by Amy Brent
Table of Contents
The Baby Contract
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
EXCLUSIVE: The Escort
Friends with Benefits
Knocked Up by Brother’s Best Friend
Star Struck
Pretend Daddy
My Best Friend’s Brother
Copyright © 2018 Amy Brent – All Rights Reserved
The Baby Contract
A Best Friend’s Brother Romance
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Chapter One
Ethan
The name of the swankys cocktail bar was lost on me as I admired the bartender who was pouring my glass of rye. She was a tanned blond goddess with gold jewelry winking on her wrists and at her throat. Her eyes were the palest blue I had ever seen, and they were framed in thick, dark lashes that gave her stare a seductive appeal. I really hadn’t needed another drink, but it had been an easy way to get her attention.
As she approached to hand me my glass, the girl on the barstool beside me nudged me with her elbow. I glanced over to see her blinking bashfully up at me. She was cute, that was for sure, with bright pink lips and short black hair, but she was aggravating as hell.
“What did you order?” the black-haired girl cooed in my ear.
“Rye,” I said shortly, hoping she took the hint that I wasn’t particularly interested. I only had eyes for the bartender who had given the girl by my side an evaluating up down when she handed me my drink.
“Rye?” the girl beside me asked. “Of all the things on the menu. I thought maybe you’d be more of a vodka kind of guy.”
“Did you?” I asked lazily, not even bothering to look over at her this time.
“Mhm, and I’m usually pretty good at guessing those kinds of things. I can tell a lot about a person just by looking at them. Like you, for example. Tall. Handsome. Well dressed. You must be in business. Or sales.” She paused, resting the tip of her forefinger on her chin. “Not real estate but cars perhaps?”
I smirked into my glass as I took a sip of rye. “Most definitely not sales.”
“Oh,” she said, rather disappointed. “I must be off my game tonight. How odd. Well, anyway, I’m Trish.” She beamed at me.
“Right. Nice to meet you, Trish.” I reached my arm across my body to shake her hand. This way, I didn’t have to turn to face her. She still didn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested.
“Nice to meet you, too, umm?”
“Ethan,” I conceded, unable to see a better way out of the situation.
“Ethan.” She smiled sweetly. “It suits you.”
“My mom thought so.” I sighed, tiring of the conversation.
Trish giggled like a school girl and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, you’re so funny,” she chided, waving her hand and grazing my shoulder.
I didn’t say anything.
“Well,” she said, overlooking my silence, “I have to run to the ladies room to freshen up. Don’t go anywhere, Ethan.” She gave me a wink and then turned on her heel to weave through the crowded bar toward the restrooms.
I groaned and threw back the rest of my drink. I stood up, eager to make a break for it before Trish reemerged ready for round two.
The blond bartender appeared in front of me. She had a playful smirk curling the corners of her lips upward, and her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, pushing them up in a most fascinating way.
“I don’t think Trish is your type,” she said, glancing at the restrooms.
“No?” I said, putting my glass down on the bar. “What is my type?”
The bartender shrugged. There was gold glitter on her cleavage. That was a nice touch. I tried to look at her eyes when she spoke to me.
“You need a woman, not a girl. Someone who knows what she can do with her own body. Someone who knows what she can do to yours.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you could point me in the right direction?”
The bartender laughed, showing me white teeth and dimples. “I could, but she still has fifteen minutes left in her shift, and I don’t know if you’re the kind of man who would be willing to wait.”
“I can wait,” I said. “I assume she doesn’t have plans after she’s done with work?”
“Only taking you home, I would imagine,” she smiled.
My cock pressed against the inside of my pants. I would most definitely wait. “I’ll catch you around back in twenty,” I told her. “I don’t want to be anywhere near here when Trish gets back.”
The bartender laughed as she turned back to her bar mat where some customers were waiting impatiently. She didn’t say a word to me. I liked that. She was confident. She was sexy. And she was going to have my dick in her in less than half an hour.
I felt a little out of place behind the bar. It was nearly one in the morning. There wasn’t a soul around. I waited with my back resting against the wall beside the emergency exit at the back of the bar. I glanced at my Zenith Christopher Columbus watch. She would be arriving any second. My erection was still holding on, and I was desperate for a release. Twenty minutes of anticipation was a lot longer than I usually had to wait.
The door opened. I pushed off the wall and turned to face the blond bartender who was searching the back parking lot for me. When she spotted me, she put her hands on her hips. “All right, hot shot, my car is the red one. Your place or mine?”
I didn’t do places. Not if I could avoid it. I approached her and scanned the area to make sure we were alone. I put my hand in the middle of her back and guided her to her car. It was a sedan of some sort. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a Honda. It would do.
I spun her around when we arrived at the rear of the car. She laughed in surprise, and I pulled her to me with my hand still resting on her lower back. I lowered my touch until her ass was beneath my palm. Then I squeezed. She was firm and full and everything I had hoped she would be. She giggled breathlessly against me as I leaned in and kissed her.
She seemed a little surprised by my forwardness. At first, she was stone-still in my arms, but then she relaxed and melted against me. Her hands began wandering over my shoulders and down the open collar of my jacket. She slid her hands inside, running them up my ribs and over my chest. Her fingers grabbed hold of my shirt, and she tugged sharply upward, untucking it from my pants.
Her tongue explored my mouth, and she tasted like cherries. She was a siren with floral smelling perfume and the softest skin. Her hands went up until she was holding the back of my neck and burying her fists in my hair.
I needed her. Now.
I pushed her
back a step so that she was pinned between me and the trunk of her car. Then, I wrapped my hands under her ass and lifted her up to place her on the trunk. She wrapped her legs around my hips instinctively.
She was wearing a short, black leather skirt and a black tank top. We stopped kissing for a moment so I could undo my pants. While I looked around to make sure no one was around, I pulled myself free, grabbed a condom from my back pocket, tore it open, and rolled it on. She raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip.
“Fuck,” she breathed. I could hear the excitement in the tremble of her voice. She followed suit by inching her skirt up her thighs. She wasn’t wearing panties. I liked that.
She spread her thighs for me. Her pussy was beckoning me forward. I obliged, grabbing my cock in one hand and pressing my tip against her slit. I rubbed gently up and down until I was coated in her juices. Then I put my hands on either side of her on the trunk of the car and eased my cock inside her.
She hung her head back and let out a breathless little moan that made me want to ravage her. Her eyes fell closed, and I admired the lines of her throat and the pulse in the side of her neck.
Her pussy was soft and silky. She was wet as hell. She had probably been eagerly awaiting this moment as much as I had. I lifted the hem of my shirt so I could see her better. She was swollen and bright pink, just how I liked it.
I took my time warming her up by sliding in and out of her in the same, consistent rhythm. Somehow, she became even wetter.
“Fuck me harder,” she begged, lifting her ass off the trunk and bracing herself with her hands behind her back.
I was able to get even deeper into her soft pussy like this. Her face was still tilted up to the sky. Her breaths were more ragged now. I wanted to see more of her.
I reached out and tugged the neckline of her tank top down. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts spilled out, and her nipples pointed straight up. I squeezed her tits as I fucked her harder. I was going to blow. I wanted to make sure I made it worth it for her. She was a beautiful woman, and she deserved the pleasure she was about to give me.
I brought my thumb to her swollen little clit and pressed down. I began rubbing her in slow circles. She let out a trembling cry as I buried my cock even deeper inside her. Then she came. She grew suddenly tighter around my dick, and then her pussy filled with a warm wetness that wasn’t mine.
It was nearly impossible for me not to blow my load in her.
I resisted and pulled out. I pulled her off the car, turned her around, and forced her to bend over so her cheek was pressed against the trunk. I imagined it was a little cold and probably a little grimy, but in the heat of the moment, neither one of us cared. I grabbed both of her arms and held her wrists behind her back. Then, I entered her from behind.
Her moans were wilder now. I knew I had found a spot she liked, which was a good thing, too, because the way my cock was gliding in and out of her like this was almost more than I could bear. Her ass was firm, and her back was arched. She was straining against the pressure I was applying to her wrists, but she wasn’t complaining. I was using enough force to keep her pinned down but not enough to cause her to panic.
She was watching me out of the corner of her eye. My jaw was clenched, and my grip on her wrists tightened. She whispered a soft little sound that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Holy hell, was she ever sexy.
“Come on,” she begged, “show me what you can do to my little pussy.”
Her words were like poison dripping from her lips. It was impossible for me to control myself. I bucked against her, my thighs and balls slapping against her bare flesh.
She pressed her forehead to the trunk of the car. I couldn’t see her face, but I suspected her eyes were closed. I fucked her harder, thrusting upward desperately. She whimpered and the sound escalated to a high-pitched shriek of pleasure as she came.
I blew my load and gently slid in and out of her until I suspected she wouldn’t be able to stay on her feet. Her right leg was quivering madly. I pulled out of her, released her wrists, and tucked myself back into my pants.
She straightened slowly and then turned back to me. She leaned up against her car for support. “That was … more than I expected,” she said, almost as if she wasn’t sure what words to choose.
“It was good,” I nodded, stealing a glance at her long legs and the lines in her calves. She still had her skirt hiked up to her waist. Her nakedness didn’t seem to bother her.
“You can come around any time you want to,” she told me with heavy eyelids, “and we can do this, or any variation of this, you prefer.”
“I like a woman who’s not afraid to say what she wants.”
“And I like a man who knows how to use his cock,” she winked, finally tugging her skirt down. “I’m Kennedy, by the way. But you can call me Keddy.”
“Ethan,” I said. “See you around?”
“I sure fucking hope so.” Keddy grinned before rolling away from me and wobbling to her driver’s side door. I stood back and watched her get in, start the engine, and reverse out of her stall. When she was pulling away, she rolled down her window. “Better get a move on, Ethan, Trish is a regular. She strolls out of the place around this hour like clockwork.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” I said before waving goodbye.
As she peeled out of the parking lot, I made my way to my own car. It was parked at the opposite end of the parking lot. I never liked to park my Maserati next to other vehicles in the parking lot. It had been keyed more than once. The money for the repairs was nothing to me, but the inconvenience of it all irked me.
As I walked to my car, I sent a silent thank you to Keddy. Her willingness to fuck in the middle of a trashy, poorly-lit parking lot had saved me the effort of having to either excuse myself from her place at two in the morning or ask her to leave mine.
It was never a pleasant conversation in my experience.
Chapter Two
Devon
The financial aid’s words were ringing around in my brain like a fire alarm. “If you can’t pay for half of the semester by the final deadline in two weeks, you will not be studying this term.” Half of my semester’s tuition was sixteen thousand dollars. I hadn’t seen that kind of cash in any span of time shorter than six months. My receptionist job did not pay nearly enough for me to be paying for my own school.
I sighed and tried to meet the eye of the financial advisor sitting across from me at her cubicle. “There are no other resources I can use to try to cover some of the cost?” I asked, hearing the desperation dripping from my mouth. “I just really can’t be set back a semester, and I’ll be able to pay it all back. Putting the money down up front is just a lot, and—”
“Darling,” the advisor said, taking off her red-framed cat eye glasses and placing them on the desk between us, “I wish I didn’t have to tell you no. I know how hard it is. But at this point, there is nothing more the school can do for you. Now, our time is up, and I must meet with my next appointment. Good luck, Devon. Truly.” She gave me a tight-lipped smile, plucked her glasses up, and slid them back on her nose. Then, she attempted to look busy by straightening out the items on her desk, stapler, pen holder, nameplate, picture frame with an image of her on a cruise with someone I assumed was her husband wearing khaki pants, white running shoes, and a blue-striped polo shirt.
I stood up and gathered my book bag, purse, and denim jacket. “Thank you for your time,” I managed to say, even though I wasn’t thankful at all. I was doomed.
I left the financial aid department and made my way through the maze of hallways on the first level of New York University. I emerged in the foyer a few minutes later. The sunshine streaming in through the upper windows did nothing to brighten my mood. My dream of earning my Master’s of Business was seeming more and more unattainable.
Sixteen thousand dollars in two weeks. I couldn’t make two thousand dollars in two weeks with my current semester schedule and the hours I was working at the
office. Not to mention, I had other priorities like rent, transportation, food, etc. I’d known New York wasn’t cheap, but up until now, there had been a big part of me that believed I could make it work. No matter what happened, I would find a way to graduate from New York University. After that, the world would be my oyster.
Now, the world felt too big, too daunting, and too cruel.
I cut across campus and up West Fourth, past the student housing and my own building. I kept my head down, determinedly not making eye contact with anyone on the busy sidewalks for fear of them knowing how much of a failure I was. I had one destination in mind as I walked my route without paying much mind to it. I had walked it so many times over the last few years.
I needed to see Heather. She was the only one who would be able to talk me out of calling it quits for real this time. I was scared that even she might not be able to see a light at the end of the tunnel this time.
Heather lived in a three-story, supremely skinny townhouse about a twenty-five-minute walk from NYU. I hurried up the concrete steps to her front door, praying she was home, and knocked anxiously. As I waited, I crammed my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill in the air. It was only five in the evening, but fall had arrived in New York and had brought with it a dry coldness that had already made most of the leaves on the trees dry up and turn yellow, red, and gold.
The door opened. Heather stood smiling at me, her dyed crimson hair pulled back in a sleek bun on top of her head. Her smile fell when the cold air hit her. “Holy smokes,” she muttered, stepping aside for me to come in. “You’ll freeze your nipples off out there. Get in here.”