Page 32 of Accidental Theirs (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #6)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

DAMIEN

Olivia walks into my office wearing another one of her short skirts and a demure, turtleneck blouse.

I do my best not to look at the lines of her thighs as she walks up to my desk. “What can I do for you, Ms. Carter?”

“Mr. Blackwood,” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice. “I wanted to give you a file. One of the new hires I’ve been concerned about.”

She slides a file folder across my desk, and I flip it open.

I don’t recognize the girl, but I do remember the name—Rosalind isn’t exactly a popular name these days, and I remember vaguely signing paperwork to hire her. I didn’t interview her myself, so that’s maybe why I don’t recognize her.

But she’s part of my team, and if there’s something sketchy going on, I need to know about it.

“I want you to talk to her,” Olivia says, and I look up at her, surprised.

“Why me?”

“Because everyone knows my face. You’re recognizable, but you’re not among all the employees as much as me. Plus, you’re technically her direct boss, right?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not exactly good at being discreet.”

“You can do it.” She sounds a lot more confident than I feel. “I believe in you, Damien.”

Oh no. My heart swells, and now I have to do it. This is my mission.

“I’ll find out what’s going on with her.”

“Thank you.” She smiles slightly and leaves and this time, I do watch the lines of her thighs as she goes.

I wish they were wrapped around my waist again.

I lick my lips and stand up, heading to the accounting department.

The only way I can do this is in person, since it’d be strange if the CEO just called up a minor employee. I don’t want to draw too much attention.

Everyone seems on edge as I walk through the department, and I basically stake out around Rosalind’s office.

Her door is closed, and nothing appears to be going on. At least not to the naked eye.

I wait until lunchtime before deciding to give up. She’s clearly never going to leave her office.

I’m nearly asleep when her door cracks open. I startle upright, slicking back my hair with one hand.

Her heels click on the linoleum as she leaves the building, and I sweep into her office quickly when no one is looking.

I’m rifling through the paperwork on her desk when the clicking sound gets closer.

I freeze, dropping everything, and manage to get on the other side of her desk, bracing my hands behind me, when she walks in.

She jumps, startled. “Mr. Blackwood? What are you doing here? ”

“I’ve, uh, been watching you, Mrs. Miles.”

“It’s Ms. Miles,” she corrects, taking a few steps forward, her chest poked out.

I clear my throat, confused.

She doesn’t seem angry the way I thought she’d be.

“I wanted to talk to you. Specifically, about the hall of records.”

“Hall of records?” She looks genuinely confused, her eyes wide. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“No,” I say quickly, but then she steps forward and puts her hands on my chest.

I draw in a sharp breath.

“Do you want me to be in trouble?” she breathes. “Do you want me to be a bad girl? Because I can be that, for you.”

“I, um...”

“I could be a good girl, too. Whatever you want,” she says quickly.

I fear I’m going to explode from how hot my cheeks are getting.

“Excuse me, Mr. Blackwood?”

I turn, and Olivia stands in the office doorway, poking just her head inside.

“Yes?”

Thank God. She’s come to save me.

“I need your signature. It’s urgent.” Her voice is firm.

Rosalind steps away from me. “I’ll be here until six, if you want to... finish our conversation.”

She’s giving me a certain look, but I try to avoid her gaze, just nodding dumbly and striding out into the hallway.

Olivia’s already crossing the catwalk, and I have to run to catch up with her, calling out her name.

She whirls around, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to go back and finish your conversation?”

“What? Olivia, you can’t think that I wanted that. ”

“Didn’t you? I heard you’ve been staking out her office all day.”

“Because you told me to . I was only trying to see if she was the leak.”

“And is she? Did you check in her panties, too?”

“Olivia.” I take her shoulders in my hands to turn her toward me and make her look at me. “You’re being irrational.”

I think she’s going to snap and yell at me, maybe hit me, but instead she slumps.

“I am being irrational, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” I pull her closer. “But I understand.”

“Do you? I have two other suitors?—”

“And no right to be jealous.”

“Exactly. I’m a jerk.” She pouts, and I laugh, kissing her forehead.

“You’re not a jerk. You’re just hormonal. And the jealous type.”

“Just like all the rest of you.” She groans, and I kiss her again, this time on the nose.

I move to her jawline, and then her throat, and when she moans, I smirk against her skin.

“It’s past lunch. Have you eaten?”

“Mmhm, at my desk.”

“Then you haven’t taken your hour lunch.”

“Not yet, no. Thought about leaving early.”

“You can leave whenever you want, but right now, you’re taking a lunch break with me.”

“But I’ve already eaten?—”

“I haven’t.” My eyes rove down her body, and she flushes, and I can’t help but grin.

“My place is closer,” she says, and twenty minutes later, I pull up at her place, having waited for her to leave first so that no one would get suspicious .

She’s going to start showing soon enough, and people will have to know, but for now, we’re trying to play our cards close to our chests.

She starts removing her blouse as soon as the door shuts, and I unbutton my own shirt, taking it off and discarding it on her floor.

I’ve already left my suit jacket behind in the car, and I make short work of pulling off that little skirt of hers.

She wears thigh highs, and I groan as I squeeze her thigh, kneading the flesh there.

“I know, I’m getting fat.” She pouts, and I squeeze harder, making her squeak.

“You look unbelievable. Edible.” I put all my conviction into my voice, and she softens.

“You really think so?”

“I know so. None of us can keep our hands off you.”

There’s a bruise on her inner thigh, and I wonder which of them left it there.

The thought sparks something in me, but it isn’t the sick jealousy I felt before.

It’s more about all the possibilities of having more than one set of hands to worship her with.

I’m already kneeling, having taken off her skirt and panties, and she stands there in just her thigh highs and heels.

I lean forward, biting a new bruise on her inner thigh, close to the other mark, and she cries out, putting her hands in my hair.

I push her up against the wall, looping one of her legs over my shoulders and pressing my face into her sex.

I breathe her in, loving her musk, and lap at her clit.

She moans, grinding her hips up, pressing herself against the flat of my tongue for more friction.

“Can’t wait, can you?” I growl, pressing my fingers inside her as I latch my lips around her clit .

She gasps out my name, and she’s already coming around my fingers, clenching hard.

I groan, kissing her inner thigh as I finger fuck her through her orgasm.

Olivia cups my face, bringing me up to kiss her with the taste of her still on my mouth, and I groan against her lips, pressing against her urgently.

She reaches into my unbuttoned slacks, groping me through my underwear, and I drag in a ragged breath, grabbing the back of her head to kiss her hungrily, thrusting into her hand.

I want her so badly I can’t think straight, so badly that my head is spinning. I can think of nothing but spilling inside her hot, wet walls.

“Damien, the bedroom,” she says against my lips, and I pick her up, groaning and thrusting against her against the wall for a moment.

I am desperate. Pathetic. Only for her.

My chest feels tight when I drop her down on the bed and she giggles, something inside me lighting up.

I’ve never had this. I’ve never had someone to come home to.

I have to admit, I’m getting used to it.

I shed my clothes before getting on my knees on the bed, looping her legs over my biceps so I can enter her.

She cries out when I slam into her, but she drags her nails down my shoulders, and I know that she loves it rough.

I’ve wanted her so long that there’s no real finesse, I’m just chasing my orgasm.

She nearly goes limp when she comes again, clenching tightly around me and moaning and whining.

“Look at you. Good girl, taking it so well.”

She gasps out a moan.

“Are you coming again, baby girl? ”

“Yes, yes, Damien, don’t stop…” Her voice cracks, and she lets out a long moan and that’s all I can take, I’m slamming into her and coming inside her in just a few thrusts.

She sighs happily, her nails turning from claws to light dragging across my skin.

I hiss when she moves her thumb over one of the scratch marks she left.

She sits up when I pull out and turns me around, gasping.

“I’m like a damn tiger.”

“My dad used to call them wildcats?”

She frowns. “Call who wildcats?”

My cheeks burn.

My father wasn’t the world’s most upstanding man. “Uh, I don’t know. Just... women who were good in bed.”

Olivia grins. “You think I’m good in bed?”

“Maybe the best.” It’s the truth, and I’m too fucked out not to admit it.

I slump down on the bed, putting a forearm behind my head.

She wiggles up next to me, putting her head on my chest, the slight swell of her belly poking my side.

I put an arm around her, lighting my fingers on her hip, and it’s comfortable, maybe the most comfortable I’ve ever been with a woman.

That should scare the shit out of me. So much of this should, but all I can do is chase how I feel when I’m with her.

She lights up the sky for me. That’s all there is to it.

“It’s time to go back to work, Mr. Blackwood.”

I nod, standing up and finding my clothes. “I’ll go first.”

I wink at her when I catch her watching, and she blushes.

I love making her blush.

“I’ll see you at work.” I leave her apartment with a grin stretching my cheeks, one that I haven’t felt in a long time.