His Unexpected Baby by Jamie Knight

Chapter Nineteen - Skye

The drive back to my place was pretty quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but rather it was one born of an inability to find anything to say.

I figured that the silence was the quiet of a pet knowing her place, and her master with no orders at the moment. When we were together, outside of work at least, I spoke when spoken to, or to ask or give permission for a particular activity. It was put to my master whether we conversed or not. And I liked it like that.

Without a word, I got out of his car after it parked in front of my rental. Simon put a hand on my back to indicate that I should wait.

Not moving an inch once on the sidewalk, Simon joined me, taking my hand. Since we were from anyone who knew us, most of the other employees living on the island, we were free to be as affectionate and open as we wanted to be.

Leading me up the stairs, Simon reasserted his authority, once again remaining in completely control of my body and will. He could have done anything to me, and I would have accepted it. But what he opted to do both surprised and pleased me.

Taking me up to my room, he stopped in the middle of the floor, halfway between the bed and the closet. I wasn’t quite sure which one I wanted more, figuring out pretty quickly what he would do in the closet.

Opting for the closet option, followed closely by the dresser, my master chose an outfit for me, laying it out on the bed piece by piece. He had already dressed me in what I’d been wearing the night before and had done up my hair before we left his house.

With gentle and surprisingly expert hands, he had me back out of my clothes in no time. I felt no shame being naked in front of him. If anything, I was coming to enjoy it, which surprised me a little, since I had always been rather self-conscious.

It didn’t last, though. My master quickly dressed me again in the clothes of his choosing like I was his very own doll. He also let down and rebranded my hair in a style more fitting my new outfit. I didn’t know how he did it but somehow Simon had found clothes among the mess of my wardrobe that made me look better than anything I’d ever managed.

I looked great, while still able to be warm and I couldn’t help but smile.

Taking my hand once again, he brought me back out to his car, apparently wanting to drive me somewhere.

When we arrived at our previously unknown, at least to me, destination, the restaurant was small in a cozy way. It was the sort of place I’d heard about but had never really been to. Simon was just full of surprises.

He insisted on sitting on the other side of the table despite how much I wanted him near me. He was willing to compromise, however, and kept a hand on my knee under the able the entire time. The tables all had traditional white linen tablecloths so no one was any the wiser.

Again, things were pretty quiet. Simon held to a stoic pattern I didn’t dare disrupt, no matter how much the need to speak burned in me. Still, I was a good girl and kept quiet, waiting for may master to speak first.

“How is the manuscript going?” he asked, making me happy that he had asked that question.

“It’s done. I did the analysis and everything. I brought it to your office, but you weren’t there. I would have given it to you last night but, gosh, this is going to sound silly. I dind’t give it to you last night because you didn’t ask for it.”

“Fair enough,” he said, taking another sip of his black coffee, “as we were somewhat preoccupied, after all.”

I could feel it as the heat rose to my face, though in that case it wasn’t a blush of embarrassment. It was a blush of arousal and desire, as I remembered what my gentle master had done to me and thought about what else I wanted him to do.

“I have it if you want it.”

I flinched, ready if he was angry at me for speaking out of turn. Instead, he put a hand on mine, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb to let me know that everything was okay.

I counted myself lucky for having such a gentle and understanding master. He still had his rules and gave out punishments, but only when they were really needed.

“Sure, let’s see,” he said.

His gaze was so intense I had to look away. It felt like he might hypnotize me if I didn’t.

Not that he had to resort to such cheap tricks to get me to comply with his wishes. All he had to do was ask.

As quickly as possible, I got the document from my case and put it on the table between us. Keeping one of his hands on my knee, Simon flipped through my report with the other. His skills with both hands were rather impressive.

“Brilliant,” he mused aloud to himself.

My heart fluttered at his high praise, not only because of his role as my master but also because of his status as one the most successful editors in the business.

“I’d love to see you write fiction.”

“I do,” I blurted.

His eyes raised to me and I could almost feel my heart stop. Not because he looked angry, far from it. His gaze carried such luminescence as to scarcely seem human.

“Do you, now?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, averting my gaze down to the table.

“I’d like to read some.”

“I-it’s not done. That’s the problem. One of them, anyway. I have lots of ideas, but I can’t seem to get all the way through. Usually I get distracted on the way by another idea. I know I just need to sit down and finish something, but it’s harder than it sounds.”

“You don’t need to tell me about that, sweetheart,” Simon chuckled.

“You’ve had trouble too?”

“Of course. That part of why I write with a pen. On top of just liking them, it helps things go a lot smoother with drafting. There is always going to be more than one, so the trick is to get through the first draft done so you have something to work with. I like to think of writing as something similar to sculpting. Sourcing base material, in this case a rough manuscript, as opposed to rough rock, and removing the unneeded bits. That’s not even to say all the parts of a first draft are bad. Sometimes they are quite good, but if they don’t help the story in some way they need to go.”

“How do pens help with that goal?” I asked, a bit confused.

“No one is going to see the first draft. I remind myself of this by doing them in pen and paper. The real work of development will come after I transcribe it into a computer. By which point, it is already in its third incarnation. The first is from my head to the page. And the second is from the handwritten page to the computer. A process which invariably brings about changes.”

I soaked it all up like a sponge, trying to hold onto this bit of free advice. Simon was becoming not only my boss and my master but also my mentor, training me in love and sex as well as craft.

“Yes, Sir,” was all I could think to say.

“I’m going to give you an assignment. I want you to choose one of your stories and write it out long hand from start to finish. It doesn’t matter how you do it, but I want a draft.”

“Okay. How long do I have?”

“Until the end of the holidays.”

I suppressed a whimper, reminded that our time together might be limited. The temporary job contract only went until January 1. At which point I might well have to go home to Portland. Not my first choice by any stretch, but I might not have any choice.

Suddenly, just by thinking about this possibility, I was even more determined to get a permanent position at Pigeon, and it sounded like Simon’s assignment might help me with that.

The food came and our comfortable silence returned. It actually felt like a date, even if that did seem ass backwards. Usually, the kinky sex came after the first date, though I wasn’t about to object to the switched order of things.

If I could have both, I was very happy. The exact sequence of events didn’t matter one little bit.

***

The next day, Simon insisted on taking me to work. But he didn’t bring me up to the door when we got to the office. It would have been too risky. Instead, he parked a few blocks away. It was an area that was still accessible to the building but not so close that we risked being spotted.

“Here you go,” he said, handing me two nicely wrapped gifts.

“Two?” I asked.

“Yes. One for you, and one for your Secret Santa recipient. I didn’t think you would have time after last night.”

“Thank you,” I said, not sure what else to say.

He kissed me sweetly on the cheek and I got out. The plan was for me to wait awhile until he could go in first, getting there right on time. Then I would go in, as per the usual flow of things.

At the appointed time, I strode through the lobby and signed in at the desk. I was the third signature of the day after Inga and Simon. It looked like she did leave sometimes, after all. Or at least she ventured far enough out of the building and back to have to sign the book.

Placing the first gift on the desk of my co-worker, I hurried to my own cubicle, wondering what mine could be. It would be a while until I could find out. The note attached specifically instructed me not to open it until I got home.

He would meet me there.