Boss On A Leash: A Single Dad Billionaire Romance

by Kara Hart

  He sees me, so I pretend not to see him. It’s easy, and I’ll keep up the act until the end if I have to.

  A crescendo of noise swells around me. The actors are getting more and more tense. One character grabs a gun. Another does the same and calls for a duel. One woman is shouting on center stage, tears painted down her cheek.

  Jim shakes his head, calling out to me, “Marc. Psst.”

  I squeeze Ali’s hand, smile, and pretend not to hear.

  “Don’t you ignore me,” he says, voice louder.

  Someone hushes him, but it only makes him repeat himself.

  The orchestra frantically builds to a climax. On stage, the two dancers face in opposite directions, beginning a march to the opposite ends of the stage. The horns scream, and the drums boom.

  The man on the right opens fire.

  The music stops.

  Bright red petals fall from the sky, and a beautiful overture starts. Ali’s eyes are full of tears. And then, to my complete satisfaction, the room lights return. The play is over.

  Thank God.

  Ali dots her eyes with a handkerchief. “You didn’t tell me it was going to be such a sad story.”

  Truth is, I picked this show at random. Pretty sure it was a reimagined version, too. In any case, it was pretty good. “It was a story about love.”

  “That man died in the end, so she could transform,” she says, eyes watering again. “Call me old fashioned, but I’m used to romantic happy endings.”

  Jim calls out to me a third time. “Marc! Hold up for a second.”

  Ali briefly pauses against my weight. “Who is that?”

  “It’s no one,” I say, pulling her hand. “Just someone who wants to steal my attention away from you.”

  She takes this at face value, probably because Jim looks more rugged than most men. And once we’re out in the fresh air, she’s laughing again.

  I know that I need to come clean about the unveiling party, but these moments mean so much to me. Ruining this is not the move.

  She throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you for everything.”

  I’ll tell her everything tomorrow.

  Right after I take her to bed with me.

  Ali

  I’m a little tipsy. A little out of control. But I’ve never felt better in my life.

  Not when I was living in Chicago. Not when I was younger and more carefree.

  Marc has shown me a side of him I never knew existed. A part of him that’s shared with only a few people in his life. He shared his hardest moments with me, and I helped him realize they were his greatest triumphs. It was important learning about his history, but most important is where his heart aligns.

  He’s not a liar like the other men. He’s completely honest.

  I trust him.

  And that’s why, as the driver speeds us around in the limousine, I decide that it’s time to fully let go of my hesitance and give him everything. Every inch of skin hidden underneath this dress.

  Crawling on his lap, I check the clock. It’s only nine, and I don’t have class tomorrow…

  “This was the best night,” I say.

  “But wait,” he says, imitating those old commercials that were always on late night TV. “There’s more.”

  I straddle him, pinning his hands above his head. “How could there be more?”

  “There’s always more with me,” he says.

  “Does that get you into trouble?”

  He grins. “Always.”

  The driver veers into the right lane, exiting the freeway without a moment to lose. I don’t recognize the exit, so I imagine it must be something pretty cool. I lift my head and glance as a row of neon lights appear. It’s one of those themed hotels, the kind that spells out S-E-X. I’ve stayed away from these places for good reason.

  Tonight, there’s no good reason. I’m here for him. And even though it’s the cheesiest, sleaziest, slobberiest spot a man could take a woman, it feels like the perfect place to be.

  The driver pulls into the parking lot. I’ve got my eyes fixed on the neon red and white sign. “Candy Cane Lane,” I whisper, lips arched. “What would Sammy think if she knew her dad came here?”

  He pushes forward, reaching just far enough to grab the bottle of champagne. He holds it to my lips, and I take a sip. “That reminds me. I need to call the sitter. Hold tight, okay?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  He grabs his phone, looking remorseful. “I promise, it’ll just take a few seconds. Just… stay there. Keep acting sexy.”

  Keep acting sexy? Don’t mind if I do.

  I lean back against the leather seat, feeling like a doll in a cabbage patch. My dress is starting to get to me, so I reach to unzip the back. The zipper is stuck.

  Marc’s got his trigger finger on the dial. He smiles as soon as a voice responds. “Everything good over there? How’s my Sammy?”

  The sitter must have replied with something that seems positive because Marc is laughing pretty hard.

  Meanwhile, I’m overheated, still trying to get out of this dress. For the life of me, I can’t get out. With one leg propped in the air, I jerk my wrist to get the zipper down. It’s just enough force to send my head flying back against the window. It’s not loud enough to excite Marc, but it definitely stuns me for a couple of seconds.

  Marc turns toward the window. “Well, she’ll just have to get over it. Tell Sammy I’ll be home tomorrow,” he says, completely ignoring the fact that my lingerie is now showing.

  I blow my bangs out of my eyes and wait for Marc to be done. Another minute passes. He’s chatting up that sitter, giving her a checklist the size of Texas. What do I have to do to get his attention?

  “Okay, fine. If Sammy’s not going to leave you alone, I’ll talk to her. Put her on the phone,” he says.

  With the back of my dress unzipped, I can breathe easier. I push it down. All the way onto the floor, completely exposing my red lingerie. My dress looks like a dead animal on the floor. Is this sexy?

  Suddenly, I feel very cold. My nipples are hard enough to cut diamonds, and my butt is covered in goosebumps. This isn’t like me. I’ve never felt all that comfortable in my own skin, but Marc makes me want to take leaps. Ever since I met him, I’ve dove head first into a lot new territory.

  This is the shiny version of Ali Greenwald. The new version men can’t get enough of. Sexy, curvy, and unafraid to say what she wants to say. To do the things she wants to do. She’s the woman every man wants.

  I cough to get his attention. It doesn’t work very well, though.

  “Sammy, sweetie. We talked about this. Daddy has some business to take care of tonight,” he says.

  As the words fall from his lips, he turns. The red lingerie is like a painted bullseye to men, and his eyes behave no different. He starts to lower the phone, despite Sammy’s voice echoing out from the receiver.

  If we want this to work, there are sacrifices we’ll have to make. I never imagined I would fall for someone fifteen years older than me. I never thought he’d come with a child. Some women might have a hard time accepting their man isn’t one-hundred percent focused on them. But without Sammy in the picture, I wouldn’t have seen that other side. He’d just be a man who tried too hard to get my number.

  “Sammy, I love you. But daddy needs to go now,” he says. He pauses for the sitter’s response. “It’s okay, Stacey, but I have to turn off my phone now. I’ll send you money for a pizza. Yeah. Okay. Thanks for everything.”

  I lower into the seat, kicking away the dress in a surprisingly sexy way. “Sorry about that. I told her not to call, but I guess Sammy wanted to order someth—”

  I drape my finger against his lips. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

  His focus drifts from my chest down to my thighs. He takes one deep breath as he brings his focus down to my panties, to the garters that fasten around my waist and thighs. I’m like a pretty gift-wrapped package, and it’s all for him.

&nbs
p; He powers off his cell phone, throwing it behind him. It sounds like the screen just cracked in half, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  My heart is racing, palms are sweating, and every muscle is tensely pulsing to an unshakable rhythm. I’m freaking out. The difference is I’m not acting on fear anymore. I’m acting a different way entirely, and it feels so fucking good.

  I open my thighs, ignoring the flurry of self-doubt that briefly enters my mind. “You okay?” I ask, knowing full well I have his time for the rest of the night. “Do you need to go home or something?”

  He doesn’t speak with his mouth. Those dark brown eyes are doing all the talking. And I can’t wait any longer. Neither can he.

  Staring, he brings his hand around the back of my head, and he just pulls me into him. His lips find mine, his tongue coaxing my mouth open, pushing deeper inside.

  Pulling back, I bite the sugary taste off the bottom of my lip and glance at the tinted barrier separating us from the driver. “Can he…?”

  “Can he see us? No.” He kisses me. “Hear us? Feel the vehicle shaking? Probably.”

  One more kiss before he wraps his entire body over mine, pinning me against the seat so hard it nearly takes my breath away. “You want to get a room instead?” he asks.

  The room probably has one of those heart-shaped beds with windows plastered across every inch of wall. It sounds like a whole lot of fun, but our relationship has been about managing expectations. He has met every single one with astonishing grace. This is what we’ve both been waiting for since the day we met. I am not waiting a minute longer.

  “Fuck the motel room,” I say. “And fuck me, too. Hard.”

  He looks like he didn’t expect me to be so blunt. I’m surprised by the things I’m saying and doing, though maybe I shouldn’t be. Every inch of my body is buzzing with a concentrated ache that matches a flicker of heat blossoming deep inside me.

  Gliding my hand down his chest, I feel every ridge of muscle, every masculine hair and distinct vibration of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. I bend up and kiss his neck, tenderly sucking the spot below his ear, where the lobe meets the skin. His whole body trembles.

  Angled underneath him with my heels tapping against the glass, I push my thighs around his waist, gently thrusting back. A throbbing pulse forms in my throat, bringing more warmth to my cheeks. I can feel his cock, hard and ready to go near the center of his slacks. I was hoping he was big enough to handle me, but as he dry humps my pelvis, I feel something so much bigger.

  Focused on his body, I run my fingers over the taut, muscular skin. He jerks when I touch him, abs clenching as he shuts his eyes. Then his hand glides around my breasts. We’re touching and rolling in this narrow enclosure inside the limousine, and I’ve hit my elbow against the driver’s window divider at least twelve times. I must resemble a human pretzel in my sheer fuck-me-now fury. I whisper in his ear, sending him into another bout of twitching.

  A heaving moan comes from deep in my chest. We’re both on the edge. He kisses me, and I just go for it.

  I reach out and I touch something hard. It’s feels thick. Definitely something… cold? It’s his belt buckle.

  “Here, let me help you,” he says, undoing the metal button from the notch.

  The button pops, and the zipper seems to slide down without my help. I bite the side of my tongue, watching his body lower in the mirror of the limo. He takes my hand and guides it against his pelvis. There has been a lot of misunderstandings between us, but there is no confusing this.

  And once he has my hand around his cock, I see him for what he really is. A total monster.

  It’s not a joke. His cock is monstrously huge. It is rock hard and pulsing to the beat of our lust. From its upward slope to its crease between his balls, to its underside, the whole thing grows before my very eyes like a science experiment. A hot science experiment…

  Bad analogy.

  My grip is firm. I feel him shudder as beads of pre-cum drift from his crown, all the way down his shaft. Using my index finger, I stop the outflow and drag the wet, glistening lubricant around his member.

  Thrusting into my hand, he groans and touches my side, sending another jolt of heat through my body and setting my lower belly aflame. Our breathing increases as we lose ourselves in each other. My own desire is increased, folding into the foreground as I bring the fingers of his other hand to my breast.

  Light and soft with his touch, his palm brushes against my lips. It only takes one single upward movement to find my clit. He circles around the hood before bringing his index finger down to glide through my wetness and feel my excitement. As soon as he pulls away, my clit buzzes. I grind my pelvis to ride out the feeling.

  “You’re wet,” he says.

  I smile. “Who would’ve thought a nice teacher could behave so badly?”

  He issues a quick laugh. “I had a feeling you were dirty.”

  I squint and stroke down. He’s so fucking hard. “Yeah? Is that why you’re pulling out all the stops tonight? Because you wanted to play a little with the dirty girl?”

  This is so wrong. But I’m so turned on I have to pretend to turn away. His breath tickles my ear as he comes back down.

  “Yep,” he says. “Staged this whole thing just to get laid. Pretty good plan, right?”

  I shrug as I coil my thighs around his waist, locking him in place. “Pretty good,” I say. “But you haven’t asked me my plan yet.”

  This time, his eyes narrow. “Let me guess. Take all my money and run. It’s a good plan, albeit overdone.”

  “I’m glad you think that. Because that wasn’t my plan.”

  He lifts up. “Hm...”

  I’ve got him by the balls, literally. I pull him back down. “I plan on getting the money through the kid.”

  He chuckles. “You’re both going to take off running, aren’t you?”

  Teasing a finger against his chest, I nod.

  In one swift move, he lifts my legs around his neck. “Gives me a lot of free time.”

  My laughter quickly ceases as he teases a finger around my clit, slowly swiveling down, around the outer edges of my lips. He kisses my pelvis, right above an awkward patch of razor burn. I moan and close my eyes, dying from the anticipation.

  “Mm,” he growls.

  There’s no need to run off with his money. With his head buried between my legs, I think I like my options here better. This is bliss.

  He pushes one finger inside me, bending. I groan, reaching down to hold his hand. My hips push against him.

  “This is what I want. Forever,” he says.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  What does he really think about me? Does he love me? Forever isn’t a word I take lightly. I’ve had people say it to me before. Months down the road, they’re telling me they can’t fathom staying with anyone forever. The typical bullshit.

  “Do you mean it?” I ask.

  Looking up, he kisses my pussy. Endlessly, teasing me. Then, working his tongue across my clit, he takes his mouth away from me and says, “If there’s one thing you can say about me, it’s that I’m honest.”

  My smile returns, and my eyes close. I’m spinning as his finger teases its way past my lips, carrying his expert tongue along with it. I rejected love because the love I felt didn’t feel so good anymore. This is so different. He is everything I’ve been waiting for in a man.

  Drunk from this feeling he gives me, as well as the feeling his tongue gives me, I know just what I want. I want his mouth. I want his cock. And, of course, I want a little tiny piece of his heart.

  A gentle motion rocks my hips back and forth. He slides in another finger, disappearing down to the knuckle. Arching them against my g-spot, he makes me rise and dig my heels against the glass. My endorphins take over, and I just let myself go until his whole mouth is fastened around my pussy, sucking both my clit and lips, while he slides in and out with his fingers.

  This is a professional pussy eater. I’m a little afraid of w
hat comes next.

  While I’m absorbing the new feelings he’s given me, a third finger presents itself. When he slides it in with ease, I find myself panting and saying the most unthinkable things.

  “More,” I moan. “Eat this pussy. Come on. Harder.”

  It’s crazy. So crazy that it’s right.

  I draw my fingers into the back of his hair and move him in gentle motions. I’m so close to losing it that my lower half feels like it’s floating on an electrified lake of ecstasy. When he pushes deeper, I nearly melt.

  “Don’t stop,” I grunt. “Never stop.”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he grunts.

  “Yes.”

  “So fucking gorgeous.”

  “Mm… Fuck,” I grunt.

  His tongue is exploring. Oh, God. Is it moving lower? What’s he doing? His tongue is officially on my asshole.

  This feels… incredible?

  “Come for me,” he whispers.

  My pleasure is building. I’m shaking, and I can’t stop it. I’m going to lose control. As my legs spread like a butterfly, I feel my pulse slip into a wave of pleasure, like it’s trying to leap from my heart to my pussy. My legs grip for a second, then my knees buckle, and it’s like I’m floating away.

  I can’t speak. I can only feel the pleasure soak as he rises to meet me with a sweet kiss.

  More endorphins envelope me. My body kicks forward and back, but Marc has me in his grip, and he’s staring into my eyes like he’s some kind of hero. Well, he’s my hero. I don’t want to lose this. I can’t.

  It’s too much. I adore him now. Every insecurity comes out, and they all seem so heightened. But then a second wave hits me. It’s so strong, it knocks my jaw open and lays me down, flat.

  And for a while, I’m just floating. I’m thinking about the life we could have together. Everything is possible when we’re working at this. It’s not the first time I’ve felt this way, but it’s hopefully the first time it really sticks.

  When I come back to Earth, Marc brings his arm around my back. I can taste myself on his lips and tongue as we kiss. I’ve never been more turned on in my life.