The Billionaire's Reluctant Pregnant Bride: A BWWM Romance

by Imani King

  So why did I…why did I…?

  I cringe. It was too horrible to even to myself in my own mind. I had a crush on him.

  Yeah, it was pathetic. I hated to admit it. I hated, even more, to wonder when it had started. My mother had raised me to respect myself, and falling for Preston Easterbrook was the exact opposite of respecting myself. The man had everything handed to him. He was reckless. And, most of all, he didn’t respect me. He took every opportunity he could to tease me and make my life a living hell.

  But there were moments when I thought I saw more in the way he looked at me. Moments when his behavior could be almost described as sweet. Though they were fleeting, they’d left an impression on me. And, I guess over the years I’d known him, all those little moments that should have been insignificant had piled into something big.

  Very big.

  There seemed to be two Prestons: The one he was and the one the world wanted him to be.

  I knew it was stupid. My traitorous vagina just had a thing for blue eyed devils. He was several billion dollars worth of trouble I did not need or want.

  But that didn’t stop these unwanted aching sensations inside me.

  Finally I’m out the front door. I take a deep breath of cold midnight air and make my way down the driveway.

  Home wasn’t too far away. If I walked, I’d be there in about thirty minutes. I could use the time to think.

  I press my fingertips to my lips. God, what was wrong with me? We hadn’t even kissed back there on the porch, but I felt like we had. My body is certainly buzzing like we had, too.

  “Tachell!”

  For a moment, I freeze as that familiar voice spills out over me, doing dangerously beautiful things to my insides. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t think about it. “I’m going home!” I yell without turning.

  I feel something grab my wrist and spin me around. Preston is there in all his glory, the lights in the grass splaying across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones, angular features, making his face a dangerous mix of sunshine and shadow.

  My heart races. God damnit! Why did I have to become aware of this now? Why did I have to want him, of all people? Why couldn’t I just fall in love with a nice boy, one who wouldn’t work black magic on my heart and make my body feverish and my mind a gooey stupid mess?

  He pulls me closer. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I ask.

  “Don’t go.”

  I gulp. “Why not?” My voice sounds different than it normally does. A bit breathless. A bit uncertain. I’d always been certain of everything, always been so strong. He was making me weak, something I could never afford to be, and certainly not if I wanted to be taken seriously as an artist. I already knew that I’d have to face people every day who thought I couldn’t succeed. I couldn’t let them affect me.

  I couldn’t let him affect me.

  He brings my hand over to his heart. “Because…”

  I shut my eyes and try to pull away, but it’s a halfhearted effort. Still, he lets my hand go at the first sign of my resistance. It makes me wonder why I wanted so fiercely to break free. Why does he have to shatter my defenses, to make me doubt myself?

  His fingers brush over my cheek, as gentle as flower petals. Slowly, gently, they tip up my chin so that I’m looking into those deep midnight blue eyes twinkling in the dark.

  I can’t do this.

  I shouldn’t do this.

  But my protests are so difficult to remember when he’s this close and touching me so gently. He’s not breaking past my defenses, he’s melting them. He’s softly kissing away the protests of my conscious mind.

  “I don’t want you to to go,” he admits.

  “Why?” I ask again.

  His eyes soften. I don’t think it’s possible for them to get softer, but they do somehow.

  He moves so slowly and my heart is beating so fast it’s like an eternity passes before his lips reach mine. An eternity for me to rethink things. An eternity for me to push him away. But I don’t. I’m breathless with anticipation, tingling everywhere, so filled with desire that I can’t think straight. By the time he makes contact, I’m delirious.

  This kiss is so different from the other kisses I’ve received up until now. Others have been clumsy as men try to claim me, competing with my power, trying to stifle my independence. This kiss asks me what I want. It shows me he is patient. It shows me he cares.

  It’s respectful.

  It’s strong without being overbearing.

  He pulls back, and I grip his shirt, grabbing him, pulling him closer.

  “No,” he says.

  What the hell do you mean, no? You can’t kiss me like that and say no! I shout.

  He laughs, leaning forward until his lips rest on my forehead. “I mean, fuck. I forget.”

  I scowl. “God damnit, you’re really drunk aren’t you?” Right. All that reserve and strength I read into his kiss probably has to do with the fact that he’s struggling not to pass out.

  God. I could be so pathetic. So…desperate.

  I really shouldn’t be here, letting him in like this. It wasn’t good for either of us. I push him away.

  “Hey!” he yells, stumbling back. “I’m not drunk.”

  “Yes you are.” I march onward, my shoes sinking into the soggy ground. Damn, these rich people sure loved to water their lawns. I bet their monthly water bill could pay my dad’s salary.

  The truth was, I didn’t want anything to do with this world. Sure, I lived in it, but only partially. My family wasn’t respected. The friendships I made at school were wonderful, but I wasn’t one of them and I never would be. I had to fend for myself. I had my own dreams and my own ambitions. I wasn’t going to let anyone hold me back.

  My parent’s biggest wish was to see me succeed. I remember telling my mother I would be a lawyer. I got good grades and excelled in class. I was sure I could get into a top law school. My mother just frowned at me. Is that what you really want to do, Tachell?

  Well, it makes a lot of money, I explained.

  And who needs money? she asked.

  You and dad.

  Tachell, your dad and I take care of ourselves. We have a good house, a good job. We’re happy. We don’t need a lot, and we got enough to cover all our needs for the future. I didn’t work so hard to see my children not follow their dreams. I’m not gonna be a burden on you financially, now it’s up to you not to be a burden on me mentally. I want you to be true to yourself. I want you to never say no because you’re afraid. You want to help your dad and I out? You be a strong girl, Tachell. You live the life you want to live, just as we did.

  You can’t argue with logic like that.

  However, you can argue with logic like Preston’s.

  “I’m not drunk!” he wails, racing towards me at an angle. Then at another angle. And then at another angle. I bet if I stand still he’d never reach me.

  I’m the one who has to reach out to him to keep him from falling over. “You’re ridiculous. You can’t admit how much you want me.”

  “I don’t want you!” I growl, about to push him away when he kisses me again.

  Again, it’s soft. Again, it’s gentle. Again, it incites a darker passion within me that he refuses to indulge. These sweet kisses are dangerous because they make me want so much more.

  He steps away from me with freakishly dilated pupils. “I want you,” he tells me.

  I tell myself that this is stupid. We were both eighteen, but the differences between our abilities had never been clearer. Sure, I could school Preston at just about any subject, but he had me here, and he had me in a way that made me tremble with need and, for the first time in my life, doubt myself.

  I should leave.

  I should definitely leave.

  And as I left, I shouldn’t look back. Not even once.

  “You’re worried,” he says.

  Worried was an understatement. “This is kind of moving too fast, and at the wrong tim
e, and I can’t even tell how serious you are.”

  He wobbles towards me. “I am so serious right now. I want to fuck you so bad—”

  “God,” I say, completely disgusted with his lack of tact…and even more disgusted with my body’s response to it.

  “I’ll show you how serious I am,” he says, taking my hand and placing it at the crotch of his pants.

  I go still.

  “Feel that?” he whispers.

  HOLY SHIT! How could I not feel that? What the hell did he have in there, a broomstick?

  “It’s like this because I want you so much.”

  “I think it’s like that because you have a freakishly big dick.”

  He laughs.

  Alright, not the response I was expecting!

  “Tachell,” he whispers, suddenly sobering. “I love you.”

  “What?” I screech.

  “I’ve always loved you,” he whispers, grabbing my head and pushing his forehead against mine.

  Now is my chance.

  Push him away.

  Tell him he’s mean for playing such a cruel joke on you.

  He doesn’t love you. He can’t love you. He hates you and you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you stay.

  But I don’t listen to reason. Instead, I listen to my heart…and it’s beating like it loves him too.

  Chapter 23

  Tachell – Memory Continued

  “Not here, he whispers.

  Not here? It sounds like something is about to happen. Something big. And every part of me buzzes with excitement and a giddy sort of fear—the kind you might feel while inching up a roller coaster before the first big drop. And his hand is the only thing I have to hold onto before we both fall, so I grab it.

  His expression intensifies, and then we take off.

  We race past the rhododendron bushes, careful not to step on marigolds. More lights sparkle around us, and the distant noises of the party fade off into the night. Soon, it’s only us, our breath, our beating hearts. The sound of the old doorknob as he pushes it in. The sound of the old door to the pool house scraping the tile floor. He doesn’t turn on the light. His hands move to me immediately, grabbing my shirt, yanking it over my head.

  I inhale sharply.

  He kisses my neck, moving slower, his hands slipping beneath my bra over my oh so sensitive skin. The fountains ripple outside. My fingernails dig into my arms.

  “Don’t be nervous.”

  Easy for him to say. It wasn’t his first time.

  “I—I haven’t done this before,” I admit.

  He stops.

  “Not with Everett?” he asks slowly.

  “No.” I gulp. “We aren’t even going out anymore. He broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out.”

  Preston pulls me in close. “Good girl.”

  What the hell? “I don’t see what’s so good about it. I mean, look at what I’m doing now. And you’ve given me even less than Everett.”

  He leans lower, his eyes becoming pensive. Even in the dark, I can read their expression clearly. “I love you.”

  Oh God. It’s a good thing I’m sitting, because I am not prepared for this. Sure, he’s said it a few times now, but each time I hear it I feel like I’m gonna explode. I turn my head to the side, cheeks suddenly hot, suddenly aware of my state of undress. My emotions as messy as the clothing discarded on the floor. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t—don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.”

  He takes my face in his hands again, and I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling very young.

  “Look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Tachell…”

  “There’s no need to.”

  “Please.”

  Well, it’s hard to say no when he’s begging, when his voice is so soft and sweet. I blink, and his perfect face comes back into view.

  “I love you,” he says. “I’ve always loved you.”

  No.

  “I didn’t know how to say it. I’m so sorry. You deserve…better but…I really want you.”

  I can tell. That part of him is aching between us, twitching, and I truly do believe he’s in physical pain.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  His hands seem almost uncertain as they grip my legs, pushing them apart softly. The tip of him slides between me, a bit of precum.

  Oh God.

  This was happening. With Preston. His shirt is open, exposing his sculpted chest. His pants unzipped. And I’m naked, completely naked, and he’s looking down at me like I’m some sort of fairy creature that will disappear at any moment.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispers, bringing his hand down to caress my cheek. “I’ve thought of this for so long…”

  “Don’t think about it any longer.” Don’t let me think about it any longer. I don’t want to break the strange spell that’s fallen over us. Me, hearing everything I’ve ever wanted to hear from Preston. All the beautiful things I’ve wanted him to say that I know he would never say. Maybe they are just beautiful lies, but tonight, they are my beautiful lies.

  I tremble, for a moment, telling myself that I’m weak. That I shouldn’t give in this easily, so easily, to him. That this is some sort of cruel game.

  Then, his mouth comes down over mine, and I’m lost again in that sweet darkness of uncontrollable desire.

  He pushes my legs back, grip tightening on my knees. My core clenches as the tip of him pushes in.

  “Aaahh!” I cry out as he opens me.

  “Tachell,” he whispers in my ear, not moving, allowing me to adjust to his size and the sudden pain.

  For a few moments he just holds me, and I hold him back, my pussy pulling on him and his low, pleasured breaths coming in my ear. I wrap my legs around his back, and he moans.

  “Okay,” I tell him.

  His hands shake. “Tachell…”

  “I’m okay. Now.” I pull back just enough so I can feel his eyes. “I want to.”

  His expression is so serious suddenly. Concentrating on nothing but me. He moves slowly, elegantly, and that night is everything I could have imagined it to be. Everything I have ever dreamed of. Perfection. Everything I wanted.

  I allow all the feelings to come out for this boy.

  This boy who teased me about my hair, about the way I looked, about the way I could play sports like a boy.

  This boy who I caught glancing at me with a look of respect when he thought I wasn’t looking. This boy who stood up for me when I wasn’t watching. This boy who could never tell me how he truly felt until now.

  And how he felt was everything I could have dreamed of and more.

  So much more.

  We finish together, breathless, inexperienced maybe, but only in the feelings that consume us both, because we move naturally, our bodies already in tune to pleasing the other, taking so much joy in giving joy to the other.

  And he kisses me again, rolling to the side, holding me against his chest. So warm, his heartbeat slowing. I curl into him and he hugs me tighter.

  And he says it again. Those three little words I never thought would mean so much, especially coming from him.

  “I love you.”

  I wake up cold.

  I frown, stretch, reaching for the other side of the bed.

  It’s empty.

  That’s strange. Did he leave…? Why would he leave? I get up, put on my clothes. Well, I didn’t expect my first morning after losing it to be like this, that’s for sure. But Preston is probably off doing something important. Normally, I would just go home, but I’m hungry and I know they have chefs out doing breakfast so I see no reason not to go back to the main house.

  I cross the lawn. I don’t look any different. I indulge a bit in the mirror.

  “Preston loves you,” I whisper to my reflection.

  Dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair. The exact oppo
site of his type, which is pretty clearly blonde and blue eyed and fair skinned, though he will occasionally go with someone with a tan.

  I can’t help but smile.

  He said he always loved me.

  It seems…too good to be true. I still can’t help but feel like I’m being played, but even if it was just a one time thing, I’m glad it was him like this. Even if we don’t end up together forever. I mean, I know that it’s very rare for high school relationships to work. We haven’t even gotten to college yet, and we’re going to different schools.

  But maybe this summer…

  Andy there would be Reggie. I wonder what he’d think if he knew his best friend was nailing his twin.

  Oh man. That was gonna get real awkward real fast.

  But Preston could take it, and I could take it. I was willing to fight for this, for him. Because I believed. And maybe that was stupid and not something that I should believe in, but I couldn’t help it. It meant something to me.

  I walk across the lawn, my flip flops swinging from the pointer finger and middle finger on my right hand. My left hand shades my face, taking a good look at the view. Such a beautiful property. It was crazy that one person lived here. That Preston lived here.

  I didn’t come over that much. Maybe a few times as a kid when I was playing with Reggie, but as I got older I avoided it like the plague.

  Still, I know my way around. I head for one of the side doors around the back of the house. It’s where I enter.

  When I get inside, I hear something.

  God.

  The woman starts screaming, and then there’s the distinct sound of an ass slap. “Shut up. Someone will hear you,” another feminine voice says.

  There were two girls in there? Wow. Some people really did love to go at it. Everyone thought the girls at our school were all prim and proper because they had money, and they were—but they also knew how to indulge and they had such high status that it wasn’t like anyone could go after them. Not like a girl like me. Everyone was constantly looking down at me, and any indiscretion was seen as a blight against my family. Double standards were so ridiculous.

  “Oh God,” she whimpers. Now the other girl is crying too.