When I left for my date with Daniel, I smelled like nice perfume and anticipation. Now, I smell like sex and the ocean, mixed with a little white wine.
“Here,” Daniel says as he watches me try and smear my mascara into a slightly more refined smudge. “Let me.”
He turns my face to him and I’m able to just enjoy the look of him as he fixes my makeup with a handkerchief from his pocket, and, failing that, the pad of his thumb. I didn’t even know men still carried handkerchiefs—but I guess I don’t know that many billionaires, truth be told.
Up close like this, when he’s not smirking, or covering me with kisses, or trying to fuck me, I can finally appreciate how fucking handsome Daniel really is.
He has a long, straight nose that makes his face look masculine and refined, a chiseled jawline, and the dreamiest eyes.
It’s the face of a man who I would, all things considered, be totally okay with mixing my genes up with. And considering how tonight went…I’d say doing exactly that is right on schedule.
God, he can’t even fix my makeup without me thinking about getting pregnant with his child. If I wasn’t already flushed from all the fucking, I’d have the decency to blush.
“There,” he says, smearing the last bit of errant lipstick away from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Picture perfect.”
I do a quick check in the mirror again and realize that he’s right.
I mean, I still look pretty well-fucked, but at least I don’t look like I’m doing a bad impromptu audition for the role of Harley Quinn.
“I had…a really good night,” I say, and my voice is even doing that embarrassing breathy thing as I say it. Probably because Daniel’s thumb is lingering at the corner of my mouth—and as I speak, he runs it back over my lower lip.
He doesn’t answer me—he just goes in for another kiss. We’ve kissed enough times tonight, I’m beginning to learn his moves.
Our lips slide against each other’s in a coordinated sort of harmony, and when he presses his tongue into my mouth, our tongues tango like they were made to be partners.
“Get some sleep,” Daniel purrs protectively against my lips. “You’ll need it.”
“You too, tiger,” I tease. “Text me in the morning?”
“Rose, if I wasn’t afraid of smothering you, I’d text you later tonight.”
Something about that sits perfectly with me, and I end up grinning like an idiot. Being smothered by Daniel doesn’t honestly sound half bad.
He opens the passenger side door for me and kisses me again before he drives off. I wait in the driveway until his car is out of sight. As soon as I get inside the house, the interrogation starts.
“What does he taste like?” Jenna asks, greeting me with a knowing smile. “Is it pussy? Oh my god, I bet he tastes like pussy.”
I laugh uncomfortably, and not just because, well…she’s kind of right.
“He tasted good,” I say, and I leave it like that. I’m a bad liar, and it’s the truth in every way—from his lips to his cock to his cum.
But Jenna doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay, spill,” Jenna says. “You have to tell me everything.”
“We, uh…” I say, obviously stalling. “We went to the beach?”
That’s when Jenna does something that really freaks me out: she leans in, dips her nose to my neck…and she sniffs me.
“Oh my god,” she moans, pulling away. “You two fucked. Holy shit. I can smell it on you, girl!”
“Smell what?” I say, being, like, the most obvious ever.
Jenna gives me a look that verifies: she doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Yes or no, Rose,” Jenna says with a knowing smile. “It’s okay, you can tell me—I already know the answer.”
“I’ve, uh…I’ve still gotta process it for myself, honestly,” I say with a tired laugh. “Let me sleep on it—I’ll give you all the dirty details soon.”
“Good night,” Jenna calls after me in a sing-songy voice. It’s only as I’m opening my bedroom door that my word-choice hits her: “WAIT! Dirty details?! HOW DIRTY, ROSE?! HOW DIRTY!?!?!”
I hate to leave Jenna in the lurch…only, I kind of don’t. I’ve always had to share everything with my cousins, be it clothes, or secrets, or Halloween candy. Jenna and I even share a birthday.
I’ve always been kind of a private person, and for once, I’m feeling kind of smug about keeping this sexy story to myself. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it—in fact, I know that Jenna would probably die of jealousy if she heard it all.
Something between Daniel and myself feels…special. Kind of sacred…and secret…and holy.
Maybe I’m just still half-dumb from how hard he fucked me, but I really want to believe that there could be something more going on here…
Or maybe I just need to stop being such a fucking romantic and hit the hay.
Either way, when I wake up the next morning, there’s a message from Daniel waiting for me.
Good morning, gorgeous, the text reads, and if that doesn’t make my heart go pitter-patter, I don’t know what would.
I consider my retaliation text carefully because, yeah, I’m apparently a starry-eyed, fifteen-year-old all over again when it comes to this guy. Part of me wants to believe that he’s actually into me. That last night was actually as crazy-awesome as I feel like it was.
That there could be something real growing between us.
The other part of me is playing the cynic. It figures that this dude just has some kind of weird pregnancy fetish, and I’m a willing participant.
Good morning to you too, I send back and then, feeling sudden wave of sauciness, I add a winky face.
Sufficiently reassured that I am, in fact, a texting genius, I venture out into the kitchen and dodge another coy line of questioning from Jenna over my morning coffee.
“Rose, I’ll die if you don’t tell me,” she says, pouting.
Luckily, I can deflect her line of questioning by leaving for work, and I know she’ll be off soon with my adorable nephew to pick up her hubby form the airport.
“I’ll tell you later!” I say, practically running out the door. “Love you!”
“Love you, too, ho!” she says, covering my nephew’s ears for the last bit.
She’s a good mom, Jenna. Just, holy shit, I’ve never met a nosier person in my life.
Work is work. Another day, another dollar—whatever. The exciting thing, of course, is my ongoing chat with Daniel—who has responded super positively to my ongoing flirtation-via-emoji.
New resort opening this week. Want to get away for a couple of days? his latest message reads.
I fantasize about it for a full minute: Daniel and me, lounging around on another sexy beach, soaking up the sun, and rubbing each other’s bodies with sunscreen until—unf—his fingers curl beneath my bikini bottoms, pulling them downward as he lowers his mouth…
Then, I come back to reality with the awful truth:
I’d love to :) Need to check with my boss about getting time off, though.
Let me know, he messages back. I need to see you again, beautiful.
He doesn’t add a winky face, but I’m pretty happy with the results nonetheless. The prospect of enjoying two whole days at one of Daniel’s resorts has butterflies coming to life in my stomach. I feel like when I open my mouth to ask my boss for the time off, they’ll fly out and flutter around the office for the rest of the day.
Maybe my inner optimist is right. Maybe this can be something. The more I obsessively scrutinize Daniel’s texts to me, the more hopeful I become.
…but not too hopeful, of course. My inner cynic is still along for the ride, pinching me to make sure I’m not dreaming with every passing moment.
I know he’s a playboy, and I know I shouldn’t let my guard down…
But that doesn’t stop me from allowing myself to get my hopes up.
Just a little.
;)
Daniel
Rose is a fine conversationalist. Yeah, that’s right…I care about that kind of shit, too. It’s not always just about the pussy.
Although I have to admit…the conversations almost always lead to pussy in the end.
But Rose isn’t just a good conversationalist. She’s cute, sweet, funny, smart―and sexy as hell. So, what’s the problem, right?
Why does there even have to be a problem, you ask? Alas, the world isn’t perfect, and neither is any relationship I’ve ever been in.
I have a problem. A mental issue.
Well, allow me to rephrase. I have a setback when it comes to sex that perhaps might prove itself to be unfavorable under the circumstances of this extremely unique situation I’m currently in with Rose.
Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it:
I can’t come without a condom on my cock.
There, happy now?
Yes, it’s a mental thing. I don’t know why or when it started, but I’m always extra careful when I fuck women. Like obsessively so. To the point that I’ve trained myself to only cum fully protected.
I mean, I don’t want to have a horde of bastard children just walking around out there, while the baby mamas beg me for child support. I’ve seen enough of that shit with my step-siblings.
I’m literally shuddering at the idea right now.
Here’s the thing…Rose wants me to give her a baby. I think we’re both fully on board with the plan after our date the other night.
So how the hell am I going to retrain myself to be able to jizz out the special sauce without a condom? She pretty much needs my sperm filling up that cunt and overflowing, and the idea makes me both quiver with dread and jump for joy with excitement.
My point?
My tedious little problem has the potential to become our problem if I don’t at least put forth some solid effort to remediate the issue somehow. Given that having a child with Rose is part of the current plan, yeah…I have my work cut out for me.
It’s been a few days since I last saw Rose, so imagine my delight when my phone buzzes on my work desk, and I notice that I have a new message from her. Grinning, I scoop up the phone to check, secretly hoping that she’ll want to get together today.
Hi! I just want to let you know that I’d love to take you up on your offer to have lunch at your newest resort hotel. I’m willing to pack a bag for a few days of fun.
She ends the text with an adorable pink heart and a grinning smile emoji. I internally chuckle a moment. Why the fuck do these emoji’s do me in?
Rose is the fucking cutest, and I genuinely love spending time with her. Why else would I agree to be a live and participating sperm donor if I didn’t?
The little getaway will also be a fantastic way for us to get to know each other better and explore each other’s bodies in a more intimate way. Of course, I’m looking forward to the hot-as-hell fucking the most, but the condom problem is looming in the back of my mind.
I already plan on savoring every inch of her delicious and decadently smooth body, her warm skin, and her feminine scent. She’s amazing―pure perfection, really―and she leaves me with a throbbing in my cock that’s fucking insatiable. Given the chance, I’ll dive into her over and over, with more than a little enthusiasm.
Rose, I’m fucking thrilled. Pick you up first thing in the morning.
I send my response and smile with something I suspect is close to giddiness. And fuck, that’s never happened before. This woman…
My quest to have the most amazing woman on the planet give me my heir is well within my reach, and, well, let’s say I always get what I want.
____________________
The next morning, I’m at Rose’s doorstep, parking right outside of her apartment building to pick her up.
I’m so eager to spend the day with her, I make sure to whisk her away as early as possible so that we don’t waste a single minute.
The resort is about an hour and a half away, so I want to leave plenty of time to get there before lunch.
“Good morning,” Rose practically prances down the sidewalk to greet me.
I grin, unfamiliar, wild affection taking hold of me. Just looking at her juicy red lips and long, wavy hair makes my cock so hard it fucking aches.
She’s wearing a pastel yellow sundress this time, accentuating her gorgeous tan. She slips a slender arm around my waist and hugs me close. She smells incredible.
She plants a tender kiss on my cheek and gives me a seductive bat of her eyes. “It’s so good to see you.” The words drip from her lips like honey, and I want to devour every last drop.
I swallow hard, intensely trying to hide my growing boner in my pants.
“I’m thrilled to see you, too,” I tell her with a wink.
I help her climb into my car—I drove the Lamborghini this time—and we ride off, coasting down the street. Rose turns to smile at me.
“Tell me about your new hotel.” She says it with genuine interest, which I fucking love.
“It’s going to be completely fucking awesome,” I admit with pride. “You’ll absolutely love it, believe me.”
Rose smiles and crosses her legs in the passenger seat, revealing more of her thighs that makes me drool. Fuck, I want to be right in between them right now.
“I have no doubt I’ll be impressed,” she says.
“It’s just a soft opening, not the grand opening yet. There won’t be a lot of press and PR to worry about, and this way will be better because we can have some privacy.”
“I like privacy,” Rose winks at me, and my fucking heart actually skips a fucking beat.
Jesus, what’s she doing to me?
If there’s one non-physical trait I can say surges me into even deeper desire for Rose, it’s the fact that I can tell she’s not materialistic. She’s not the type of woman that usually just wants a piece of me, and I can see through to her true colors that she’s a down-to-earth type of girl.
I’m beginning to notice that she gets excited over the simple things in life, the things that really matter.
In my opinion, fawning over the little blessings is what makes life spectacular, and I’m thankful that I have that in common with Rose. She’s a rare flower, for sure.
After a while of talking and laughing in the car, I pull up to the valet at the hotel, and a concierge welcomes us as I pass off my keys to the valet.
“Hello, sir.” The concierge bows before me extravagantly. “What an honor it is to have you here today for lunch with us.”
“It’s a pleasure.” I’m almost embarrassed by how showy he’s being. I thank the enthusiastic man and gently place my arm around Rose’s petite waist.
The concierge beams at Rose and gives her a tiny little bow, too. “Good afternoon, madam, it’s a pleasure to have you here with us for lunch.”
“Thank you,” Rose says politely.
We walk inside the hotel together.
“Wow.”
I glance over at Rose and immediately smile when I notice how she’s absorbing the grandiose lobby, filled with modern, elegant touches and sprays of colorful orchids adorning the counters and tables.
“Do you like it?” I grin.
Rose eyes me as if I’m crazy. “Are you kidding? It’s stunning! Amazing! Just…wow.”
I chuckle. “Thank you. We pride ourselves on presentation, and the first impression is always the most important.”
“You certainly don’t disappoint,” Rose says as she gazes with what looks like fucking adoration into my eyes and squeezes my hand.
“Thank you, my lovely lady.”
I am totally fucking floored by this woman.
“Be careful, if we swoon over each other too much, people might start to talk,” Rose warns playfully.
“Let them talk,” I scoff, unaffected by what other people think.
I lead her to the restaurant that’s tucked away in a cozy corner in the back of the hotel.
“This looks swanky,” Rose whispers.
“I can’t wait to see what’s on the menu,” Rose states and rubs her flat, toned stomach. A stomach I’m quickly wanting to see nice and round with my baby. “I’m starving.”
“I’m pretty fucking hungry, too,” I whisper into her neck, loose with the sexual innuendos.
Rose catches on immediately. She glances up at me with a naughty, devious smirk. “Maybe we should save room for dessert.”
“Darling, there is always room for dessert.”
I smile as I push open the door of the restaurant to allow her to enter first.
“Good afternoon.” A tall, friendly-looking hostess greets us with a bright smile. “Table for two?”
“In the back, please,” I instruct the young girl.
As soon as I respond, a look of recognition sparks in the hostess’ eyes.
“Holy crap, you’re the owner of this hotel, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Indeed, I am.”
“Wow, well, in that case, you can have our finest booth in the back, private and secluded from most of the restaurant. Please, just follow me.”
The girl bounces away with us in tow.
When we sit down at the table, Rose is grinning at me with amusement.
“What?” I laugh as I place my white cloth napkin in my lap.
Rose shakes her head. “Nothing, it’s just…well, you’re quite the celebrity over here.”
I laugh dismissively. “Hardly.”
“Oh, come on,” Rose places her hand softly on my arm. “Give yourself some credit. You work hard, you deserve it.”
“Well…” I smile. “Thanks.”
“What’s not to enjoy?” She smiles. “You’re sexy, smart, and charming.”
My cock hardens again. “And you, my dear, are incredible. Thanks for coming with me.”
“I’m always up for a free meal,” she teases, trying to get a rise out of me, but it doesn’t work. I know she’s not using me for my money. She’s using me for my cock.
But I plan on making this a lot more than that. There are plenty of details we haven’t worked out with our baby bargain, but I have plenty of stipulations in mine. Like the fact that I want to keep Rose around me for…well, maybe forever.
The Marriage Mistake_A Billionaire Hangover Romance Page 27