His Rules: A Secret Pregnancy Office Romance (Dominant Bosses Book 1), page 1
His Rules
A Secret Pregnancy Office Romance (Dominant Bosses Book 1)
Ajme Williams
Copyright © 2021 by Ajme Williams
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers only.
All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.
Contents
Also by Ajme Williams
Description
Prologue
1. Ryker – One Year Later
2. Nina
3. Ryker
4. Nina
5. Ryker
6. Nina
7. Ryker
8. Nina
9. Ryker
10. Nina
11. Ryker
12. Nina
13. Ryker
14. Nina
15. Ryker
16. Nina
17. Ryker
18. Nina
19. Ryker
20. Nina
21. Ryker
22. Nina
23. Ryker
24. Nina
25. Ryker
26. Nina
27. Ryker
28. Nina
29. Ryker
30. Nina
31. Ryker
32. Nina
33. Ryker
34. Nina
35. Ryker
36. Nina
Epilogue
Wrong to Love You (Excerpt)
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Dominant Bosses (this series)
His Rules | His Desires | His Punishments | His Secret
Strong Brothers
Say Yes to Love | Giving In to Love | Wrong to Love You | Hate to Love You
Irresistible Billionaires
Admit You Miss Me | Admit You Love Me | Admit You Want Me | Admit You Need Me
Heart of Hope Series
Our Last Chance | An Irish Affair | So Wrong | Imperfect Love | Eight Long Years | Friends to Lovers | The One and Only | Best Friend’s Brother
Fake Marriage Series
Accidental Love | Accidental Baby | Accidental Affair | Accidental Meeting
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Description
A southern stranger for one night? Yes please.
Don’t have to see him in the morning? Even better.
But what if he showed up again? I could deal with that.
And if he showed up as my boss? Oh boy…
I think this is one big joke.
When I opened the door to his office and saw his face, I knew that my nightmare had come true.
The same stranger who had kissed my curves so adoringly was now looking at me like I was a mistake.
To be fair, I was looking at him the same way.
He was a mistake.
A delicious one.
A grumpy one.
This hot mistake came with consequences in the form of… rules.
Look, I am okay doing hot men, but I don’t do rules.
Not the ridiculous kind anyway.
My boss is determined to make me obey.
And I’m willing to let him try.
Even if the end result is a secret baby that would turn my world upside down…
Prologue
Nina
It's true what they say that time flies when you're having fun. Back home in Missouri, a week at my administrative assistant job was an eternity. But this week in San Diego, California, visiting my friend Jess, the week had flown by and tomorrow afternoon, I’d be on a plane heading home.
I sat at a table in the large ballroom of the hotel where Jess's new family was hosting a celebration. I didn't know all the details, but apparently there had been an attempted takeover of Jess's husband's family’s company, and they had cleverly subverted it, and now their business was expanding through the world. Tonight, the family, which included Jess and her husband, his three brothers and their wives, and their father, and their grandmother, who started the company, were having a party for all the employees, as well as some of their contractors and vendors. Since I was visiting Jess, I was invited to go along.
Growing up, me and Jess, and our other friend, Lizzie, used to dream about meeting our Prince charming's and living happily ever after. By the time we got into adulthood, we all knew that those were just stories. But as I watched Jess dance with her very handsome and rich husband, Carter, I knew that in her case, it was a reality. I was very happy for her, especially since I knew her story. I knew she'd found her Prince charming on a cruise, years ago, but they'd never exchanged their names, so when she'd come home from the trip pregnant, her life seemed far from a fairytale.
But Jess being the strong woman that she was, plus having two great friends in me and Lizzie, she had her child, Tanner, and ultimately made the decision to leave Missouri to move out West to forge a new life. Lizzie and I were sad to see her go and yet at the same time happy that she was pushing forward by making her own destiny.
A fairy godmother must've been watching down on her because it seemed to me that the odds that she would run into her baby's father were astronomically rare. But she did and they fell in love again. Today, she was happily married to her baby daddy and they were expecting another child soon. More than that, they looked blissfully happy, which made me happy even as I was envious. Jess might've gotten her fairytale come true, but I was certain in the knowledge that happily ever after was very rare indeed.
So rare that I knew not to expect one or even look for one. I was happy to live my life the way I was. Well mostly. I had no love life, and my job was a bore, so I wasn't living my best life. But I was financially secure, and I had good friends in Jess and Lizzie, so I wasn't going to complain.
"In the twenty-first century, if a woman wants to dance, she can go and ask a man herself."
I turned to look at the man who was taking a seat next to me. Wow. He was nearly as good-looking as Jess's husband and his three other brothers. I wondered if he was a cousin or something because he had their same thick blond hair, and icy blue eyes. He wore his suit very well, tight over broad shoulders. The woman in me was intrigued that such a handsome man would come to talk with me, but the feminist in me didn't want to be swayed by his sex appeal.
"As a twenty-first century woman, I am very secure in my ability to ask a man to dance but I'm also discriminating. In looking out over the sea of eligible men, I don't see anyone to ask."
He flashed a grin and he seemed amused by my banter. He scanned the room, then pointed to a fairly good-looking man who appeared to be staring at the breasts of the woman he was talking to. “Well, there's that guy except he's married." He turned to look at me. "Unless you go for married men."
I shook my head. "Men who cheat should be castrated."
He winced and shifted uncomfortably. "So not that guy. Well, there's Carlton Willoughby," he said pointing over to an elderly gentleman.
I frowned. "How old is he?"
"I don't think anyone really knows. But he is single and rich. That makes him very appealing to a lot of women wanting to settle down."
I looked at my uninvited guest with an arched brow. "You think I'm a gold digger?"
"I don't know.”
“I’m not. I’m not looking for a rich husband. Or a husband of any type. Or of a relationship. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
He nodded. “That just leaves one person left for you to dance with."
I knew where this was going, and while I had left all my fanciful ideas of love and romance behind, I couldn't deny that there wasn't something exciting about being picked up by a stranger. "Well, you must point him out to me."
He pressed his hand over his chest. "Me. I'm not married, and I'm not old. And while I have a few bucks, I'm not as rich as Willoughby. Plus, I'm not looking for a wife. It’s a perfect fit. So, are you going to ask me to dance?"
This game was interesting, but I found it hard to believe that in a room filled with beautiful women, who I was sure their beauty was botoxed and implanted, that he’d single me out. I wasn’t ugly, but I was no supermodel either.
"Were you put up to a dare or something? If I ask you to dance, are you going laugh in my face and say, ‘not with a woman like you.’"
The amusement in his face fell into a look of bafflement. "Why would I joke about something like that?"
I rolled my eyes and used my hand to gesture out to the sea of beautiful women in the room. "Because there are many more sexy women
"You’re overweight?” His eyes scanned my body, and I cursed my nipples for tightening at the heat in his gaze as he did. Finally, he looked in my face. “You don't strike me as a woman who is concerned about that kind of stuff."
“I'm not." At least not anymore, I wasn't. For many years I had struggled with my weight. Today, I was comfortable in my skin. I enjoyed dressing up and wearing makeup, but I wasn’t going to starve myself or run myself ragged just to have a pretty boy lust after me.
But I also knew that most men, particularly the Southern California sun-kissed man sitting next to me, went for skinny women.
"I've never had a thigh gap and I know that's what men like you like."
He stared at me blank faced. "I don't even know what a thigh gap is." He reached out and took my hand pulling me up. "But maybe you can tell me all about it while we dance."
Why the hell not, I thought. I would be going home tomorrow afternoon, so what would it hurt to let loose with a sexy man who, pretending or not, was willing to dance with me.
The band played Sinatra standards, apparently, at the request of the company's matriarch.
My sexy stranger pulled me into the standard dance pose where he had one hand on my lower back and his other was holding my hand up. He tugged me in a little bit closer than I might have to dance to him, but again I allowed it because how often was I going to be at a rich shindig with a handsome man?
His mouth was a whisper away from my ear. "Now tell me, what is a thigh gap."
"It's the space between a skinny woman's thighs," I said, trying to ignore his manly scent as it filled my nostrils and started to make me feel intoxicated.
"I see. Don’t all women have space between their thighs?”
Seriously? “When they’re standing regularly, they have space. Someone like me, doesn’t. My thighs touch.”
He thought for a moment. “And apparently this thigh gap is something that I'm supposed to be attracted to, right?"
I rolled my eyes, which effectively broke the spell he was starting to cast over me. "It's common knowledge that men prefer skin and bones model-like women."
"Was there some sort of poll or survey of men to determine this belief?"
I pulled back to look in his eyes because while I didn't mind banter and flirting, I didn't want to be the butt of a joke. I felt like he was yanking my chain. I was still waiting for him to signal his group of buddies and they’d all have a laugh at the mid-western woman who thought a rich southern Californian guy would be interested in her.
"Every fashion magazine and other media is a testament to that fact,” I said.
"Well, I would challenge that. Men are conditioned to be attracted to curves. They want to be able to have a firm grip on a woman when they thrust inside her." His hand slid down lower, his fingers rubbing just over the curve of my ass.
I wasn’t sure if it was that move or the way he all of a sudden began talking about sex that made me gasp.
"We want to be able to bury our faces in a woman’s tits." His hand then slid up and his thumb ever so lightly caressed under the swell of my breast. I was shocked at his brazenness, but not enough so to push him away. In fact, it was the opposite. All my girly bits flared to life. My nipples hardened and distended, and there was no doubt in my mind that he knew it.
Even so, I wasn't going to let myself be carried away by sexy talk from a sexy man. "So, you're telling me that you're much more attracted to my body, than say that woman over there." I nodded towards a very attractive blonde-haired woman dancing with another man a few feet away from us. She was a little too curvy for the point I was trying to make, but with the long blonde hair and the blue eyes, she definitely was more of the ideal woman than I was with average brown hair and eyes.
He looked over where I gestured and immediately shook his head. "Definitely not her." He said in a way like maybe he knew her. Before I could ask him, his hand was back just above my ass and pulling me closer against him. So close, I could feel the hard length of him pressed against my belly. "Now do you believe I’m attracted to you?"
This was definitely different than anything I'd ever experienced at home in Missouri. Not that men weren’t ever bold and brazen there, but to be picked up like this and within a few minutes, feeling a man's erection against my belly, that was different.
"Do you do this often?" I’d heard lots of stories about debauchery in Southern California, but I’d always thought they were more folklore than truth.
He let out a hearty laugh. "I'm not a virgin. If that's what you're asking."
I shook my head. "No, I mean do you go to parties, and within 10 minutes have a hard on while dancing with a woman you don’t know?"
He looked at me with amusement. "Actually, I really did just want to ask you to dance. Then you started talking about thigh gaps and well, being a man thinking about thighs and then dancing with you…there's just some things I don't have control over. My dick is one of them." He stepped back slightly, and we continued to dance.
"Maybe we could talk about something else. He hates that," he said.
"Who hates it?" I asked looking around. Was someone watching us?
"My dick hates it when I ignore him. Why don’t you tell me where you’re from?"
"I’m from the Midwest. I'm visiting a friend. What about you?”
"I'm from here. Are you enjoying your visit?" He settled into a smooth dance rhythm with enough space between us that I could almost think I imagined he’d had an erection.
"I am very much. Although I'm leaving soon." I looked up at him. "Is it working?"
"Are you asking me if my dick is erect?”
He looked at me with the same bafflement that I’m sure I had looking up at him. “Talking about statistics is a more foolproof option, but boring."
We danced for a few songs, and I had to admit, he was good at it. Not just the dancing but the conversation. It was strange and yet refreshing the way we settled into conversation like old friends or maybe lovers, even though we didn’t know each other. We stopped and went to the bar to get a drink, where I was sure he’d dump me off for a woman who understood how pickups were really supposed to work.
Instead, we talked more. We discussed a variety of topics although nothing too personally revealing. He knew my name was Nina and he told me his name was Ry. I also knew he worked for his father's company, but didn't know what that was.
We drank and danced, drank and danced, and pretty soon, it was almost as if it was just me and him at that grand party. When he asked if I wanted some fresh air, I agreed that I did, knowing that it was probably code for “let's get outta here and take this moment in time a little bit further.” I wasn’t a woman for one-time hookups, but still I went.
We exited the ballroom onto an outdoor terrace. "It's amazing to me how warm it is considering it's practically winter," I said.
"It's one of the perks about living in Southern California." He stood next to me with his hands in his pockets. I wondered if and how he’d make his move. Would he kiss me by surprise, or would he nonchalantly put his arm around me and work his way to a kiss? Or maybe I was reading more into this. Perhaps I shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.
"It's incredibly expensive. I don't know how anybody can afford it,” I said.
