Making His Baby(128)

High school was years ago, yet seeing her today had erased the passage of time and transported me back to that art room where I sat longing for her affection.

Pushing my car door open, I decide to face the music.

I don’t get a chance to even knock on the door before she swings it open with a radiant smile plastered on her beautiful face.

She looks slightly rejuvenated already.

“Hi there,” she says with a gleeful lilt to her voice.

And nothing makes me happier than to know I’ve played a role in her apparent happiness.

Suddenly, I’m thrilled that I let my assistant talk me into creating this contest to celebrate the five-year anniversary of the app launching.

I’ll have to send my assistant flowers and chocolate to show my appreciation.

“Hey, yourself,” I smile down at her. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep,” she replies, standing on tiptoe to look over my shoulder. “Is that our car for the evening?”

My cock twitches at her proximity. Her natural feminine scent mixed with the smell of her fruity shampoo does a number on me.

I step back, creating distance and let her walk in front of me.

Big mistake.

The strappy sundress she’s wearing is completely backless. The bright, floral material falls over her petite frame, the bottom brushing the ground as we walk to the car.

My eyes are drawn like magnets to the sway of her hips and the enticing dip in her back.

Holy fuck.

Opening the passenger door, I offer a hand to help her up since the Jeep sits up pretty high.

When her small palm is in mine, a shock ripples through me, similar to the one that jolted me when I handed over her check earlier today.

“Thank you,” Olivia says once she’s seated.

Without thinking, I reach over her and secure her seatbelt as if she’s incapable.

Admittedly, the urge to take care of her is just impossible to ignore.

A charged look passes between the two of us but neither of us dare break the silence.

As I round the front of the car to get the driver’s side, the bulge in my pants throbs, eager for release.



***



A burger. Of all the things that Olivia could try on the menu, she’d settled for a burger that was the size of her face and a heaping side of curly fries.

But I must admit, I’m enjoying watching her eat it.

“You do realize you could eat that in Tennessee, right?”

“Mmm, but it’s so delicious here!” she says, shoving more fries into her mouth.

I shake my head and laugh as I continue to watch her, my meal all but forgotten.

There’s a dab of mayo on the corner of her mouth and my mind jumps straight to the gutter.

I imagine my cum smeared across her mouth as she kneels before me, on her knees, my cock buried deep in her throat.

As if my erection couldn’t get any more painful, my dick throbs, wanting to bring my fantasy to life.

“What?” Olivia asks self-consciously, noticing my gaze is fixed on her mouth.

Snapping out of my salacious thoughts, I smirk and shake my head.

“Nothing, you just have some mayo on your lip.”

Reaching up, Olivia swipes the wrong side of her mouth.

Amused, I grab the napkin situated in my lap and reach across the table to help her.

She freezes at the contact, her green eyes darkening to a deep jade color before she mutters her thanks.

Pleased that she’s just as affected by me as I am by her, I relax a little and slouch against my chair.

We’re seated outside at a popular restaurant on the island. Live music is playing and the beach is only yards away but the atmosphere is lost on me as I focus on Olivia.

“So, tell me more about your life.”

She smiles self-deprecatingly.

“In comparison to yours, I’m sure it’s pretty boring.”

Glancing down at the table self-consciously, she avoids eye contact.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“There’s not much to tell. I went to Guildford Tech after graduation and got my license as a certified nursing assistant. After that, I got a gig at the only nursing home in town and worked there for about seven years before I quit due to personal reasons. I’m currently a live-in aid for an eighty-year-old dementia patient named Arnold. I love my job and it’s very rewarding. But also pretty exhausting. That’s why I entered the contest. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a vacation. Of course at the time, I didn’t know you were the creator of the app. I nearly fell down the stairs when I saw you waiting for me.”

I smile easily at her admission. Intrigued, I want to know the personal reason that led her to quit her job at the nursing home, but I don’t feel like I have the right to ask.

And why the hell hadn’t she gone off to college to become a registered nurse? I was there the day she opened her acceptance letter to Tennessee State and knew she had big plans of moving to a city and working at a top hospital.