Page 9 of Fake Wife for Dr. Secret Daddy

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I apologized quickly, rubbing her arm.

“It’s fine,” she sniffles. She leans away from me, and my fingertips twitch with the urge to grab her.

“What’s wrong, Winnie?”

Winnie shakes her head. She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it over one shoulder.

I know she’s only twenty-two, and at thirty-seven, I know that she’s young. But right now, she looks older than her years.

“Nothing.”

I don’t believe her. I bite the inside of my cheek, considering. “Winnie?—”

“Ted, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” She says harshly. I blink in surprise, and she sighs. Softening a little, she offers me a weak smile. “Okay?”

“Okay.” I agree. “It’s none of my business, but is there at least anything I can do to help?”

She looks at me, clearly about to say no. Then she hesitates.

“Anything,” I offer.

“I just want to not think for a while,” she murmurs. “Just… forget for a night.”

Winnie’s hand lands on my thigh, just above my knee. Her eyes flicker across my face, considering me slowly, and then she pushes down on me, using the pressure to raise herself until we’re face to face.

“Ted,” she whispers, her warm breath against my mouth. Her eyes lock on mine, and then she tilts her head just a little to the side. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

My heart hammers in my chest. I’m full of heat, want, and need, and it is inspiring, revolutionary, and delicious. I nod, and Winnie’s lips press against mine.

It’s the first time I’ve kissed her in two years. She’s soft and warm. She smells like vanilla and tastes like ChapStick.

The kiss is slow initially, building the longer we’re pressed together. Slowly, her lips open, her tongue brushing against mine. The kiss deepened, and my breath caught in my chest. She slides her hands up my chest to my shoulders, and then she grips me tight as she lifts herself, one leg on either side of me. I lean back, hands on her waist, the couch sinking with the pressure of us.

Winnie on my lap is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. That one night we had—ages ago—is a distant memory. All that matters now is Winnie, right here, right now.

Her hands move everywhere. She touches my neck, jaw, and cheeks. She winds her fingers in my hair, gripping tight. I’m overwhelmed, and when she pulls back, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath, my head starts to fill with doubt.

“Winnie,” I say; she winces at how rough my voice is. Her eyes are dark, her lips swollen, and she’s so fucking beautiful, I think I could die. “Winnie, we shouldn’t.”

She freezes. “You don’t want to?”

“Shit, I do,” I say. I almost whine. “I do, so fucking bad. But…”

“What, Austin?” she asks sarcastically, popping up an eyebrow. “I think it’s about two years too late for that.”

“I’m your boss.” I remind her.

Winnie’s fingers wrap around my tie. She glances up at me from beneath her lashes, a smile on her lips. “I’m off the clock.”

“I’m running out of excuses,” I admit.

“Good.”

She kisses me again. This time, I groan. I grab her around the waist, twisting us so that she’s lying flat on the couch, and I’m hovering over her. Already, my cock is swelling. Her teeth and tongue pull at my lips, and heat runs through my body.

“Just… for fun?” I ask, panting against her neck.

I feel her nod. “A little tension relief.”

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