Babydaddy To Go: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  I snatch the dress from his hands and disappear into what I’m assuming is the bathroom. I had to get away from his sensual touch before things went too far. We have an opening to get to, after all, and it would be mortifying to say we’re late because we couldn’t get our hands off each other!

  The bathroom is the size of my entire apartment. There’s a huge tub in here, as well as a walk-in shower. How clean does one guy need to get?

  I drop my pants in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. After the way Nate was just touching me, I wish he were the one stripping me down.

  As soon as I’m naked, I unzip the dress and step into it. I’m expecting it to catch on my hips, but it slides up my body easily. I can’t zip it myself, but I can tell it’ll close.

  Well, what do you know? Nate was right, it does fit.

  My reflection hardly looks like me. The tight-fitting dress falls just above my knees and makes my legs look a foot longer than they are. I wish I had a nice pair of heels to wear! Maybe Nate will let me stop by my apartment to grab the only pair I brought. They’ll match the dress well enough.

  The steep neckline shows more than I normally would. I take off my bra so it doesn’t show, and I’m surprised that the fabric keeps the girls at attention. I need to figure out what this dress is made of and buy reams of it. I’d never wear a bra again!

  After thoroughly checking myself out, I walk back into the bedroom. Nate has changed into a dark suit, similar to the one I saw him in the other night.

  I turn my back him. “Can you help me out?”

  He closes the distance between us in two long steps. Nate takes the zipper and slowly slides it up to its resting place between my shoulder blades.

  Nate flips me around so fast I nearly fall over. Without a word, his lips are on mine.

  The kiss is more passionate and aggressive than even the hallway kisses this morning. I pant into his mouth and claw at his shoulders. His hands stay firmly pressed against my hips.

  “You look gorgeous,” he says before dipping his tongue between my lips. I moan at the deep kiss.

  I want more. So much more. Screw the opening, we can stay here and enjoy the giant bed in this giant room. Everything about Nate is big: his career, his house, his…

  Suddenly, Nate pulls away. “If we don’t get going, we’ll be late, and my publicist will kill me.”

  He kisses me one last time then puts some much needed space between us. I wish we could skip the restaurant, but I get why Nate needs to be here. It is his restaurant, after all.

  “I have one more thing for you,” he says, reaching under the bed. Again, I’m struck by how extravagant this room is. I knew Nate was successful, but this is next-level. He really is killing it as a chef.

  Nate hands me a shoe box. Of course, the guy thought of everything! Inside is a sleek pair of gold heels that match the dress perfectly, and they’re exactly my size!

  “How did you know what size shoe I wear? Are you really that good at guessing?”

  “I wish, but no. I might have sneaked a peek at your shoes while we were in your apartment that first night, just in case.”

  I should be mad at him for snooping, but the dress and shoes are too gorgeous to complain. I slip into the heels with a hand on Nate’s shoulder for balance.

  With one last look in the mirror, I realize we look damn good together. I can’t admire us more, because Nate takes my hand and drags me out the door.

  I’m surprised when we end up in a twelve car garage packed with sports cars and antique vehicles my grandfather would kill to take out for a drive.

  “Your driver isn’t taking us?”

  “I thought it would be fun to go on our own tonight,” he says. He grabs a set of keys from the hook on the wall and opens the door to a red Porsche.

  Once inside, Nate starts up the engine. I’m not much of a car girl, but I can tell this thing has power. “You ready?” he asks.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer.

  With a hand on my thigh, teasingly creeping between my legs, Nate drives us to the restaurant. I’m excited to see what a real opening looks like, but even more excited to find out what Nate has in store when the night is over and we can finally try out his bed.

  12

  Alyssa

  Tuesday

  Since Nate told me his part in the opening was a surprise, I didn’t expect to see paparazzi outside the new restaurant.

  “How did they know you’d be here?” I ask.

  “They didn’t,” he grunts. “My team sent out press releases that this was a new celebrity restaurant, so that the press would turn out. I’d guess there are celebrities and other important people inside. They don’t care who it is opening the restaurant, they just care about the exposure.”

  This is the part of the industry I’m not sure I want to be a part of. If I did become a celebrity chef, could I get used to the cameras? Nate doesn’t seem to care.

  We step out of Nate’s sports car to a fury of flashes and questions. “Nathaniel! Nathaniel!”

  He smiles politely for the cameras and urges me to pose with him. This is crazy!

  “Who are you with, Nathaniel?” some of the paparazzi scream. “Is she a model?”

  I bite back a laugh. There’s no way these guys are mistaking me for a model. Either they’re being nice or they’re being jerks. I can’t tell which it is.

  Nate doesn’t answer their questions. He places a large, calloused hand on my lower back and guides me into the glass-front restaurant. It looks a lot like his other New York City location from the outside, but the inside is homier. The lighting is dim, the tables less fancy. It still looks high-end, but not as intimidating as the restaurant I stood outside a few days ago.

  Have I really only been in New York for a few days? It feels like a lifetime. More has happened in my three days here than my entire twenty years in Maine.

  A tall, handsome man meets us just inside the restaurant doors.

  “Nathaniel!” he calls out. “It’s about time you arrived. Fashionably late to your own opening.”

  Nate laughs. “You know me.” He gestures to me. “This is Alyssa. Alyssa, this is my financial manager and friend, David. He makes all of this possible.”

  David’s cheeks color. “He’s being modest. If it weren’t for his food, we wouldn’t have restaurants to open.”

  I admire the easiness between the two men. Even though David is technically Nate’s employee, they’re clearly close friends. I envy their familiarity.

  “Anyway, everything is set up. The crews came in through the back so that no one would see them. The guests are still unaware of who this party is for, but everyone signed the waivers to be on TV.”

  “TV?” I gasp. Sure enough, there is a crew holding cameras and sound sticks in the back corner of the restaurant. They’re different than the people outside. These cameras are meant for video, not still photos.

  “If I warned you, you wouldn’t have come,” Nate says. “We’re filming the opening for my reality show. Some of the bites will be on the cooking shows, too.”

  My heart races. I can’t be seen on TV with Nate! Everyone is going to know that I’m here as his date. No wonder he put me in this beautiful dress!

  “Don’t be mad!” he begs.

  The look in his eyes stops my anger. He told me earlier that he’s feeling unsure about this new opening. I’m not here just for arm candy, I’m here for moral support. I can do that.

  “It’s okay,” I assure him. “I’ve never been on TV before. This is kinda cool.”

  My nerves dissipate when Nate kisses me tenderly. “Thank you,” he whispers.

  He takes my hand and gives me the grand tour. It’s less intimate than it seems. The crew from his show follow us around. There are still twenty minutes until the restaurant opens officially, so the cameras have an opportunity to get some shots of the place without hundreds of people vying for screen time.

  “I wanted the dining room to be diffe
rent than the other restaurants,” Nate explains to his audience. “We’re still serving high quality food, but in a setting that feels more like your home dining room than a restaurant in New York City. I designed this place to be calm and relaxing. A sort of quiet in the storm kind of thing.”

  I nod along with his explanation, although it’s clearly meant more for the TV crew than for me. No fear or hesitation creeps into his voice as he speaks. Nate is in his element now.

  “Our bar is fully stocked with the finest wines, beers, and spirits. We even have a house beer created just for us, and an exclusive wine option. It’s all a part of how we’re making this restaurant stand out in a city full of great food options.”

  The cameramen drop their equipment to their sides.

  “That was great,” a man with a clipboard says. I’m guessing he’s the producer for Nate’s show. “Can we get some shots of the kitchen?”

  “Of course,” Nate says. He continues to hold my hand as he finishes up the tour. Being on camera is still nerve-wracking for me, but Nate squeezes my fingers to let me know he appreciates the brave face I’ve put on for him. I squeeze back so he knows I’m here for him.

  The kitchen looks like most restaurant kitchens. Everything is sterling silver and clean. This room is extra sanitary since it has never been used. By the end of the night, it won’t look as shiny.

  Nate drones on about the various surfaces throughout the kitchen, but it’s nothing new. The cameramen are eating it up, though. I suppose the viewers for his reality and cooking shows are interested in the makeup of a commercial kitchen. Watching the show will probably be the first time any of his viewers see behind the scenes at a fine-dining establishment.

  “Nathaniel?” a young man, probably a year older than me, says, walking into the kitchen. “We’re five minutes out, so we should get into position.”

  “Of course, Stephen,” Nate says. To the crew, he adds, “You’ll want to get set up for the official opening.”

  The producer escorts his men back into the dining room to prepare. Stephen waits patiently for Nate and me to follow him.

  “Stephen, this is my date, Alyssa,” Nate introduces. “Stephen is my assistant.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell him, shaking Stephen’s hand.

  “You, too.” Stephen focuses his attention on his charge. “We’ll have you stand at the hostess stand as people walk in. The cameras will capture the surprise when our guests discover you’re behind the restaurant. A bit of schmoozing and chatting, then we’ll seat everyone and move you to the kitchen. The network wants footage of you cooking the first meal, then we’ll send you back into the dining room while the executive chef takes over.”

  Nate claps Stephen on the back. “It’s not my first rodeo, Stephen.”

  Stephen flushes. “I’m sorry, sir…”

  “No need to apologize! It’s going to be great. Shall we?”

  The three of us make our way to the mahogany hostess stand. Tomorrow, when the restaurant is open to the public, there will be someone else here to guide guests to their seats. For today, Nate is that person.

  Guests flood through the doors. Stephen was right; everyone is shocked to find that Nate is the chef behind the restaurant.

  No one pays me any mind, and I’m okay with that. I like watching Nate in his element. He’s a different person than the teacher and the lover. It’s amazing how many sides to this man I’m discovering, and I like every single one.

  Everyone gathers in front of the bar. For one night only, the bar is free, so Nate’s guests help themselves to drinks. Someone hands Nate and me each a glass of dark red wine.

  Nate taps on his glass. “Thank you everyone for coming!” he shouts over the noise. “I’m excited to share my newest vision with the world. Please, enjoy a drink and take your time finding your seats. This is a party, and I want everyone to have a good time!”

  The crowd cheers. He leaves me with Stephen so he can do a cursory greeting with all the guests. He offers to let me come with him, but I’m overwhelmed by the celebrities in attendance. I wouldn’t be able to get out two words, so I’m better off here.

  A few people look in my direction and whisper, probably wondering who I am. I scan the crowd for Nate, but I’m met with eyes I recognize instead. My classmate and apparent enemy stands beside a couple who could only be her parents. She’s the spitting image of her mother. Samantha is staring in my direction with a hard look on her face.

  What will happen if she tells someone at school that I’m here with Nate? Is there a rule against us going out? I have no idea, but there probably is!

  I’m tempted to go tell Samantha to shut her mouth, but Nate introduces himself to her parents instead. From my vantage point, it looks like he’s schmoozing the hell out of them. Hopefully, that keeps Samantha from making a big deal out of what she saw.

  I won’t hold my breath. She seems like the vindictive type. She hated me already, and I didn’t do anything. I imagine she’s going to be way worse in class tomorrow.

  After less than ten minutes, Nate is back by my side. “I need to go cook,” he informs me. “Will you help me?”

  My eyes widen. “You want me to do what?”

  “Help me cook the first meal! You’ll do great, and it’ll be good exposure for you.”

  I grip his arm for stability. These heels aren’t made for freaking out.

  “I can’t help you in the kitchen!” I whisper. “This is the grand opening of your restaurant.”

  “It’s not like we’ve never cooked together, and you’re doing great in class.”

  “It’s been two days! And I left early today because you were mean to me.”

  His face falls.

  “I’m sorry for that, I really am. Please cook with me?”

  I can’t say no to him. It was fruitless to try.

  “Of course, I will,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”

  Back in the kitchen, Nate hands me an apron to cover my dress. I roll up my sleeves as best as I can. When we left Nate’s house, I wasn’t exactly planning on cooking! Not only is this dress inappropriate, but I’m in heels, too!

  “Okay, we’re making spaghetti with a bolognese sauce,” Nate says. “It’s simple and we can get it done pretty quickly.”

  “Got it. What do you want me to do?”

  “How about the pasta? The dough should be in the fridge, you just have to feed it through the pasta maker and then cook it.”

  Thank goodness I made it through that part of the homework chapter! I remember how to use the pasta maker. “I can handle that.”

  I get a pot of water boiling and grab the dough from the fridge. The pasta maker is already set to flatten the dough, so I feed it through. Then I feed it again, but it stays the same thickness. I need it a bit thinner if I’m going to cut it into spaghetti!

  “Try this,” Nate says, surprising me. He adjusts the size on the side of the pasta maker. “You’ll need to click it down one more width before you can feed it through the spaghetti mold.”

  “Thanks!” I tell him, our eyes meeting. There’s a fire behind his that excites me.

  I finish the pasta and drop it into the water, stirring a couple times. It doesn’t take long for fresh noodles to cook, so soon enough I’m joining Nate by the stove.

  “All done?” he asks, his focus on the skillet of meat in front of him. A pot to his right is simmering with red tomato sauce. Basil and oregano permeate the air.

  “Yeah, what’s next, chef?”

  He smiles. “Be my taste tester?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Nate drains the fat from the meat and tosses it with the sauce. Once they’re combined, he dips his spoon in and holds it up to my lips.

  “Careful,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

  I open my mouth slowly and take the spoon. My tongue captures every last drop of the sweet, acidic goodness of the sauce. Slowly, I pull back and release the spoon.

  Nate’s eyes are hotter than before, a fe
at I didn’t think possible. I’m glad my show turned him on as much as watching him cook does for me!

  “Delicious,” I tell him. “You’re amazing.”

  “So are you,” he says. “I think we’re done here.”

  “Don’t we need to plate it?”

  He calls to the chefs standing around waiting for their turn in the kitchen. “Plate this up,” is his command.

  Of course, they jump into action. Taking advantage of the commotion, Nate grabs my arm and drags me down a back hallway I hadn’t seen before and into a closet. What is he doing? Why are we in this tiny space that’s probably no more than five by five? He yanks a cord to light up the room, and sure enough a bare bulb flashes on, illuminating that handsome face, all shadows and planes.

  “I need you right now,” he growls. Ah ha. So that’s it. And to be honest, I want him just as badly. I want to feel that giant horse cock in me once again, and the tips of my breasts pebble on their own, pushing through the thin material of my shirt. My pussy is already wet, so close to him in these tiny confines.

  Nate yanks my apron off and pulls my dress up to my waist, pressing me against a cold shelf. He kisses me hard and lifts my hands above my head. My body shivers. I love being dominated by this commanding man.

  There isn’t much time with all the guests waiting for us outside, so Nate undoes his belt and pushes my panties to the side, baring my sweet, steaming slit.

  “Watching you cook does something to me,” he moans. His lips attach to mine once again.

  “I need to cook for you more often,” is my breathy reply as he strokes my clit, making me moan with pleasure. Oh god. I’m going to lose it, right here and right now.

  “That’s right, baby girl,” Nate growls. “I know you want it.” And in a second, he lines up our hips and thrusts inside me. The entire night has kept me wet and ready for him, and yet I can’t help but to gasp with shock.

  “You’re so big!” is my cry. I feel stretched beyond belief, my poor little pussy so tiny and penetrated so hard. He covers my mouth with his to keep me quiet. A large crowd is gathered not far from here. How embarrassing would it be for them to catch us?