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My Boss My Babydaddy  Novel Cover

My Boss My Babydaddy

Roses are red, tequila hits hard, and I danced like I owned the damn night. Now? Everything's a hot mess. Emily Hart just landed the dream job, personal secretary to the sinfully rich, dangerously fine CEO of Steele Empire. So naturally, she did what any girl with a fat offer letter and a killer dress would do: hit the club, danced like a vixen, and threw back shots until reality blurred and pleasure took the wheel. That's when he happened. Dominic Steele. Billionaire boss. Ruthless in the boardroom. Untamed in the bedroom. He saw her, hips swaying, lips smirking, black dress clinging like a second skin, and he didn't ask for a name. He just took. One night. One filthy, breathless, back-arching night. No promises. No names. Just raw heat and moans that echoed past midnight. Until Monday morning happened. Now, the man who made her beg without words is standing behind a glass desk in a tailored suit, And she's the new secretary who can't look him in the eye without remembering how he made her scream. She thinks he's cocky as hell. He thinks she's the sweetest kind of chaos. But when a missed period makes an unexpected appearance, it's no longer just business. It's Daddy, please....... with a whole lot of tension, temptation, and trouble in between.
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Chapter 4

Dominic's POV

"Telling her it was a mistake is the right thing to do; I can't afford for anything more to happen between us," I said in my head, standing up to stare at my window, which seems to be my safe space. Helps me think straight.

 I thought it was going to be like every other one-night stand, but it wasn't.

 It was way more than that.

 Every thrust I made connected me with her.

 Her every moan is stuck deep in my head, and they keep playing like a sweet, sensual record label. And I loved it. I allowed myself to feel that even if it's just for a moment. Just for a night. That was all it was meant to be. I never thought of seeing her ever again, especially not as my secretary, but I guess the universe has a way of messing with me.

 Every other woman I've slept with, I don't mind seeing them cause it's easy to deny them or threaten them off my back. But this woman, who just walked out of my office as my secretary, I definitely didn't want to see again. I wanted to erase everything about her and about the night we spent together from my head.

 A knock on the door brought me out of thought. "Come in," I said, sitting down and putting on my poker face.

 Emily walked in with my coffee, swaying those delicious-looking hips of hers. I watched her set the cup down and turned back to walk out. So I spoke,

 "Call the caterers, update the gala menu. Make sure the wine is from the Bordeaux private reserve."

 These are things my assistant downstairs could do.

 But I needed her near me just for a bit.

 Then I heard it, the sass she muttered under her breath.

 Something like, "Because God forbid the billionaires drink anything that isn't older than my apartment lease."

 I nearly choked on my coffee.

 My fingers froze. I looked up, and there she was, all innocent smile and sugary sass.

 "Excuse me?" I said.

 She batted her lashes. "I said I'll call them right away, Mr. Steele."

 I stared at her for a moment before letting her go back to work.

 After I had my coffee, I got consumed with work, and I shoved everything that had to do with Emily buried away. Where it should be. Keeping it professional is the right thing to do. I can't afford anything going on between us. It can never happen. I don't do feelings. I don't love. Someone is only going to get hurt, and I can't risk that happening. I'm already engaged to someone unwilling. An engagement that will definitely not end in marriage.

 It is just a business deal, and that's all it will ever be.

 "I don't plan on settling down. I don't think I ever will, and even if I do settle down, it will never be with Sabrina Rodriguez." I thought loudly in my head.

 ⸻

 A few hours later,

 "I need a drink," I said, rounding up the files on my table and grabbing my things to leave the office.

 Getting out, I took a few minutes to stare at Emily before leaving.

 "And something to take my mind off the woman upstairs." I got into my car and drove down to the nearest bar I could find.

 –––

 Third person pov:

 The bar was dim. The kind of lowlight that made sins easier to commit.

 Dominic sat with his third glass of scotch, his jaw tight, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to say he didn't give a damn anymore.

 But he did. God, he did.

 Because no matter how hard he tried to blur her out with alcohol, Emily's face kept slicing through the haze. The taste of her lips, the way her moans still echoed in his ears, the way he acts professional and cold in the office now, like he hadn't once been buried so deep inside her that she clawed at his back.

 One night. That was all it took to screw up his head.

 And now? She was his secretary. Imagine seeing her every day. Fucking. Day. In that tight blouse, with her little smirk, she tried to hide behind polite professionalism.

 He ran a hand over his face.

 "Rough day?"

 A woman's voice broke through the fog. Sultry, bold. She stood by his table, blonde, curvy, with confidence dripping off her like perfume. Tight black dress. Full red lips.

 He didn't even ask her name. Didn't need to.

 Just needed to forget.

 "You could say that," he said, voice low and smooth.

 She slid into the seat beside him without permission. Her thigh touched his, and he didn't move. Instead, he glanced at her, smirking slightly. "Looking for company?"

 "Depends," she said, leaning in, lips brushing his ear. "Can you play me hard enough to shut my brain off?"

 He clenched his jaw.

 Emily.

 He pushed the thought away and stood, tossing bills on the table. "Let's find out."

 ⸻

 His place. Lights off. The door barely shut before her back hit the wall.

 Her lips crushed against his, wild, messy, greedy. But as his hands found her waist, his mind screamed Emily. When the woman moaned, it wasn't her voice he heard. It was hers.

 The way her body fit against his perfectly.

 The way this never made him feel the way she did.

 He closed his eyes and exhaled through clenched teeth.

 ⸻

Stopped. He pulled out and stepped back, running a hand through his hair, his body spent but his chest, his head, still full of her.

 The woman reached for him, but he was already moving.

 "I'll call you a car," he muttered.

 "You're not doing anything?" she asked, confused.

 Dominic didn't answer.

 He walked into his bathroom, turned on the cold water, and stared at his reflection.

 One night. That's all it took to ruin him.

 And still... she was everywhere.

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