exterior, I’m really just as desperate and fucked up as anyone else.

  He’s the first person to see through my shit and to really care, despite everything, despite me trying hard to push him away. Despite the baby growing inside of me.

  He pulls back, his cock leaving my mouth with a slick pop as I look up and he leans down to kiss me, fingers gripping my hair again. I stand, pushing him back against the filing cabinet behind him as I press my body against his, needing him so bad. He enfolds me, practically twice my size as his strong arms reach down to lift my skirt up. He grabs the hem of my panties and he tugs it down, turning me so that my ass goes up against the cold metal cabinet. He drops to his knees, pulling my panties off all the way and tossing them aside.

  He spreads my legs, tonguing my pussy the way that he does, the way that drives me crazy. I groan, feeling his hair under my fingers as he works my pussy, lapping me up, licking me in delicious and intense circles. I groan, head tipped back slightly, and he keeps going, fingers sliding inside of me.

  “Fuck, girl,” he grunts as I let out a little moan. “This is dangerous.”

  “I know.” I shake my head, hair spilling all around. “If we get caught, we’re done.”

  He smirks and grabs my hips, spinning me around. I put my hands flat against the cabinet as he bites my ass hard, one finger teasing my tight ass.

  “But you’re so goddamn tasty,” he says. “I think it’s a good risk.”

  “Aaron,” I groan. “Come on. We shouldn’t mess around.”

  “You start this, and now you want to stop it?” His finger slides inside my ass as he bites me again. “I don’t think so.”

  He pulls his finger back and tongues me. “Holy shit,” I gasp. “What are you doing?”

  He smirks, tonguing my tight hole. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

  I let out a soft grunt. I’ve never had a man lick my ass before but it feels… good. Weirdly good. I thought it would be disgusting, but I actually really like it. He laughs at my expression and goes back to work, tonguing me in circles, teasing me with his finger, and biting my soft, pale skin.

  He pulls back suddenly and gets to his feet. I go to turn around but he stops me, moving me to the side and pinning me against the wall. I grunt as I feel his cock press up against my pussy, teasing me with his massive girth. “You know I’d taste every single inch of your body, right?” he whispers in my ear. “Every single inch. There’s not a part of you I’d run away from.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, I do.” He teases my ass against with his finger. “Every part of you is mine, Riley. I need it all.”

  “No,” I whisper.

  He presses me tighter against the wall. “Yes.” His breath is hot, insistent against my neck, and I know I can’t hold out any longer.

  I moan as his cock presses against me, slowly sliding inside. “Yes,” I groan. “Fuck, yes, Aaron.”

  He grunts and presses himself deep inside of me in one easy stroke. I’m so soaking wet that it’s like nothing for his massive cock to push inside me and spread me wide open. I can smell him as his body presses against mine, pinning me to the wall. Seafoam and dirt and rain. He grabs one wrist and pins it behind my back.

  There’s nothing gentle or beautiful about the way he fucks me, and that’s exactly what I want. It’s rough and fast and dirty, his lips against mine over my shoulder, his cock buried deep between my legs as he pulls my one wrist behind my back and pins the other against the wall. I’m enfolded, dominated, controlled, and it’s taking all my willpower to stop myself from screaming out my moans with wild abandon.

  I have to keep myself under control. I may hate this place right now but I really would rather not get caught having sex at work, especially not with Aaron. Things are confused and messed up enough with him without adding that on top of everything else.

  His cock thrusts deep and I groan, biting it back after a moment. He smirks at me, releasing the arm behind my back and cupping my chin, pulling my face back toward him.

  “You want to moan right now, don’t you?” he whispers. “You want to scream my fucking name. I’m not being gentle.”

  “Don’t be gentle,” I whisper, grunting, sweating slightly, wiggling my ass against him.

  He laughs softly. “I know what you like, Riley. I know how badly you need it deep and rough. You want me to control your little body and I’m more than happy to give you what you want.”

  “That’s not what I want,” I groan as he thrusts harder inside of me, tightening his hand on my chin.

  “Liar,” he says. “You love having this pussy beaten the fuck up. You want to limp after all this, sweating and spent. You want to go hoarse as you scream my fucking name. Face it, Riley. You’re filthy, and this is all you want.”

  I gasp as he releases my chin and slaps my ass. I stare at him, wide-eyed. It makes a loud noise, but he only grins at me and slaps again, hitting harder, thrusting deeper and rougher. Pleasure overtakes me, pure and intense and unbridled.

  I jerk my back, riding his cock as he fucks me
, needing every single inch of his massive, thick member. He grips my hips and rails into me as I put my hands flat against the wall for leverage. I push back harder and harder, pleasure blooming and growing inside of me, and I know I’m close. I pull up the neck of my blouse into my mouth, biting down onto it to keep from screaming out as the orgasm rips through me. I can only imagine his cocky grin as he fucks me through it, unrelenting, unapologetic. The orgasm is so intense my legs go weak, and his arms are there, holding me up against him, moving with me in grinding slow motions.

  “Fucking hell,” I gasp. “Oh my god. I think I might pass out.”

  “Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’m not through with you.”

  I feel him fucking me faster again and I groan, but I bite it back as he covers my mouth with one hand. He fucks me deep and rough again, not holding back anymore, taking me like a damn animal. It feels so good until he pulls back, groaning. I drop to my knees just as he’s coming. I manage to get it mostly in my mouth, although a thick drop lands on my cheek. I take him into my throat and swallow every drop, trying to make sure he doesn’t make too much of a mess.

  When he’s finished, I pull back and wipe the drip of cum from my cheek, putting my fingers in my mouth as he watches. I can tell he likes it as he pulls me to my feet and kisses me, slow and deep. This is so stupid, so reckless, and I just can’t make myself care anymore.

  Because it feels so damn good. Everything about him is built to entice me, make me feel incredible. From the cut of his suit to his dirty, cocky words in my ear, everything drives me insane. As much as I want to keep hating him, I know he’s wearing down my walls.

  And that makes things even more complicated. I’m still pregnant, and he still wants this baby. If I let myself fall for this, what happens then? Am I going to become a mom after all, even if that’s not something I’ve ever wanted?

  It’d be easy to sit there and worry, but I don’t let myself. Instead, I fall into his kiss, trusting him to do what needs doing.

  22