Chapter 53
Gabriella
“Are you ready for this?” I asked, carrying a large cardboard file box into the open door of Chandler’s office.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said worriedly, standing up from his desk and rushing toward me. “You should not be lifting heavy objects. Are you crazy?”
“I’m twenty-four weeks pregnant, not paralyzed,” I said with a roll of my eyes, though his concern was endearing.
“Well, let me at least help you,” he said, grabbing the box from me and walking it into his office. He set it on the floor by his desk and turned to look at me with his hands on his hips, clearly displeased. It hadn’t even been that heavy.
“You are being a little overprotective, don’t ya think?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips in a standoff.
“You’re carrying precious cargo in there.” He pointed to my growing stomach that had now become something I couldn’t hide with flowy tops or skirts. I didn’t want to anymore, anyway. I was proud to be pregnant. Plus, I had found some really cute maternity workwear online.
“She’s kicking,” I said with a smile as I felt her foot or her elbow roll across my insides. I could never tell what was what.
“Really?” asked Chandler, totally forgetting his annoyance and rushing over. I placed his hand on my stomach and watched his face, as we waited for her to kick again.
“There!” I said suddenly. “Did you feel that?”
He nodded, awe in his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he had felt her kick, but every time was like Christmas Day for him. It was the strangest, most magical sensation for me, but I assumed it would only get uncomfortable as time went on and she began to outgrow her living quarters.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over that,” said Chandler, his green eyes dancing as he moved his hand across my stomach, eager to feel her again. We stood like that for a few more minutes, waiting for another kick or jab, but it never came. She had gone back to sleep, her favorite thing to do.
“Looks like it’s time to work,” I said, nodding toward the file box I had carried over.
When Chandler had told me he wanted to get to know the employees on a personal level, I was surprised.
He had never cared to before, always being brash in his interactions with everyone here.
It was off-putting and no one seemed to care for him.
I didn’t blame them. But everyone had put on fake smiles anyway because… what could they do? He was their boss.
“Right,” said Chandler with a nod, plopping down next to the cardboard box and prying the lid free. He started taking out each file and spreading them across the floor. It felt just like the night of our employee review all those months ago.
“I’m having déjà vu,” I said, taking a seat next to him and kicking off my heels.
“Should we order Chinese food and talk about our past traumas again?” he asked with a smirk.
I laughed out loud as I helped him unpack more files.
“Only if we end up naked after,” I said with a raise of my brows.
“That could definitely be arranged,” he said, leaning in and kissing me softly on the lips.
“Back at home, mister,” I said sharply.
As fun as it had been sneaking around and having sex in his office, it had been risky and careless.
Now that we were in charge of the company, I wanted to be professional.
I wanted to be taken seriously. This was all I wanted, and I wasn’t about to screw it up just because my hormones were out of control.
And boy, were they. It felt like I could not get enough of Chandler lately.
Every day when we got home from work, we hardly made it to the bedroom before he was buried deep inside me, making me scream.
By dinnertime, we were both famished and were ordering takeout from bed, still naked in the sheets. It had been the best weeks of my life.
But he looked damn sexy in my favorite suit today… I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold out for seven more hours.
“Where do we start?” asked Chandler, looking at the files sprawled around us.
“Alphabetically?” I offered.
“Seems the easiest way to do it.” He nodded.
“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” I asked, picking up the file with the last name of Anderson.
“Well, one, because an employee was stealing millions of dollars for years and years, so I would like to make sure that’s not happening or will happen again.”
“Valid point.”
“And two, I want to get to know my employees. I think it’s important. I’ve seen how you interact with everyone and how much they respect you. I want that, too. I should care about the people who spend their time here and dedicate so much of their time.”
“Another valid point.” I smiled, thinking just how different Chandler was from when he started. He really did care about Harold Enterprises, and all of the people who were a part of it. I loved him for it.
“I made a picture chart to help you out,” I said, pulling out a packet of papers I had made up and printed out.
“You’re kidding,” he said, narrowing his gaze.
“Nope.” I grinned.
“I don’t need that.” He waved me off.
“Really?” I asked, holding up a page and covering up the name of one of our employees that was printed out next to the picture. “Then who is this?”
He looked at me, confidence faltering momentarily before he cleared his throat and began studying the picture like it was no big deal.
“That’s… that’s Chad,” he said, lifting his chin pridefully.
“No one by the name of Chad works here,” I said with a giggle. He had been so certain. I almost wanted him to be right for his sake, but it felt even better for me to be right.
“Fine.” He sighed, waggling his fingers. I handed him the paper and watched him study it.
“And you know all their names?” he asked, wide-eyed as he went through each page of the packet.
“Mhmm. And by the end of the day, you will, too.”
He groaned, laying the packet in his lap so he could rub his temples.
“Just think of me as your teacher,” I said suggestively. I knew how to motivate him.
“I could be okay with that,” he replied, his eyes excited by the prospect of this little act of roleplaying.
I crawled to the door and closed it gently.
I supposed, just because we were CEOs didn’t mean we couldn’t have a little fun.
Plus, it was for the good of the company.
Chandler watched me, his brows raised as he looked at me with curious anticipation.
I crawled back toward him and set the paper packet aside before climbing onto his lap.
I hiked my skirt up, straddling him. I positioned myself just so, so I could feel him start to strain against the fabric of his pants.
I felt a wave of heat flow through me. Maybe this had been a bad idea.
“How about this? For every one you get right, you get a kiss,” I suggested.
“Where?” he asked, his eyes darkening.
“On your mouth!” I pushed him gently, though I was sure a kiss elsewhere would have him an expert on the employees in five minutes or less.
He chuckled and picked up the packet, studying it intently. “You’re on,” he said.
We spent the next two hours simply going through names and faces of all the employees, including security and the janitorial staff.
Everyone mattered. Everyone kept this train moving.
And everyone deserved respect. That was how I had always viewed the company and why it had made it to where it was today.
I stayed on Chandler’s lap where I could keep him focused—and distracted—on the task at hand.
At first, he failed miserably. If I was a teacher, he would get a D.
But when I threw in a little more incentive, like a little grind against his cock as I kissed him, or a sensuous swipe of my tongue against his, he was all the more focused.
And I was all the more turned on. By the end of the two hours, he knew every name and face of Harold Enterprises. And I was wet. So wet.
“We should take a long lunch,” I suggested, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stifle the desire running through me.
“Really?” He looked taken aback.
“I think I might self-destruct if we don’t,” I whispered against his lips, squirming at the feel of his hard cock against me. I pulled back, looking at him pleadingly.
“We could do that,” he said. “But I don’t think I can wait until we get home.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against my neck, making me shudder.
“Not here,” I said in a whispered moan.
“My driver is downstairs today…” he suggested, just before his tongue ran up my neck.
“Call him,” I commanded, pulling myself from his lap and tugging him up off the floor.
Chandler laughed out loud and stood up. He made the call and I dragged him out of the office as he nervously tried to hide his erection.
It wasn’t long until we tumbled into the back seat of his town car, with my skirt hiked up and him pounding into me with his large cock.
His driver drove us around the block several times, with the privacy guard up between the front seat and the backseat.
Poor guy. I doubted it did much to stifle my screams.
We spent the next few weeks taking our “lunch breaks” in his town car.
It was still pretty reckless as CEOs of one of the biggest companies on the East Coast, but I couldn’t help it.
At least, it wasn’t in his office. That was what I kept telling myself when we would walk back up to the office, after we made sure we didn’t look and smell of sex.
The hold Chandler had on me. My body. Heart.
Mind. It was indescribable. I loved him so much.
There were just some things I couldn’t help.
Our study session seemed to pay off because the employees were feeling more comfortable in coming to Chandler with questions or even just saying “hello.” He talked to them as equals, not just talking about business, but getting personal, too.
He would ask one about their kids and another about their apartment hunt.
I looked on proudly, glad that everyone was seeing the man I loved.
I could tell they felt seen and heard. He had really stepped into the role of CEO and I was so proud of him for it.
Although, he hadn’t been too happy to hear that some employees were referring to us as “mom” and “dad.” They were our junior associates.
Young and having fun. I didn’t think anything of it, but when Chandler found out, he was grumpy, stating that maybe everyone had gotten too comfortable. I actually thought it was pretty cute.
“They’re just having fun,” I said, waving him off as he sulked in his office chair.
“Hmmph,” he said.
“Besides, you’re going to have to get used to it. Our little girl will be calling you ‘dad’ soon enough.” I smiled at the thought.
This seemed to soften him a little. His shoulders relaxed.
“You’re right, but none of these twenty-something year-olds had better call me ‘daddy,’” he muttered.
I couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, thinking about how some of the younger female employees, and even a few of the male ones, would probably love to call Chandler “daddy.”