Daddy's Baby: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  She’s young, probably nineteen, and it has to be Julia’s daughter. But where Julia is thin and harsh, this woman is absolutely beautiful. Her breasts are full and thick, and her long auburn hair reaches down to the middle of her back in heavy waves. Her wide green eyes blink at me, and her pale skin is smooth and beautiful. For a second, I want to walk over to her, grab her by the hips, and kiss her on the lips. It’s crazy, because she must be nineteen years old, but I can barely control myself. I feel my cock stirring in my pants just looking at her in a bikini.

  She blushes slightly and looks at her mother. “Hey, mom,” she says.

  “Oh, Sydney. This is Connor.” Julia gestures at me. “Connor, this is my daughter, Sydney.”

  I walk over to her and we shake hands. I have to force myself not to stare at her body. “Nice to meet you,” I say to her.

  “You too.” Our hands linger for a moment longer than is normal before she releases me. Her eyes bore into mine, and for a second I know she’s thinking the same thing I am, I can see it clear as day on her face. She wants me, needs me to take her out back and fuck her tight little pussy rough and deep, make her feel what a real man can do to her.

  But the moment passes and she looks back at her mother. “I’ll be upstairs,” she says. “Nice to meet you, Connor.” She flashes me that radiant smile again and then disappears.

  I have to see her again. That’s the only thing I can think of as soon as she’s out of the room. I haven’t been so struck by a woman in a long time, maybe never before. I feel a strange absence without her around all of a sudden, and I don’t even know how to explain it.

  “What were you going to say, Connor?” Julia asks me, snapping me out of my trance.

  I look at her though I still feel like I’m in a daze. “I’ll do it,” I hear myself saying from very far away.

  She smiles huge. “Wonderful. We’ll discuss the details. Come, sit down, let’s get started.”

  I move robotically over to my seat, not sure what the hell just happened. I should get the fuck out of here before I really marry this woman and commit myself, but I can’t do it. If I leave, I’ll never see Sydney again, and that just isn’t a fucking option.

  I sit down and we begin to discuss the details, but all the while my mind is upstairs with Sydney, slowly undressing her, making her mine.

  2

  Sydney

  It’s summer, and that should mean I’m out having fun. I should be spending time with friends and going out every night, discussing what freshman year at college is like, that sort of stuff.

  Instead, I’m bored out of my mind. It’s my own fault. Part of me hoped that people would come home their first summer after freshman year, but I was totally wrong. Stacey, my closest friend, got an internship in New York. Brian is staying in Colorado with his grandparents, Lucille is traveling in Europe, and Angela got an apartment just off campus.

  It feels like I’m the only one that’s just standing still. I’m nineteen years old and I still live at home, which was my choice, of course. I didn’t have to stay home. I was accepted into Harvard, and everyone around me kept pushing me to accept, telling me how amazing it was. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, at least according to my friends and family, and yet it didn’t feel that way to me.

  Everyone was surprised when I decided not to go to school at all. Harvard deferred my acceptance and is still waiting on my response, mostly because I think my grandfather bribed them, which doesn’t help.

  The whole point of taking time off school is to figure out who I am outside of my family. My mother is this high-powered CEO that works for the company her father started, and my uncle is involved with managing it as well. Everyone in my family is a part of this business dynasty, and yet I want nothing to do with it.

  If I went to Harvard, I can already see my future. I’d work for my mother at Rydell Electric and slowly work my way up the corporate ladder. I’d marry some other Harvard grad and we’d have nice little Harvard babies, live in a nice house in a nice town and I’d be so bored out of my mind that I’d want to die.

  It’s stupid to complain about, I know. I have an easy life. My biggest problem is not wanting to go to Harvard and have a comfortable existence, which is totally privileged and silly. That’s part of the problem. I don’t want to be this rich spoiled brat that just gets everything handed to me, and I know Harvard took me because of my grandfather and not because of my own merits.

  So I did the unthinkable and I stayed home when all my friends went off to school. We kept in touch at first, and I visited a little bit, but slowly they drifted away. Now it’s just the occasional text and email and Facebook post, and I hardly feel like we’re even friends anymore.

  I never wanted to sit at home like this. I had grand plans, big ideas, but nothing ever panned out. My mother doesn’t pressure me, because I know she loves me, but I can tell she’s ready for me to leave. Hell, I’m ready for me to leave. But the longer I stay in her house, the deeper into this funk I get, and I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it.

  That’s how I find myself sitting home alone in my room at the height of summer on a Saturday night, wishing I were anywhere else but here, and researching Teach for America.

  I don’t know what the heck I’m going to do. I’m not qualified to do anything without a college degree. I sigh to myself and start to seriously consider going to Harvard and becoming the person I don’t want to be, just to have some sort of direction to my days.

  “Honey?”

  I perk up for a second. It’s my mother’s voice from downstairs. “Yeah?” I call back.

  “Come here for a second.”

  I get up from my laptop and walk out into the hallway. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I pass. Sweatpants, tank top, and messy hair. I’m not even sure that I showered today.

  I need to get my life together, and fast. I’m becoming a loser.

  “Hey, sweetie,” my mom says as I look down over at the bannister at her. “Can you come down here for a second?”

  I cock my head at her. “Sure. What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  She laughs. “It’s Saturday night, honey.”

  “I know. You’re usually working.”

  She gives me that ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about but I really do’ look she has as I come down the stairs.

  “Well, I’m not working tonight. I actually have something important I want to tell you.”

  “Okay,” I say, frowning at her. “Is granddad okay?”

  “He’s fine,” she says, waving her hand. “It’s about me, actually.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, a little skeptical. “Are you okay?”

  She laughs. “What’s with you? I’m fine.”

  “Well, spit it out, mom. You’re freaking me out.”

  “Come here, into the kitchen.” She takes my arm and leads me down the hallway. I don’t know what’s happening, but I have a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach that I can’t quite place. I don’t know if it’s dread or excitement, but I don’t know why it would be either.

  We round the corner and step into the kitchen. I stop dead in my tracks as I catch sight of him.

  I recognize him. I think his name is Connor. I met him a couple of weeks ago, when I was coming in from swimming. He’s handsome with piercing blue eyes stubble all around his cheeks and his chin. He looks rugged and intense. He’s well built, very muscular, and clearly takes very good care of himself. Although he must be a lot older than me, and I’m guessing he’s actually probably late thirties, although he doesn’t look it. He’s wearing a suit and a tie, and I realize that mom’s dressed up as well. I’m suddenly extremely self-conscious as this handsome man smiles at me, his eyes staring intently into mine.

  “Do you remember Connor?” Mom asks me.

  “I do,” I say. “You were here a couple weeks ago.”

  “That’s right,” he says, standing. “It’s nice to meet you again.” He walks
over and shakes my hand again, holding on for a second too long, and I feel something flutter in my chest.

  He’s handsome. Really, really handsome. I didn’t know I was into older men, since this guy is at least twenty years my senior, but I don’t care. He’s rugged and strong in that really attractive way. He probably looks equally good in a bathing suit, in a white t-shirt, and in a suit and tie.

  My mom steps away from me and takes Connor’s arm, smiling at me. My eyes widen for a second, and I don’t understand what’s happening.

  “Sweetie, we have some news,” she says. “Are you ready?”

  “No,” I say.

  “We’re getting married!”

  I gape at my mother, at a complete loss for words. Connor looks a little embarrassed, but he’s doing his best to smile anyway. I feel totally ambushed and shocked.

  I thought he was some kind of client or security guy when I first met him. I didn’t know my mom was dating him. Actually, I didn’t know my mom was dating at all. As far as I can tell, her job demands every single second of her time, and she’s completely content to do that.

  And now she wants to get married? That makes absolutely no sense to me. She barely has time to see me, let alone to have a husband. And as far as I know, she barely knows this guy. She’s been resisting granddad’s push for her to get married for as long as I can remember and has always said that she has no interest in marriage.

  Now, suddenly, she wants to marry this... man. This handsome, sexy man. I can see the appeal there, but I still don’t get it.

  “Well?” she asks. “What do you think?”

  “Uh,” I say finally, “that’s, uh, great. When did this happen?”

  She smiles huge. “Come on, sit down. We’ll talk about it.”

  We head over to the kitchen table and sit down. I keep glancing at Connor, and he keeps looking back at me with this strange look on his face. He’s studying me, like he’s trying to take me in and understand me. It should make me uncomfortable, but instead it makes my heart beat faster in my chest.

  “When did this happen?” I ask my mom.

  “Recently,” she admits. “None of this was planned. We met and, well, things progressed.”

  Connor doesn’t say a word. He smiles, but I get the sense that he wants Mom to do the talking.

  “And now you’re getting married?” I ask.

  She nods. “That’s right.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just, you used to say you never wanted to get married.”

  “Things change,” she says. “Connor is a good man, he’ll make a good stepfather.”

  “I don’t want to break into your family,” he says softly. “But I hope we can become friends.”

  I look at him and nod. “Sure, okay. That would be... nice.”

  He smirks at me. “I know this is a little weird.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “A little weird?”

  “Okay, very weird.” His grin gets bigger. “It’s coming out of nowhere, right?”

  “Right,” I say. “How did you...?”

  “Convince her to marry me?” He glances at my mom and shrugs. “I guess it’s just my rugged good looks and charm.”

  She makes a face. “Don’t be so cocky, Connor.”

  “Is it cocky if it’s true?” He smirks at me again and I feel myself blushing a little bit. I wish I had showered earlier and maybe put something better on. I look like a total scrub right now, and this is the worst possible way to really meet Connor for the first time.

  “When’s the wedding?” I ask.

  “Small ceremony,” Mom says. “And it’s next week.”

  “Next week?” I feel shocked all over again. “Why so soon?”

  “Neither of us care about a large wedding, so we see no reason to wait,” Mom says.

  “But, it’s just—“

  “It’s fast,” Connor agrees with me. “I guess I’m just an impatient man.”

  I shake my head at Mom, not sure what to think.

  “I know it’s a lot to process,” she says. “Connor and I are going out to dinner tonight. Think about it and if you have any questions, ask me.”

  I cock my head at her. “Is he... coming to live here?”

  She nods, smiling. “Of course, honey.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  I watch as they stand up. I think they say some other things, but at this point, I’m totally tuned out. Eventually I find myself alone in the kitchen feeling something very similar to shell shock.

  My mother is getting married to an incredibly handsome and charming man, and it’s happening next week. Yesterday I didn’t even know about this guy, and now in a week he’s going to be my stepdad. I don’t know how to feel about that.

  And to top it all off, he’s going to live with us. There hasn’t been a man in our house in a very long time, and now suddenly this gorgeous guy is going to be around constantly. I’m used to walking around upstairs in my underwear between the bathroom and my bedroom, and laying around in my bikini when it’s nice out.

  Based on the way he looks at me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do any of that. Then again, I’m not sure I even mind if he looks at me that way.

  Which is totally crazy. He’s marrying my mom and already I’m having these thoughts about him.

  I can’t help it. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for his strong hands to press me down on the couch, feeling my sides and my hips as his hard cock presses between my legs. It would be so fucked up, but he’s not my stepdad, not yet at least. I can fantasize a little bit for the next week, and then I’ll be done thinking about him.

  We’ll be one big happy family. My mother’s change of heart is totally weird and freaking me out a little bit, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I wouldn’t want to change her mind anyway, not if she’s genuinely happy.

  I’ll get used to having Connor around eventually. He’ll just become another part of my life, my handsome and gorgeous stepdad.

  Or maybe I won’t get used to it. Maybe I’ll just keep fantasizing about him, thinking about his lips against mine.

  At the very least, it’ll be a good motivator. Maybe now I’ll finally get out of the house, at least to escape my strange sexual fantasies about my stepfather.

  3

  Connor

  I never thought I’d actually get married, but apparently I was very fucking wrong.

  I hate wearing tuxedos. I feel completely out of place in it, but Julia insisted and it’s not my place to rock the fucking boat. Every second I’m wearing this thing, I have to remind myself why I’m doing this.

  It’s for the money. Of course it’s for the money. It’s definitely not for the beautiful nineteen-year-old girl wearing a low-cut dress standing a few feet away from me right now. Definitely not for her, that would be fucked up and wrong, considering she’s about to become my stepdaughter.

  The ceremony is taking place in Julia’s back yard, which is surprisingly large. She invited her father though he didn’t come because of his illness, her brother and his family, plus a few other extended relatives and coworkers. In all, there are maybe thirty people here, which is absurdly small given how expensive this wedding clearly is.

  It’s all catered plus a live band. Although she wanted to keep it small, she still spent a fair amount on flowers, place settings, tables and chairs, and all that shit. It’s overkill, and I said we should just go to city hall, but she insisted we have at least something.

  I spent most of my morning getting briefed by Julia and going over our cover story. I’m to tell people that we met while she was on vacation last year and were dating in secret ever since. We fell in love and decided to make it official, but we don’t want a big wedding, not at all.

  The whole thing is a sham. Very literally, it’s a fucking sham, and I’m a part of it. I don’t exactly feel bad lying about this sort of thing, since it’s a lie that won’t hurt anyone. Except for maybe Sydney. The rest of Julia’s family and coworkers seem nice e
nough, but none of them really strike me as people worth giving a shit about. She clearly doesn’t.

  I order a whisky at the bar. I have a few spare minutes while the guests mingle and drink, waiting for the ceremony to start. Dinner comes after that, plus a speech by her brother. Nobody is asking me why my family isn’t present, which is all well and good, since I don’t have any. But it is strange that nobody seems to care.

  “Nervous?”

  I’m pulled out of my thoughts and look next to me. Sydney smiles at me, a dazzling thing that sets my heart pounding. “Not at all,” I say.

  “I would be. You’re in the middle of the Hall family now.” She smiles then orders a white wine from the bartender. She’s only nineteen, but I doubt anyone will care if she drinks.

  “And what’s that mean?”

  She shrugs and walks over toward an empty tent. I follow her, sipping my drink. “Mom hasn’t told you?”

  I shake my head, keeping my face straight. “Not too much, no.”

  “Funny,” she says, cocking her head. “You two have been dating for how long?”

  “One year,” I regurgitate. “We met while she was on vacation.”

  “Oh,” she says. “Which vacation was that?”

  I pause, trying to remember. Was it fucking Jamaica or Saint Croix? “Jamaica,” I say.

  She nods, sipping her wine. “Well, she should have mentioned how crazy these people are.”

  I smile at her, feeling a little relieved that I passed her test. But it’s interesting that she was testing me at all. “How so?” I ask.

  “Oh, you know. Lots of money. Even more egos. Makes people crazy.”

  I can’t help but laugh a little. “So you’re different, I take it?”

  She frowns slightly. “Trying to be, at least.”

  “Good. Trying is more than they do, I bet.”

  “You’re right about that.” She smiles at me. “So, you know, Mom never said. What do you do, exactly?”

  “Private security,” I say.