Page 30 of Sold To My Ex's Dad

And that’s all I need. I thrust into her, and her pussy clenches hard one last time. I release, and so does she, my cock pulsing inside of her as I drain completely. I feel the heat of my cum as her tightness milks me dry.

I grunt hard, and she screams with wild abandon. Coming with her, rising together, brings everything to another level.

My legs are shaking as I finish and slide my cock out of her, a bit of my seed trickling out. I scoop my arm underneath her, turning her around and bringing her against me. She gazes up at me with those sexy eyes, and I can’t resist kissing her slowly, deeply.

“That was nice,” she says with a coy smile.

Chapter 18

Allie

“Are you okay?”

As we lay on the plush rug covering the cool, hard floor of his office, basking in the quiet aftermath of our escapade, I feel a glow radiating from within. It’s like I’m wrapped in a soft, warm blanket made of pure bliss.

"I’m more than okay," I breathe out, still caught in the haze of pleasure.

His rich and resonant laughter fills the room. "What about dessert?" he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness.

The suggestion spikes my heart rate again, curiosity mingling with possibilities. "I’d really like that," I reply, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him better. "But I think for tonight, I should probably head home."

He nods, a smile playing on his lips as he extends his hand to help me up. "Of course. Let’s get you home safe and sound," he says as we both stand and put on our clothing, trying to look somewhat presentable after our little kitchen rendezvous.

“So, is this your standard post-service routine, Chef?” I tease, fiddling with my shirt.

Patrick flashes a sly grin, expertly buttoning up his chef’s jacket. “Only when the evening’s performance is exceptionally noteworthy,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

We share a chuckle, but as I slip into my shoes, a sobering realization cuts through the laughter. Here I am, caught up with a man who's not only my boss but also my ex’s dad. The joy of the moment starts to feel a tad weighted.

Noticing my sudden quiet, Patrick’s expression shifts to concern. “Everything all right?” he asks, closing the gap between us with a few steps.

I force a smile, attempting to brush off the seriousness. “Just thinking about the muscle ache I’ll have tomorrow from tonight’s workout,” I jest, but the smile that follows doesn’t quite mask my unease.

He doesn’t miss a beat, though. Stepping closer, he gently lifts my chin with his fingers, ensuring I meet his eyes. “Allie, what’s really on your mind?” he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.

His straightforward concern and the tender way he touches me make my heart both swoon and sink. He’s so direct, so genuine, it strips away any pretense. “It’s a bit much, you know?” I confess, letting the words tumble out. “You're amazing, Patrick, and what’s happening between us is definitely something electric. But you’re also my boss. And Caleb’s dad. It’s kind of a lot to juggle.”

He listens intently, his thumb softly caressing my jawline. “I get it, and I never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. We can take things slow, step by step. I want you to feel safe with me,” he reassures me. His voice is as comforting as a warm cup of cocoa on a snowy day.

That earnestness, that promise of patience, does things to my heart. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.” I respond. My voice is soft, my defenses melting a bit more with his every word.

As we prepare to make our way out, a whirlwind of doubts starts to swirl in my mind. What if I'm reading all this wrong? What if this incredible connection is just temporary?

He places his hand on the small of my back, a gesture that makes me feel so damn good I could cry. But I play it cool.

He studies me for a moment, his concern palpable. "Are you sure you're okay to take the train home?" he asks. I'm not entirely accustomed to his protective tone of voice. “I can always drop you off.”

I manage a laugh, though it comes out a bit strained. "Yeah, I promise. I’m good, really," I insist, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the conversation. It’s been a while since anyone apart from Stacy has shown this kind of concern for me, and it feels both strange and heartwarming.

"All right, just making sure," he says, giving me a gentle smile that makes me want to spill all my fears and hopes right there. But I hold back, clinging to my self-protective instincts.

Patrick grabs his keys and gestures for me to follow. "I like to do a final walk-through every night," he explains as we stroll through the dimly lit restaurant, his presence comforting in the vast, quiet space.

"Every night? That's dedication," I remark, watching him expertly navigate between tables and chairs.

"Yeah," he nods, checking each section with a practiced eye. "Gotta make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow."

Curious, I lean a little closer. "And what happens if it’s not?"

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