The Baby Contract
Riley Rollins
Copyright © 2017 by Riley Rollins
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, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental.
Contents
Author’s Note
Riley’s Dirty List & Free Book!
The Baby Contract
1. Jack
2. Libby
3. Jack
4. Libby
5. Jack
6. Libby
7. Jack
8. Libby
9. Jack
10. Libby
11. Jack
12. Libby
13. Jack
14. Libby
15. Jack
16. Libby
17. Jack
18. Libby
19. Jack
20. Libby
21. Jack
22. Libby
23. Jack
24. Libby
25. Jack
26. Libby
27. Jack
28. Libby
29. Jack
30. Libby
31. Jack
32. Libby
33. Jack
34. Libby
35. Jack
36. Libby
37. Jack
38. Libby
39. Jack
40. Libby
41. Jack
42. Libby
43. Jack
44. Libby
45. Jack
46. Libby
47. Jack
48. Libby
49. Epilogue, Pt. 1 - Jack
50. Epilogue, Pt. 2 - Liberty
Leashing the Virgin
1. Grace, aka Eden
2. Gabriel, aka Kaine
3. Eden
4. Grace
5. Kaine
6. Grace
7. Grace
8. Kaine
9. Grace
10. Grace
11. Kaine
12. Grace
13. Kaine
14. Grace
15. Kaine
16. Grace
17. Kaine
18. Grace
19. Grace
20. Kaine
21. Grace
22. Grace
23. Kaine
24. Grace
25. Kaine
26. Grace
27. Kaine
28. Grace
29. Kaine
30. Kaine
31. Grace
32. Grace
Epilogue
Thank You
Also by Riley Rollins
The Baby Contract is a full-length novel. You can expect it to end around 57% on your Kindle.
After The Baby Contract I’ve included a bonus book, Leashing the Virgin. It’s my way of saying “thank you for reading!”
Enjoy!
-Riley
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The Baby Contract
Marriage and promises and white picket fences…?
Mistakes I’ll never make again. I’m over that fantasy.
So is Libby, and that’s why she’s the perfect surrogate for my baby.
She gets paid, and I get an heir to the Mason family name.
No fuss, no muss. Easy, right?
I need a woman who’ll let me impregnate her for pay. Libby’s got zero interest in babies or a husband. She needs money, not complications.
But when artificial insemination fails, there’s only one thing left to try.
F*ck the fertility clinic, and f*ck the doctors. I’ll knock Libby up the old-fashioned way.
My lawyers create a contract. Legal, straightforward… Shatterproof. After she gives birth, she’s gone for good.
But once Libby’s got my baby in her belly, simple gets complicated.
Ripe and luscious, with fertile curves that beg me to plant my seed, damned right I’m going to spread Libby’s thighs and put my rock hard plow to work… Over and over again.
Nine months? I’ve got to have more.
Her body is my responsibility, my possession, my addiction.
F*ck the agreement… This is gonna get dirty.
1
Jack
I stare out into the steel grey sky of the city, through the crystalline wall of glass that separates me from the clouds… and the sixty floor drop to the concrete below. My office is on the top of the tallest structure in Asheville. Mason Steel Corporation. From here, I can look out over this city like a king. Or a tyrant.
I'm Mason, The Jack Mason. So I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. It was pure grit and determination that saved this company from ruin. What allowed my parents to keep the family manse in Biltmore. Decades of overly conservative business moves and dwindling capital had almost brought Mason Steel to her knees. Then I took over. And it wasn't our old-money name, or even my Ivy League education that had been responsible for bringing her back over the last fifteen long years. That had been me, my sheer force of will. Along with seventeen-hour work days and a thousand sleepless nights.
Lights flicker at a distance from the surrounding buildings and a few shine up from the streets below. The clouds shift thick and thin as the cold evening breeze shapes them. A thin mist of rain collects in tiny rivulets and runs down the enormous windows. It reminds me of the past. The painful past… and I work hard to push it down a little deeper.
I'm not a man who knows how to fail. Not ever. From the outside, it looks like I have everything I could possibly want. Fuck, I pretty much do. All except for the one thing I've wanted my whole life, the one thing that matters more than anything. And no amount of money or success can make up for that kind of emptiness. It's my one real need. My one true weakness. The only thing all my fucking ambition and determination ever failed to force into reality.
I stare into the endless grey night and it all comes flooding back…
"Goddamn it, Jack," she screamed, "did you ever think for One. Fucking. Minute… that it just might be your fault?"
Elaine was angrier than I'd ever seen her, and had more than a few drinks on board. It was a pattern that had been repeating itself for far too many months now. I ran my hand through my hair, forcing myself into a calmness I couldn't feel. I knew the last two years had been fucking hard for both of us.
"Lainey, honey," I reached out to touch her hair and she turned away, a curtain of sleek bottle blonde falling between us. "This was never about fault. Lots of couples have trouble conceiving. What matters is that we're both committed to this… that we both want to have this family." I took a step closer and ran my hand down her back. The tension in her body made the bones just under her skin feel sharp, angular. "I don't care if our baby comes from my body… or from yours… That's the only reason I brought up the idea of a surrogate."
I reached down to take her hand. Well-manicured nails bit into my palm, her fingers cold in mine. "This isn't about fault, or about giving up on our dream, Lainey. It's about making you a mom. And making me a dad." I swallowed hard, feeling a painful squeeze in my chest. "It's about becoming a family together, however that can happen for us."
/> "We tried for two goddamn years, Jack. If it had been meant to happen it would have." Her voice was oddly calm as she turned to face me. "And you were never even home. It was always work with you, wasn't it? Always the fucking business and your goddamn family honor." She stepped toward the desk by the windows and sat down behind it. "Well, congratulations," she said, looking me squarely in the face. "You saved your family business. Mason is everything it ever was, and more. You're positively filthy rich again, and now I get what I really wanted all these years…"
"Exactly, honey," I began. "The long hours are over for me now. Mason's stable and performing consistently, and there's nothing that Blake and Bennett can't handle." Two of my three brothers had been in with me neck deep for the long haul and knew almost as much about running the company as I did. "I can work three, four days a week tops now. We can go on that cruise you've been wanting. We'll make things right between us again." I looked into her eyes, made startlingly blue by her contacts. "We're secure now, baby. There couldn't be a better time to focus all our efforts on a family of our own."
Elaine dipped her head, her hair shielding her face as she fiddled with the locked drawer and pulled out a thick cream-colored envelope. She straightened and looked up to meet my eyes. Her jaw was crisp, her chin as sharp as her gaze. She pushed the envelope toward me with the tips of her perfect nails. The edge of her lip turned upwards, but she wasn't smiling.
"As usual," she said softly, "You weren't listening to me." She blinked and leaned back in the chair. "I said, it's time for me to get what I wanted." She looked at the envelope and then pointedly back at me. I took a step forward and picked it up, sliding my thumb under the flap. "I stuck it out, Jack. All those years with you working day and night. Recreating the fucking family empire."
I pulled out a thick sheaf of papers and unfolded them. The paper was smooth, expensive. Her voice seemed far away suddenly, as my eyes scanned the embossed heading, the formal words on the page.
"You did what you had to do, Jack. Just like I did," her voice said distantly. "You got your dream come true, and now it's my turn. In so many ways, we're really two of a kind…"
Jackson Fletcher Mason, Respondent
Petition for Dissolution of Marriage
The words jumped out at me from the page and swam as I struggled to focus, to understand. Her words were cool in the background…
"You wanted to save the family jewels, Jack. And you've done it, against all odds." She shifted in her chair like a cat settling in. "But that was your dream, not mine. Mine was to be the wife of a fucking wealthy man. And now I am."
I looked up at her cool smoothness and held up the papers in my fist. "Yes," she answered the question burning in my eyes. "I stayed long enough to make sure you'd be rich enough to make both of us happy. And now that you are, I want what's coming to me." She smoothed sleek hair behind her diamond earring. "I've changed my mind about the whole mommy scene." Her hand dropped to her perfectly flat tummy. "Now I just want out. And I want what I earned by staying this long."
The rain outside has started to slow. That night had been fourteen long months ago. I had moved out of the house we'd shared the following day. It might as well have been a lifetime ago.
I sat down at my desk and smoothed the papers in front of me. The creases had softened with time and handling, but the ink was still crisp. The words still sharp. Divorce. For the first time in a dozen generations at least, a divorce in the Mason family.
It wasn't that I wanted her back. Whatever we had shared was long, long over. Even though I'd tried to make it work, deep down I'd known the marriage had been a mistake from the start. Elaine and I had come from a similar background, a similar lifestyle and at first I'd thought that would be enough for us to build a life on. But the clashes had started soon after the wedding and had never really stopped. She'd turned to alcohol and shopping binges, I'd turned to work and burying myself in the seemingly insurmountable task of saving a failing business. The worse things had gotten at home, the more driven… and successful I'd become in the boardroom. It was all for the family who depended on me, I'd told myself. And for the family of my own that I'd wanted my whole life. Growing up with a sister and three brothers, I'd always imagined being a dad. I couldn't imagine any other kind of life. And right when I'd thought I was on the verge of seeing it all come true…
I picked up a pen and held my hand, poised over the blank, waiting signature line.
I'd known things weren't perfect between Elaine and me. But she'd always said she wanted kids as much as I did. Maybe we'd both thought it could help fix whatever had gone wrong between us. Or maybe we both wanted the right things, but with the wrong person. In any case, she'd made her desires painfully clear, and her financial demands even clearer. She wanted an extra four million a year just as compensation for the children she claimed I had failed to give her…
I shook my head, deep in thought. In the last year I'd realized that, deep down, I didn't miss her. I wondered now, if I'd ever even loved her. It was the shock mostly, of thinking we'd been on the same page all along, only to find out in a single moment just how wrong I'd really been. That one partner's sole decision could so painfully destroy the other's dreams… I clicked the back of the pen and the point appeared.
Even so, we'd spent too many of our youthful years together for me to hold onto the anger anymore. The ache I carried inside me wasn't about her or the divorce. It was an empty hole in my heart that still longed for the babies we would never have. I scratched out my full name and sealed the envelope. Turning my chair, I stared out into the deepening night.
Somewhere before the darkness started shifting back toward daylight, I had made the decision. I go after business deals. It's what I do. It's what I know how to do. And it's never failed yet, to give me what I want.
Fuck whether I had to do this alone. The fact was, it had to be done. I was going to be a father and there was nothing, no one, that could stop me this time. I might be all through with relationships and the drama that goes with them, but there's more than one way to make a baby…
I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out the contract my lawyers had finished only yesterday. My sister, India, had already told me everything I needed to know about the girl, and I'd done a full background check as well. She seemed perfect. There were only a few more formal steps left…
It was early, too early really, but I pounded out the numbers on my phone anyway. Seven rings later, India picked up, her voice raspy.
"Whaaat?" she demanded irritably, knowing full well it was me.
"Yes," I said firmly, in answer to the idea she'd put to me weeks ago. "Yes on the surrogacy. And I'm not waiting any fucking longer.
Call her and set up the meeting… Bring her to the lake house.
Today."
2
Libby
Imaginary Mom would say, get your head examined. Or at least I think she would. How the hell would I know, really? Imaginary Mom is, well… imaginary. And Real Mom gave me up when I was four months old. Sometimes I think I can still remember her. A smell, or a color. But the second I try to catch ahold of it, the feeling's gone. All she honestly gave me was her genes, my name and the gold locket around my neck. Now I'm on my own. Like I've always been. Just like I plan to always be.
I've shoved the last of pitifully few boxes into my rusty old Beetle. Books, clothes, shampoo. Today is moving day. Again.
But I'm nothing if not resilient. You have to be, with a life like mine. I looked up one last time and watched the pink curtains fluttering in my bedroom window. Well, what had been my window. The lease ran out about the same time my money did, and I'm not one to overstay my welcome. Today's the thirty-first and I'm leaving the apartment cleaner than I found it. It's not so much the living space I hate to leave. It's that I'm losing my work space too. My first real studio… the place I found the gift of my own two hands. My passion. My value in this world.
Next to me on the seat were the bo
xes that matter the most. The ones holding my sculptures. Little clay figures that I put my whole soul into, tiny beings that carry the imprints of my fingers and hour upon hour of my entire creative purpose. Maybe I'm not as alone as I think, I pondered as I pulled the plastic sheeting up and tucked it carefully around a tiny, exposed limb.
My friend India, said I could crash at her place for as long as I need. God knows, she's got the space. I could stay in her condo for the better part of a month without even running into her. She's an artist, like me, so I knew right off her money came from somewhere other than her sales. Neither one of us has had many of those lately, even though we both have pieces in one of the better galleries in town.
The Baby Contract Page 1