Beg Me: Sold to My Dad's Boss

by Cassandra Dee

  But my mom did a sudden turnabout. Perhaps it was because she’d sensed it all along, realized that I never really wanted to go down this path, or maybe it was because I was her baby girl, and she couldn’t stand to see me like this. So her voice softened, becoming soothing.

  “Oh honey,” she said gently. “If this isn’t what you want, we’ll talk about it, okay? Don’t give up just yet, Daddy and I will go over options with you, there’s more than one way to live life.”

  “Is there?” I sobbed into the phone. My heart was breaking with crushed dreams and I could almost feel my mom’s heart breaking along with mine, this was so tough.

  “There are absolutely many ways to live life,” affirmed Brenda, her own voice choking a bit. “We love you baby, no matter what.”

  And it was then that the floodgates broke free because I couldn’t keep my secret anymore, I couldn’t hide the fact that I loved Chris and wanted to be with him despite the sordid deal we’d struck, the way we’d gotten to know each other.

  “Mom,” I bawled into the phone. “I have to tell you something. I’m in- in love,” I stuttered, “and it’s with Christopher Jones.”

  My mom was confused for a moment.

  “But why is that bad, honey? We’re so glad you met someone, is he a nice boy? I’m sure there are so many nice boys at school.”

  I could tell Brenda hadn’t made the connection, my dad’s boss was so far from her mind, completely out of the realm of possibility.

  “No Mom,” I said softly. “Christopher Jones as in Mr. Jones, CEO of United Electric. You know, dad’s boss.”

  And this time there was a shocked silence.

  “Mr. – Mr. Jones?” she stuttered. “But how do you even know him? You’ve only met him once or twice before.”

  And the whole story came tumbling out then, about my dad stealing from the company, his impending termination and how I bargained with Mr. Jones to keep Jim on for a little while longer in exchange for my body.

  “No baby,” pleaded my mom, “say it isn’t true.”

  “Mom, I’m so sorry,” I cried into the phone. “I didn’t want you and Dad to suffer, we don’t have much and we were going to lose the house. You know Dad can’t find another job that fast, he’s old and employers only want to hire young people now.”

  “No baby,” cried my mom again, her voice breaking. “You didn’t have to do this for us, you didn’t have to make this sacrifice.”

  And it was then that I pulled myself together.

  “It’s okay Mom,” I said gently. “I did it, it’s done, and what’s more is that I fell in love with Mr. Jones along the way. And Mom,” I said hesitantly, pausing for a moment, “he fell in love with me too.”

  There was utter silence from the other end of the line.

  “Honey, you know that this whole older man younger woman thing is only in the movies,” she said gently. “You’re a young girl, you don’t know what you want.”

  And I lost it then, gritting my teeth.

  “Ma, if one more person tells me I’m too young to know myself, I swear I’m gonna scream,” I managed tightly, trying to keep a rein on my urge to slam the phone down. “I’m so through with other people telling me what I want.”

  And my mom was silent, a pause so long that I thought she might have hung up had it not been for the soft breathing over the line. But then Brenda spoke, taking me by surprise.

  “If you’re in love with each other,” came her voice gently, wavering only a little. “Then what’s stopping you from being together?”

  I gaped, my mouth opening and closing without sound because this wasn’t the question I expected. I expected more denials, screams of grief, bellowing and beating of the chest, tearing at her hair, and not a totally logical question.

  “Well, he is really old,” I said tinnily. “What you said was true.”

  Another loaded pause.

  “How old?” asked Brenda.

  “Forty-five.”

  And there was a gigantic whoosh of air as she exhaled, my heart dropping as I heard it. Oh no, that was a deal-breaker and Brenda couldn’t look past it, couldn’t see that age was just a number.

  But she surprised me unexpectedly.

  “Honey, you know your dad and I are fifteen years apart, don’t you?” she reminded me quietly.

  I stopped for a moment. I had known that, but had forgotten because they were just Mom and Dad to me, in the general category of “old people,” people who were positively ancient.

  “I know Mom,” I said slowly, “but Chris is twenty-six years older than me, not fifteen. That’s a lot.”

  “It is,” Brenda agreed, “but you can overcome it, so long as you’re on the same mental level with the same approach and expectations to life. And trust me, your dad and I know, we went through a period where people questioned our decisions, questioned our love for each other. We started dating when I was twenty and he was thirty-five, folks thought that we couldn’t possibly be a good match.”

  I gaped, astounded.

  “Really?” I asked. I’d never heard about this part of their courtship, it’d always been rainbows and smiles from what they’d told me.

  My mom hesitated.

  “Yes, both sets of your grandparents opposed our marriage. Nanny and Don, and Marta and Gramps didn’t come to the ceremony, you know that.”

  I did know that but they’d always painted it as a romantic elopement, a quick getaway because they were so hot for each other.

  “But what happened?” I asked confused. “Everyone loves you guys, I’ve never seen anyone be nasty or resentful.”

  And my mom sighed.

  “Honey, it’s because you were born. The birth of a child is a magical thing and you were such a beautiful baby. Who could hold a grudge? After you were born, Lindy, our parents saw that we were truly committed to one another, that we were going to be a family no matter what, so they fell into line.”

  And I gaped again. Holy cow, there’d been years of discord before I was born, my grandparents had opposed my parents’ union because of their age difference?

  And hearing my unspoken question, my mom’s voice came over the line again.

  “Yes, honey,” she said, her voice stronger now. “So if you tell me that you’re in love with Chris Jones, then Jim and I aren’t going to stop you just because you’re nineteen and he’s forty-five. It would be hypocritical, and based on our own experiences, we know it’s not a dealbreaker.”

  I gasped, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.

  “But Mom,” I said slowly, shaking my head, still trying to get my bearings. “What about the way Mr. Jones and I met? Don’t you think it’s so sordid, like he bought me somehow, paid me for my services?”

  “Oh honey, you’re so young,” began Brenda again

  Again, the “young” thing. I really was going to scream now, but my mom couldn’t hear my thoughts and she pressed on ahead.

  “You haven’t seen the world,” my mom began slowly. “There are so many ways to meet people, and yes, yours was a little more transactional than most. But baby,” and here, her voice hitched. “You did it because you love your family. You care about your dad and me, and … and we didn’t have many options financially.”

  That was true, I loved my parents and hadn’t wanted to see them thrown out on the street. But what about the issue of Chris “buying” me?

  “But Mom,” I began again. “Mr. Jones paid for me, lock, stock and barrel, like I was a horse at auction almost. Don’t you think that’s wrong, that any relationship like this is doomed?”

  And that’s when my mom paused again.

  “Honey, how do you think your dad and I met?” she asked slowly.

  “At a restaurant,” I said slowly. “You were a waitress and dad was eating there, and you struck up a conversation.”

  “That’s true,” confirmed my mom, “but there’s more to it. Your dad saw me but I didn’t like him at first. So he paid me for my phone number.”
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  I cut in quickly.

  “Dad slipped your manager a fifty for your number,” I said stoutly. “That’s different, you didn’t get the money.”

  “Not quite,” said my mom quietly. “Jim handed the manager a fifty, but then my manager passed the money onto me and said there was a nice man outside interested in meeting me. And so I too was ‘paid,’ baby. Maybe not as explicitly as you, but I got paid just the same.”

  But I couldn’t square it away. My parents’ meet-cute was exactly that, a sweet story that they’d relayed countless times.

  “It’s different for you guys,” I said stubbornly. “You didn’t have sex for money.”

  And my mom sighed.

  “Sex, sex, sex, all young people are about is sex these days,” she said. “Honey, there are so many grey areas and all I’m saying is that both you and I fall into the grey space. Maybe you’re a little more towards one side, and I’m a little more towards the other, but the fact is that a man bought us in some way, big or small. And all I can say now,” she said with a small smile in her voice, “is that your father and I have been together for twenty years. Twenty years honey,” she said softly, “happily married for twenty years.”

  And I paused then. That was real food for thought because despite all the objections I’d thrown out, my parents were living proof that you could succeed despite ominous beginnings, when all the signs pointed to no.

  And my heart began to beat rapidly then.

  “So what are you saying, Mom?” I asked slowly. “That I should date Mr. Jones? See where it goes?”

  And my mom sighed again, her voice low.

  “Baby, I can’t tell you what to do,” she said simply. “But I know from my own experience that the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t stop it from going where it will. So follow your emotions, ask yourself what’s right for you, and I promise baby, your dad and I will support you every step of the way.”

  And with those words, we ended the conversation, my heart full, my mind buzzing. Because I’d expected this phone call to be filled with terror and recriminations, demands that I come home immediately, locking me the house until I came to my senses. But instead, it had been the opposite. My mom and dad were open-minded human beings who’d lived full, colorful lives themselves, in many ways mirroring my own situation. And I knew without a doubt now that Brenda and Jim would only want happiness for me … in whichever way, shape or form it came.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Chris

  “Anyone home?” came the dulcet voice, its tones so familiar, so sweet that my body immediately hardened. Shit, what the brunette could do to me was unbelievable, turning me into pure iron with just a few words. But I called back, responding in a normal tone.

  “In the study,” I growled. Okay, that wasn’t too bad, I sounded like a bear but at least a friendly bear, right? Not one that was going to devour a sweet girl.

  Because Lindy had emailed unexpectedly, asking to meet at my house and I was shocked to get the message. She’d been so confused after our meeting at the Four Seasons, stuck on the point that I’d “bought” her, her thoughts whirling, eyes troubled, that I was sure it was over. I was sure the girl was going to retreat, take her time finishing school, find a job, and heck, probably the only time I’d ever see her again was now and then at her parents’ place if I was lucky.

  So I’d steeled myself to the possibility. It fucking sucked, I’ll admit it. I’m used to getting what I want, and when it comes to women usually it’s not very hard. Generally there’s a sigh, maybe some token resistance, but sure enough, the woman’s in my bed at the drop of a hat, sometimes even by the next sentence.

  But I’d had a feeling of foreboding with Lindy because she was different. The brunette was genuinely troubled, she wasn’t putting up a front of “I want you but I don’t,” trying to snare me by being difficult. She genuinely felt torn by the circumstances, feeling that she’d exchanged her beautiful body in return for her dad’s job. And of course she had, so I was curious to see what had changed … if anything.

  And sure enough, the door pushed open and the curvy brunette appeared, just as spectacular as before. Lindy was wearing a formfitting cashmere dress and the soft wool only highlighted her big tits and bigger derriere, my cock stiffening at that sensational figure.

  “Hey,” I said, shifting a bit behind my desk. “What brings you home? The semester can’t be over yet.”

  And the girl bit her lip, her pink pout going rosy.

  “No, it’s not,” she said hesitantly. “I left school, Chris, I dropped out.”

  At that my mouth hung open.

  “You did?” I asked before stopping myself. “It’s for the better, baby, I know you didn’t like it anyways.”

  And she nodded, still biting her lip, crossing her legs uncertainly as she took the seat across from mine.

  “It wasn’t right for me,” she said with a giant exhale, that beautiful bosom rising and falling. “It wasn’t right in so many ways, as I explained to you,” she added ruefully.

  I steepled my hands underneath my chin, nodding thoughtfully.

  “So what’s next?” I said casually, my voice neutral. “If you’re not going to school then what’s next for Lindy Martin?”

  And she met my eyes then before taking another deep breath.

  “I thought- ,” she paused for a moment, choking a bit. “I thought I might take you up on that offer of culinary school,” she said. “If it’s still open,” she added in a hurry. “No worries if it’s not.”

  That floored me. Not only had Lindy dropped out but she was here asking me for help with her education? Not that I wasn’t ecstatic, this was a huge step in the right direction, but what were her motivations?

  “Baby girl, I’m more than happy to support you if that’s what you want,” I growled. “But where are you going with all this? What’s caused this turnabout?”

  And Lindy took another deep breath, this time meeting my gaze straight on.

  “I did a lot of thinking,” she said slowly, “and I only have one life to live,” she added with a wry upturn of her lip. “I don’t want to waste it and so I’ve decided to pursue the things that I want.”

  “And that is?” I asked, my voice deep, the bass much lower than usual. My heart was beating so fast that my pulse jumped at my throat like a jackhammer, giving away my need, my hopes for the future, how our futures might intertwine.

  And the little girl nodded at me, a hesitant smile creeping over her face.

  “I was thinking,” she said slowly, “that we might be together. You know, like a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend … if you want,” she rushed again. “Only if you want.”

  That was exactly what I wanted. I wanted nothing more than to spend my days and nights with the beautiful brunette, talking with her, sharing ideas, loving, fighting, laughing, enjoying amazing days and sensuous nights all rolled into one. But I hesitated.

  “Lindy,” I said slowly. “When we met two weeks ago you were genuinely disturbed by the idea of ‘us.’ I get it, you had legitimate reasons that made sense. But this is a pretty sudden about face, so what caused the change little girl? Why are you now here, in my office, everything different?”

  And the brunette blushed beautifully, fingering the hem of her dress.

  “I was stuck on the way we met,” she acknowledged slowly, nodding her head. “I mean, you have to admit it was unconventional,” she said, meeting my eyes with a smile, her tongue between her lips. Oh god, I wanted to pull her into my lap right then but I forced myself to pay attention, forced my brain to keep going.

  “And?” I prompted with a low growl. “What changed your mind?”

  The girl took a deep breath.

  “My parents,” she said slowly. “Jim and Brenda … they told me that whatever I wanted they’d support, that I should find what makes me happy and not make a mistake going down the wrong path.”

  That just about blew off the top of my head. Jim and Brenda?
Boring old Jim the accountant and his middle-aged wife, who was lovely, perfectly nice, but just as boring? And seeing my shocked expression, Lindy nodded.

  “My parents are pretty mainstream now,” she acknowledged, “but it turns out they have a past too. When they met, my mom was twenty and my dad was thirty-five,” she confessed with a wry grin, “so they’re no strangers to major age gaps.”

  “Yeah but fifteen years is a lot different from twenty-five,” I inserted quickly.

  “Twenty-six,” replied Lindy with a blush. “You’re twenty-six years older than me Chris, I’m nineteen still.”

  And my cock rocketed to diamond hardness then, the girl’s youth, her sheer inexperience a turn on in a very wrong way. But that only proved my point.

  “You don’t know what you want,” I ground out, “and I can’t let you make a mistake, you’re too young.”

  And to my surprise, the brunette stood up abruptly, her fine form bouncing as she put her hands on her hips, glaring at me, her gaze shooting sparks.

  “If one more person tells me I don’t know what I want because of my age, I swear I’m gonna kick something,” she said through gritted teeth. “Because I know exactly what I want and that’s this.”

  And without further ado, she marched around the large mahogany desk and plunked herself into my lap, that beautiful ass smashed up against my cock, my dick immediately finding that sweet space between her thighs, right up next to her pussy.

  And although I was surprised, I’ve never been a man to say no to a beautiful woman.

  “Well, well,” I drawled, my hands running up and down her arms, that lusciousness so close, so near that my senses were overloading. But I forced myself to focus. “What is this?” I growled, my heart going like a jackhammer.

  And Lindy smiled at me then, that pink pout so delectable, so sweet. “I missed you,” she breathed, and leaned in for a deep kiss. And oh god, she was so tempting, so desirable that my cock punched up against that bouncy ass, trying desperately to find where it belonged, her warm wetness so close yet covered by frustrating layers of cloth. I growled, taking her mouth, pushing my tongue between her lips, exploring her warm, wet cavern, her breasts bouncing in my hands, hips wriggling provocatively. But before I completely lost it, I forced myself to focus once more.