Page 4

4

OTTO

Mr. Sinclair’s bed was comfortable but having him pressed tightly against my body was even better. I didn’t want to leave him, but I needed to make my escape before the sun started to rise. I couldn’t risk him seeing me.

After slowly extracting myself from his grip, I got dressed and let myself out before anyone noticed me.

The evidence of our night still lingered on my skin, and I wanted to leave it there. The mixture of sweat and saliva and the milk that had flowed from me to him throughout the night was enough to keep me hard even as I jogged down the street to my car. Remembering every time Preston’s lips clutched my skin and then pulled my milk into his mouth made me wish he was sucking a different part of me down his throat.

His lips had been gentle on my nipples, but his need was undeniable. Every pull sent waves of relief and arousal through my body as I imagined what the scene was like in my head. Of course, Mr. Sinclair was completely unaware that it was me, the new driver he low-key hated, who was in his bed. That secret was already filling me with anxiety, and I wondered if he would have any way of knowing it was me when I saw him next.

I’d gotten enough sleep that instead of going home and trying to catch an hour or two of sleep, I went to an all-night diner, had breakfast, and then obsessed over my situation.

When I was about to burst from finishing a tall stack of pancakes, Mr. Sinclair sent me a text to say he would be ready soon. At least I wasn’t fired. Yet.

I left some cash on the table and jogged to my car so I could get back to Mr. Sinclair’s. As soon as I was there, I parked my car and went into the garage to get the keys to his SUV. He had a fleet of cars, and as I pulled the vehicle around and waited outside his front door, I wondered if he ever drove them. I couldn’t see the slim man ever driving himself anywhere. He was too powerful.

Preston Sinclair was a man people tended to. Just as I’d tended to him last night. Though I didn’t think anyone in the world would believe that the rich and successful CEO by day liked to suckle to sleep at night.

A few moments after I stepped out of the car, Mr. Sinclair emerged from his house. A golden glow seemed to surround him like an aura as he looked up at me and waved. What the fuck? His usually stern features had been softened overnight, and there was a spring in his step that hadn't been there yesterday. “Good morning, Otto.” He nodded as I opened the door for him. “Looks like it’s gonna be a beautiful day.”

“Good morning, Mr. Sinclair. Yes, it’s unusually sunny, it seems.” I wasn’t just referring to the weather. Even with just a quick glance, I could tell that the shadows under his eyes had been erased. Did a good night’s sleep actually have that kind of healing power?

As he settled into the back seat, I ran around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. The atmosphere was different from our previous rides. Instead of scowling at his phone like it had personally offended him, Preston looked out the window and smiled at a chipmunk that scurried up a tree.

Unsure if I should try to engage him in conversation, I pulled out of his driveway and just watched him through the rearview mirror. He hummed a tune and tapped the beat with his fingers like he didn’t have a care in the world. Did I do that? Was I responsible for the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree change in his demeanor? A smile tugged at my lips as a burst of pride filled me. Maybe I could make a meaningful contribution to the world.

As I navigated down the road toward his office, Preston did something I never expected. He offered me a compliment that was completely unsolicited.

"You handle this beast like a NASCAR driver, Otto. Not everyone can skirt this mountain so smoothly. Great job."

It took me a second to gather myself before I cleared the shock out of my throat. "Thank you, sir." My hands tightened on the wheel as my nerves knotted in my gut. “You seem to be feeling good today.”

“I am.” He inhaled a slow, deep breath and then blew it out. “I slept better than I have in…a long time. I feel like a new man.”

When we arrived at his office, Preston stepped out with a renewed vigor and looked out at the mountain range as if he were appreciating its beauty for the very first time. “Have a great day, Otto. I’ll text when I’m ready to be picked up.”

My lungs didn’t move at all as I watched him disappear into his building. Somehow, he hadn't recognized me or sensed that I was not only his driver but the man who'd cradled him to my chest throughout the night.

Finally ready for a nap, I headed home and got cleaned up. I had plenty of errands to run but the exhaustion of staying up late and waking early was starting to creep up on me. After a quick shower and an orgasm that almost brought me to my knees, I dried off and slipped into my bed without a stitch of clothing on. I preferred to sleep nude, but I wouldn’t be doing that while I was spending my nights in Mr. Sinclair’s bed.

As I drifted off to sleep with my phone beside my head and the ringer all the way up so I wouldn’t miss a message, I imagined feeding Preston my milk with the lights on and him fully aware of who I was…

I woke up just after twelve and made a breakfast burrito and then headed out to run some errands. If I was going to be playing wet nurse for more than a few days, I needed to get some dry-wear clothing with absorbent chest pads to capture any leakage. When I didn’t pump or nurse, I rarely leaked. But once I started that flow on a regular basis, my body was quick to produce way more than I needed, which meant I had to stay ahead of embarrassing wet spots and would probably need to start pumping on days I wasn’t with Mr. Sinclair.

Although, if he always reacted that well to a belly full of milk, I couldn’t imagine him ever wanting to stop.

Unless, of course, he discovered it was me on the other side of his bed. Someone in his life and connected to him publicly in a way that could destroy his reputation. Not that I would ever do anything like that.

As the afternoon waned, I knew Mr. Sinclair would be ready soon, so I grabbed a new police thriller I’d been meaning to read and headed to his office. I preferred to be in the lot a good hour before I thought he would need me, just in case he decided to leave early.

I’d only gotten to page three of my book when I got the text from Preston. I’m ready to go at any time. No rush if you’re not here yet. Just text when you arrive and I’ll come down.

Once again, I was speechless. Preston Sinclair did not wait for his staff to be ready for him. Maybe he was actually allergic to my milk and having some kind of reaction to it. I wasn’t complaining, but I was definitely…surprised. I’m in the parking structure now. I’ll pull to the front and wait. Take your time.

A minute later, I was pulling to a stop in front of his door when I got his response. In the elevator now. And do you mind if we swing by the market on the way home? I’d like to pick up a few bottles of wine for dinner.

Of course, sir. He wanted wine with his dinner. That was interesting. Maybe he wasn’t planning on having me back after all. Wine was a great sleep aid, and a person could only drink so much liquid at bedtime without running to the bathroom all night.

When he emerged from the glass doors, he was smiling and just as chipper as he had been that morning. I wanted to make small talk and possibly hint that I was able to lactate to feel out how that conversation could go, but with all the NDAs I’d signed, I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. Even in the privacy of his own vehicle, maybe I had to wait for him to broach the topic. In the end, the ride to his home was quiet, with only occasional hums coming from the backseat as Preston smiled down at his phone.

When we stopped at the store, he was only inside for about ten minutes before returning with a paper bag that I assumed was filled with wine. The bag seemed unusually full, but I couldn’t tell exactly what was inside. Not that it was any of my business.

I supplied what I hoped he truly wanted, so whatever he was buying at the store was inconsequential to me.

Just as I pulled to a stop in front of the Sinclair residence, an unexpected movement caught me off guard. Mr. Sinclair had leaned forward and was just a few inches away from me. His breath brushed against my neck as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes as if savoring the scent like he could sense exactly what was hiding beneath my shirt.

For a heartbeat, time stood still, and I waited for him to make the connection between me and his night nurse. But then, he quickly pulled away and whatever curiosity that had made him take a whiff of me was gone.

"I like your cologne, Otto.” He leaned back and waited for me to let him out.

“Oh, thank you, sir.” I jumped out of the car and ran to his door to open it for him.

Preston stepped out of the car as I held open his door, and when I offered him my hand for balance, he accepted it and even rubbed his thumb along the raised scar on my hand. “Have a great evening, Otto,"

I cleared my throat and nodded. “You too, Mr. Sinclair. See you tomorrow.” Unless I crawl into your bed tonight.

As soon as I was back in the driver's seat, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was a notification from the agency confirming my appointment with Preston for ten pm. There was a secondary message that included a fat bonus from the client for my professionalism and discretion.

A thousand dollar bonus for one night's work. Lying silently in a bed had never seemed so lucrative.

More importantly, he wanted me to come back. This was definitely the best job I'd ever had.