by Jamie Knight
He shrugs while he keeps walking away.
Fuck.
I rip open the envelope and scan its contents. Someone named Michelle is suing me for firing her… who have I fired recently? No, wait. She’s suing me because she got fired, but apparently she never even worked for me. She worked at the ski resort where Catharine worked…
Double fuck.
As I continue to read the complaint and see the details alleged about Charlie’s birthday party, I can finally put a name to the face of the woman Catharine was talking to at North Pines before she took off.
I had been wondering who that person was. She’d looked familiar but I couldn’t place her.
It’s this chick. And she must have told Catharine some shit about me that just isn’t true. I have better things to do than be so petty as to call a ski resort and complain because their employees were rude to me.
Michelle was rude to me, but I’m used to it. And maybe I even deserved it. I guess I am a rich prick who thinks I can do what I want, because I can, and maybe that attitude rubs off on Charlie too much, so it’s good for someone to put me in my place.
I didn’t appreciate how she was mean to Charlie, mind you, but Catharine smoothed that over just fine. I certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to get them fired because of it, so this girl has her story mixed up.
I wonder where she even got the idea.
Then I notice that the complaint says that a call was made by me to the ski resort.
I think I know what happened. I just hope I can fix it.
Epilogue
Catharine
There’s a knock on my door and I wonder if Amanda has come back to check up on me. It’s been a few days since I told her what was going on.
I’ve taken my phone out several times, with the intention of calling Daniel to tell him the news and to ask him for his side of the story instead of only relying on Michelle, but each time, I get cold feet. Or, cold fingers. Fingers so cold they can’t possibly dial the number they’re supposed to dial.
“Amanda, I’m okay…” I start to say, as I open the door, but then I see that it’s not Amanda.
It’s not Sally or Gia or any of my other friends, either.
It’s Daniel.
“I’ve been meaning to call you…” I start to say again, but he’s picking me up and carrying me into my apartment!
He puts me up against the wall and says, “I didn’t get you fired.”
“You what?” I ask, almost forgetting about that thing I was so mad at him about, because I’ve been worried about how to tell him this other thing I think he’ll be mad at me about.
“I called the resort to find out how to contact you. But that’s it. I think I fucked up bad, though, because there were rumors about our little tiff that had happened, and the resort thought I was calling to find out who you were so that I could lodge an official complaint or something, so they asked around to find out more details about what had happened and then they fired you and Michelle so that if I made the complaint, they could say they’d already taken care of it.”
“Oh,” I say, but his lips are on mine, and I can’t get any more words out.
“Don’t talk,” he says, grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing. “Just let me fuck you. I’ve been wanting to so bad. It all makes sense now and I swear I didn’t do anything to get you fired. Or I didn’t try to or mean to, anyway.”
“Okay,” I manage to get out, before he kisses me again.
“Can I fuck you?” he asks me. “I want to fuck you.”
“Yes, but…”
My pussy is already dripping wet and he’s ripping off my skirt so that he can put his hands in between my legs and feel it.
“Okay, good, since you clearly want me to fuck you, don’t talk. Don’t say a word until after I’m done fucking you.”
“Okay,” I say again, thinking, if you say so. But just remember this when you find out what it is I want to say.
He hurries to take his belt and pants off and then he pulls my panties over to the side. He looks down at my pussy while he’s rubbing my clit and says, “Oh my God, I’ve missed your pussy. I’ve missed seeing it and playing with it and tasting it and fucking it.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I tell him, but he puts his fingers in my mouth and I start sucking them.
“You’re such a bad little girl, sucking my fingers like that, but I love it,” he says, as he enters me, his cock as hard as I have ever felt it.
It feels so good to have my pussy stuffed by his big cock again. I’m instantly drenching it as I slide all around on it. He grabs my ass and then bites my nipples, gently.
“I need you. I need this,” he says.
“Oh, my God, I’m going to cum,” I call out, grabbing onto his shoulders and clawing at them with my nails.
“Me too,” he says, and I can feel him pulsing and throbbing inside me.
He doesn’t even bother to pull out, and I don’t bother asking him too, since I know we’re way past that point. I don’t know what his reason is, other than pure lust and being caught up in the moment.
“Mmm,” I moan, and at the same time, he grunts as he spills his seed inside me.
His cum shooting out into my pussy while my own juices are dripping all over his cock feels so good.
He carries me over to the bed and we lay down next to each other, panting.
“That was hot,” he finally says. “Now can we please get back together?”
“Yes,” I say, “but I need to…”
“No buts,” he says, putting his finger over my mouth. “I want you without limitations or restrictions. I want you to be my girlfriend, my fiancée, my wife, whatever you want to be. Charlie’s step-mom. Maybe Charlie’s adopted mom if we can work that out somehow. And I even want us to have a baby. It’s why I came in you. I need to claim you and knock you up so you can never leave me again.”
“Well, that’s good,” I say.
Finally, he stops talking and looks at me.
“Why do you say that?” he asks.
“Because I’m pregnant,” I tell him. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you. I’m sorry it took me a while to work up the nerve but I didn’t know you’d have this good of a reaction. I’m pregnant and it’s yours, of course.”
“Fuck yeah!” he yells out, which was definitely not the reaction my cold fingers were expecting all those times they refused to dial his number. “That’s great news. Charlie will be so happy to have a baby sibling! And even more than that, he’ll be happy that you and I are back together!”
He kisses me, and I kiss him back, amazed.
“So, was that, like, a marriage proposal?” I ask him.
“It sure was,” he says, twisting my hair in his hand. “If you want it to be. I mean, I’ll have to get a ring, because I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but that’s no problem, of course, and then we can be engaged. I just want to make us official in some way. I want to tell the world that you’re mine and you’re having my baby!”
“Okay, then,” I tell him, “let’s wait a bit on the engagement, just for a more natural progression of things, but I promise I’m not going anywhere ever again. I’m sorry I believed stupid Amanda over you. I promise I started doubting her and believing you wouldn’t do that but I just couldn’t bring myself to work up the courage to talk to you about it.”
“It’s okay,” he reassures me. “It took me getting nearly literally slapped with a lawsuit to figure out what had happened and come talk to you.”
“So she really did sue you!” I say. “That bitch.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “My insurance will fight it and you’ll testify on my side, of course.”
“Is that why you came here?” I ask, jokingly.
“Yep. This is all a bunch of fake excitement over being the father of your baby, just so I can convince you to testify for me and not for Michelle.”
I laugh and nuzzle my chin against his broad, strong chest. I feel safe
with him holding me, and I feel it’s right where I belong. With him, and Charlie, and our baby.
“I love you,” he says, and then he touches my belly. “And I love our little baby too.”
“I love you, and Charlie, and our baby, too,” I say, and put my head up for one more kiss before drifting off into what I think will be the best post-Christmas miracle sleep ever, because I’m living the best dream I could ever ask for come true.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of Little Pumpkin
If you haven't read Gia and Reece's story yet, be sure to check out Little Pumpkin! Enjoy this sneak peek!
Chapter One
Gia
It wasn't cold enough to see my breath, not quite, the air taking on the crispness only autumn could bring, the trees bursting in vivid orange and red, mixing in with the remaining green. I pulled my knee-length parka tighter around the skimpy dress the manager required for my job.
It took some doing to convince him to let me wear my Doc Martens instead of the black spike heels sported by most of the female employees. I had to polish my boots until they glowed, but eventually he caved. Wearing a dress that left little to the imagination was one thing; risking a broken ankle was another.
It’s not that I was insecure or prudish. I was actually pretty proud of my body. I was curvy but in all the right ways, which still tended to turn heads, my breasts and ass being particular areas of attention. I won't lie; it felt nice to be complimented on them.
But there was a time and place for everything, and what I objected to was being forced to show off my body at work, when it wasn’t of my own choice. But I had bills to pay, so I continued to don the skimpy outfit, and at least I got a win in with the Docs.
The restaurant was mid-level nice, at least in New York City terms. Everything went kind of weird when you crossed through the vortex onto Manhattan island. Prices jumped, crowds closed in and standards shot through the roof, the height of luxury almost anywhere else in the world being simply middling by Manhattan standards. Which was honestly why it felt kind of good to attract male attention, the standards of beauty and attraction being no exception.
I got through the door quickly, a few minutes late due to taking a bit too long to bask in the autumn beauty that New York never fails to deliver. Heck, there are even whole movies made about it and titled after it, so how could I not stop and look?
I did a quick scan for my manager, who was nowhere to be seen, luckily, and then got behind my podium, quickly ditching the parka behind it before I started setting up for the day. This wasn't really my dream job, though I could hardly complain. Most people start out a busser or even a dishwasher, and hostess is a step up from that.
I wasn’t really sure how I’d gotten so lucky. I had just seen an ad looking for a hostess and basically bullshitted my way through the interview, fake it till you make it being my personal motto at the time. It was a risk, but I needed the job. I was unemployed and the recession wasn't helping much.
I had lost my last job because of an over-developed sense of morality and justice, which I partly blame on my parents. The working conditions weren't just bad but dangerous. Rumor had it that the managers had worker's compensation payouts accounted for in the yearly budget. Doing it that way was still cheaper than making the improvements that would have actually made things safe.
Driven by rage and justice, I tried to start a union. There was more of a response than I had expected. Other workers, including those who had been there for years, started organizing around me like they had just been waiting for someone to lead them.
It hadn't turned out well. The managers had found out about our plan and fired me as the ring-leader. There would have been more firings. A lot more. But I had made it sound like the entire thing had been my idea and that I had basically duped the others.
Everyone else kept their jobs, though the head supervisor had really scared me, looking and talking as though he might actually take me out back and shoot me. There were other rumors that the owners had connections to the mob, and I wouldn’t doubt it. In the end, I honestly felt lucky to get of there alive, albeit without my paycheck and livelihood.
The manager at this restaurant was a lot nicer to work for. He was a bit of a picky timekeeper and a sexist pig but at least there was no sense of impending immediate execution for having the audacity to assert one’s rights. The worst he might do is fire you, or I guess grab your ass as he passed. It still made me mad, but I decided it was probably best not to tempt fate, no matter how much I might want to.
I was what my mother used to call "a little too honest," particularly with some of the rich assholes who would walk right in and be demanding like they owned the place. To my knowledge, none of them actually did, although I was a bit confused about the ownership structure of this place, so maybe some of them did.
And this was another reason I had to be careful. I had once lost a job by telling the owner what I really thought of them when they had come in for a surprise inspection and I hadn't known who they were.
When everything was ready, I went and unlocked the door, before hurrying back behind the podium to get ready for the onslaught. It could have been the weather, but it was nearly an hour before the first customers arrived. They were all bundled up in a similar way I had been, removing their coats to reveal mostly suits and other evening wear.
There were a few men who had clearly saved up to go out as a treat. The women were harder to tell. You could get some pretty nice dresses for pretty cheap if you knew where to look. Or else there was that old trick that involved wearing a dress with the tag still on it, tucked along the back seam all night long, and then returning it the next day.
The guys were a dead give away, though, usually wearing pressed and creased jeans rolled down at the ankle so they looked as much like dress pants as possible. The jeans were unusually worn with a polo short, or maybe a turtleneck. Sometimes with a blazer.
I had been around the rich and blithe long enough to tell the difference and not only be able to pick out the snakes in suits but also those trying to approximate their look, so that they wouldn't be judged too harshly. I usually gave those in this second category better tables than those they had booked.
I had such power and no one, at least so far, had reported me to the manager. In a place like this, you quickly learned to follow the rules and defer to authority. That was the theory, anyway, although I wasn’t always good at putting it into practice.
I checked in and seated the first few patrons, giving them the tables they had booked, acting as much as I could like a good girl. I really was tying to be good. To follow the rules. To keep my job.
It was annoying, to have to cater to the rich or wanna-be rich all day long. Sometimes I just wanted to scream at them and tell them that money isn’t everything. Having a soul is nice, too.
But I knew it wouldn't help anyone, least of all me, if I got fired again. It was important that I swallow my pride, quell the flame of justice th
at burned inside and do what must be done.
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He wants my treats, but I won’t be tricked.
I’m down on my luck when it comes to jobs.
So I’ve been trying to start an event planning business.
I’m thrilled when a friend hires me to plan her Halloween party.
And even more thrilled when I meet her handsome cousin.
But then I realize he’s cocky and arrogant.
He also seems to have some kind of dark past.
I tell myself not to let down my guard.
But he wants to go up my witch’s dress.
And I want to let him.
Just for one night of festive fun.
It’s not like we’ll be joined together for life… right?
But a pregnancy scare means the Halloween spirit stays in the air.
And soon he’s not the only one with a secret he’s hiding.
He doesn’t want to let me out of his life.
But what if I’m carrying a new one belonging to both of us?
Little Pumpkin is a full length Halloween-themed secret baby romance novel. Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!
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Jamie Knight –
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