Page 3 of The Baby Contract With My Hot Billionaire Boss

But I’m not so sure it’s a good thing. Because I desperately want more. That experience is going to be ingrained in my memory for a long time. But eventually, I’ll find another guy. A boyfriend, preferably, rather than a one-night-stand.

Because this kind of behavior is definitely not like me. But something about him …

The next day, when I report to work and start on my section, one of the other waitresses comes up to me.

“Boss wants to see you.”

“He does?” I give her a surprised look, and she shrugs.

“Don’t know. I was just told to send you up.”

Surely he can’t be expecting more of what happened yesterday, right? That can’t be why he’s calling me away from work.

But as soon as I walk into the office, the heat in his gaze tells me that’s exactly why he’s called me up here.

“Mr. Warren, I … Melissa said that you wanted to see me?” I’m playing dumb, and we both know it. As he strides closer to me, I can’t help the shiver that runs through my body, and as soon as his strong hands touch my waist, pulling me in without any preamble, I practically melt in his arms.

What is it about this man that makes me absolutely weak in the knees? And weak everywhere else as well?

My thoughts drift to those gorgeous eyes that seem to stare straight through me. And the scent of his body, both the cologne and the man underneath it. The way he says my name …

With a sigh that turns quickly into a moan, I allow him to claim my mouth and every inch of my body for whatever he may want, with the desperate hope that it’s everything I need. And it’s most definitely what I need. Definitely everything I was certain I must have mis-remembered from yesterday.

And the next day is the same.

And the next.

And before I know it, a week has passed, and he’s called me into his office every single day. I’ve even taken to wearing my nicer lingerie to work because I know I’m going to be taking off my clothes each time I see him.

Even though I know how much of a cliché it is for the cocktail waitress to be sleeping with the boss, I can’t help but crave it. Can’t help but want more. Though that doesn’t necessarily bode well for me. After all, I’m just the waitress.

What happens if he gets tired of me? No. When he gets tired of me? Because this can’t continue forever.

After work, I stop by my mom’s house to check on her and my sister and I can’t help but daydream about my super hot boss.

“Em?” I jump slightly at the voice and turn toward my sister.

“Leann, what’s up?”

“What’s up is I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes. You’ve been off in your own world.”

“Oh, sorry. I was … just thinking about work.” Technically true but also not. I blush but keep my head down so she doesn’t notice.

“Do you like your job?”

“It’s not bad.” And that’s true. The job itself is fine. The perks that I’ve been getting the last week have made it even more so.

“Maybe I could do that.”

“You have to be older,” I say quickly. Not that I want Leann to be a cocktail waitress anyway.

“Well, I need to get a job of some kind.” Her voice is very matter-of-fact, and I feel a pang in my chest at the thought. I don’t want Leann to have a job. She’s too young for that. She’s still in high school, for goodness’ sake.

My eyes drift to the fridge where the pictures and the array of ‘A’ papers have been shoved to the edges to make room for one thing. A calendar.

A calendar that’s filled with appointments.

Dr. Carmichael, Tuesday, 12 o’clock.

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