Baby Daddy (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 4)

Home > Other > Baby Daddy (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 4) > Page 1
Baby Daddy (Bad Boy Billionaires Book 4) Page 1

by Jessa James




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Baby Daddy

  Jessa James

  Contents

  Baby Daddy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Bad Boy Billionaires Series

  About the Author

  Baby Daddy

  Bad Boy Billionaires, Book 4

  By

  Jessa James

  Baby Daddy: Copyright © 2017 by Jessa James

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.

  Published by Jessa James

  James, Jessa

  Baby Daddy

  Cover design copyright 2017 by Jessa James, Author

  Images/Photo Credit: Stocksy: dimitrimaruta

  Publisher’s Note:

  This book was written for an adult audience. The book may contain explicit sexual content. Sexual activities included in this book are strictly fantasies intended for adults and any activities or risks taken by fictional characters within the story are neither endorsed nor encouraged by the author or publisher.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Wyatt Preston

  As I drove through the sprawling country club estate, I couldn’t help but think that there was such a thing as too much money. Did grass really have to be that green? I mean, kids in Africa didn’t even have water and these fancy pants were worried about a dry blade of grass? People and their priorities. I shrugged my shoulder to hide the obvious chip I had growing there and parked my sedan at the front of the valet booth. A young teenage kid walked up, clearly unenthused with my generic vehicle – he was probably used to sports cars and convertibles. Sorry, kid, I thought as I threw him the keys.

  I jogged up the marble steps and couldn’t help but smile when I saw the event board: “Victoria ‘Tori’ Elliott Birthday: in the Main Hall.” God, even her name made go all doe-eyed. I had worked for the Buchanan Industries in the Finance division for a few years, starting fresh out of college. I got hired on thanks to my best friend, Jeffrey Buchanan, and I met Tori my second day on the job. She was one of the head honchos’ personal admin assistants, but I swore her actual job was making my heart skip three or four beats whenever she walked into a room. She didn’t even know I existed, or ignored me because she thought I’m too young and too damn stupid. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

  I was only 24 but I knew my eyes look older; most of the women at the office mentioned something about my baby face and old soul not mixing. It turned out that, if you grew up in the foster care system, you didn’t come out as shiny as the kids who had healthy parents and an actual home. But nobody wants to attend that pity party, I thought to myself as I breached the double-wide, massive mahogany doors that opened into the Main Hall. Of course, Carter, one of the older Buchanan brothers and Tori’s boss, had gone all out for his cherished personal assistant. So had his fiancé, Emma.

  Tulips were everywhere and I internally high fived myself for remembering my allergy pill that morning. There was some sort of sheer, fluffy fabric on the backs of the chairs, some shiny silk on the tables, and there were glittering lights everywhere. Even the dense bulk of male I was could see that this setup was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the woman who stood, surrounded by her coworkers, just to the side of the hors d’oeuvres table. God, she’s radiant.

  Her auburn hair was flowing down her back, a rare and cherished sight as far my dick was concerned. She wore some sheer, violet blouse and slacks with these sky-high fucks me pumps that just made me want to cry. Deep brown eyes closed in laughter as some schmuck from Data Processing made a joke. Tori’s teeth were bright white, perfect, and there was a flush to her cheeks that I assumed was from her champagne glass. Whatever it was, it looked good on her. I took a deep breath and tried to act cool, smoothing my blonde fade cut like there was ever a chance that a hair was out of place.

  I moved to straighten my collar and remembered that I hadn’t worn a tie. I was grateful that Jeff had mentioned this would be a semi-casual event, which meant I still wore my cobalt blue pressed suit set with my white linen button up. While I had no idea what cobalt blue is, I did know that women stared at my dark, ocean blue eyes a hell of a lot more when I had the suit on. I hoped Tori wasn’t impervious to its charms. Oh, who are you kidding, Wyatt?

  Like the total dweeb that I was, I walked closer to the hors d’oeuvres table, chickened out, and began saying hello to my coworkers instead of the Birthday Girl. I made small talk and tried to moonwalk inconspicuously closer to her little cluster of females, hoping that I would turn around at just the right moment and make eye contact with her. I got distracted for a moment by Carter and Emma who swung through my group to say hi to everyone. Emma looked great – almost as luminous as Tori, and Carter had his hand possessively on her waist.

  As I daydreamed for a split second about being that way with Tori, Carter and Emma broke off their conversation and stared at me. With a shake of my head, I came back from my little trip down Never-Ever Lane and returned to the conversation. Act cool, Wyatt!

  “Are you OK, Wyatt?” Emma asked, putting a light arm on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to eat I think,” I mumbled as I moved towards the food. The last thing I needed was people thinking I was going to pass out. Carter chuckled and winked at me knowingly, glancing over his shoulder at Tori.

  “The Birthday Girl is probably waiting for you to say hello, Wyatt. Get your ass over there,” he grunted at me, and I felt myself go a little red. Shit, your boss knows you’ve got a crush and you’re too chicken shit to do anything about it! I collected myself a little, nodded at Carter, and walked my way over to Tori. I made sure to place my trajectory to go around her in case we made eye contact and I lost my nerve, though.

  But just as I was approaching from a safe distance, I heard the women in her little circle start to ooh and ahh over a coworkers’ cell phone. She was showing them all photos of her newborn baby and I couldn’t help but smile. What could I say? I loved kids. I decided to let the ladies do some more fawning over the pictures before I made my suave entrance, so I curved around the group and made my way to the snacks.

  I had my back to the group and was waiting for my cue to turn around when I heard Tori take a deep breath. She let it out roughly and declared, “I’ve decided to visit a sperm bank. That’s my gift to myself for my 30th birthday. I’m going to have a baby – no man necessary.” The women took a few beats to collect themselves before they all closed in on her with congratulations and feigned praise.

  “That’s so brave of you!”

  “You’re going to make a great mother!”

  “Wow, that’s a huge step. Good for you!”

  All of these women were just as shocked as I was, but for obviously different reasons. They probably thought that raising a child was freakishly hard - even with a partner - but I couldn’t help but wonder why in the hell she wanted a sperm donor. A real man would have given her children and helped her care for them. I felt
the caveman in me beat his chest a little at the thought of some random dude getting to spread his seed on territory I had claimed. And one of the things I wanted most in this world was to have a family – a real family. One that didn’t leave you alone. And now Tori wanted to have that by herself.

  I realized I was distraught, more than I had a right to be. I thought I had a few more months – or maybe even years – to woo Tori, to make her to see that I was six years younger but I wasn’t like other guys. Fuck! This was all my fault; I thought I had time. She said multiple times in the office that she had sworn off guys, but I didn’t think she wanted a baby without one. I gathered myself enough to storm to the men’s room, hoping for all the world that I didn’t look like my ass was on fire as I did.

  Once I got into the (ridiculously over-marbled, overly-carved) restroom, I made sure nobody was sitting in the stalls before I laid into myself. “You dumbass, Wyatt! You shoulda moved on this sooner. You shoulda told her how you felt, screw the age thing. Now she’s gonna go get jiggy with a turkey baster and you’re gonna be stuck holding your dick in your hands!”

  I let out a big groan of disgust, messing up my hair as I paced back and forth. I let out another long, painful sigh and turned towards the sink. As I smoothed down my hair, I looked directly at myself and felt the deep bullshit I had brewing start to bubble just below the surface.

  When I met Jeff in college, it was pure luck. I had barely made it into college by the skin of my teeth, but at that point I was out of the system and on my own. I worked my ass off for that degree and managed to meet Jeff in my last year at university. Despite my efforts to stay on the right track, though, being the illegitimate son of a deadbeat dad and a crack addict had its downsides. I was totally lost, even though I’d worked so hard to put the pieces of my life together and it looked like, from the outside at least, that I had done it.

  But the first day I saw Victoria Elliott, my second day on the job at Buchanan Industries, I thought, “That’s her. That’s the girl that’s going to make me get my shit together. I’ll do it for her.” And even though she didn’t seem to know I existed, I worked every day a little bit harder to make myself better for her. So that one day, she’d look up from that damn copy machine and see a man, not a boy. A man who was worthy of her.

  And now she was going to get knocked up by some cold-pressed sperm with her legs in stirrups at a clinic. Instead of in the arms of someone who loved her, who wanted to share a life with her. Who wanted to be a father.

  I stole one last glance at myself and said, “It’s go-time, Preston. Get your shit together. It’s time to take your hand off your dick and keep her off the turkey baster.” I turned to exit the marbled bathroom and almost ran into an elderly man who, apparently, came out of nowhere. I blew out all the air in my chest and turned bright red – there was no way he didn’t hear all that. Shiiiiit.

  He looked at me with cataract-covered eyes and eyebrows that look like caterpillars and said, “We all have to give ourselves a pep talk from time to time. Go get her, kid.”

  You’re such a fucking loser, Preston, I thought as I sidestepped the man and thanked him. I shook off my run-in with Father Time and headed to the Main Hall to get my future baby mama. I’d find a way to convince her that a sperm clinic wasn’t the only option. I have to find a way, I thought as I sped up the pace. I’m running out of time.

  Chapter 2

  Tori Elliott

  I realized I shouldn’t have told the ladies from work that I was going to visit a sperm bank the second it came out of my mouth. I watched all of their faces shift from shock to pity to blatant judgment and then I couldn’t seem to backtrack. Smooth, Tori.

  “Well, who knows if I can even get pregnant? My dickbag ex-fiance and I could never get pregnant and now I’m sort of glad we didn’t try invitro. I just don’t want to be 40, single, and childless, ya know?” I looked around, grasping at the straws of my dignity.

  A few of them looked sympathetically at me but, like a well-oiled machine, they all started glancing around at the room or snuck a peek at their smartphones. Way to scare everyone off, Birthday Girl. I rolled my eyes at myself and lifted my champagne glass to my lips. At least you can drink yourself stupid now, I amended and turned to get some of those delicious crab cakes off the hors d’oeuvres table. As I pivoted on my deliciously tall pumps, I ran smack-dab into Why-Not-Wyatt, the baby-faced Finance guy who was the only man on my “Why Not” list.

  Since the breakup, I’d sworn off men entirely, but I decided I’d make an exception for that fine piece of work. He was somewhere over 6 feet, built like he knocked people out for a living, but could still fit into an Italian-cut casual suit. On top of all that, he could pull off the bright blue hue that I was pretty sure was the exact tone of his eyes and his hair was precisely razor-faded. Why-Not-Wyatt looked straight off a GQ cover, but the best part was he didn’t even know it. I had to bite my lip to keep from sighing. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten laid.

  The suckfest that was my engagement ended because I finally figured out that there was no future with Henry. I also found out that he loved himself (and other women) a little more than he loved me. We were together for six years, three of which we were engaged. But he never tried to set a date, never wanted to talk about the wedding. I found myself avoiding the conversation around my friends, not wanting to get excited because I never knew if it was going to happen.

  And then, I caught him banging the beautician across the hall one day and even then I didn’t have the balls to cut it off. But thankfully, he did. I thought it would be a fling and he’d come crawling back, but I found out from my mother, who loved to remind me of my single-ness, that those two twits were engaged. After only six weeks together. Guess it was just me he didn’t want to marry. I groaned a little at my inward thoughts and suddenly remembered Wyatt, who had been standing there for a least a full thirty seconds now.

  “Uh… hey, Wyatt. How are you? Thanks for coming out,” I blurted out, trying to not look like I just returned from a very painful trip down Memory Lane. He looked rather concerned about my mental health, his eyebrows drawn in worry or surprise.

  “Hey, Tori. Happy birthday, this is a great setup,” Wyatt said and gestured at the grand room around us.

  “Yeah, it’s beautiful. I told Carter to keep it simple, but you know him. All of this is a bit much, but it’s a really nice gesture,” I said as I glanced directly at Carter and Emma. They were wrapped around each other and I felt a surge of warmth for my friends. Just as I was about to turn back to Wyatt, I noticed Carter as he looked up, stared directly at Wyatt standing next to me, and winked. Wyatt shifted a little uncomfortably next to me and I turned to face him. His beautiful, tanned skin was flushed just on the peaks of his cheeks, like a kid who had been running in the cold.

  As I peered at him, Wyatt’s eyes went from dark blue to a steely shade of ice and his back straightened. He suddenly looked like a man on a mission, and I had no clue what to talk about. Just as I began to look around for an escape, it became my turn to blush from head-to-toe when Wyatt spoke.

  Wyatt opened his mouth and said, “I heard what you said to Joanne and the other women. About the sperm clinic. I’d like to offer you an alternative.” At first, I felt my temperature rise in anger. How dare he eavesdrop! But then I realized that I was standing right next to the place where everyone gathered during a party - the freaking food table. Shit, I hope no one else heard, I thought as I assessed Wyatt more now.

  I saw that he was flushed a bit more on his cheeks, but not in an embarrassed way at all. In an excited, maybe even sexual way. His body was turned towards mine and it looked like he was clenching his hands to prevent himself from touching me. At that thought, I melted a little. Who knew that Why-Not-Wyatt would find me attractive? I didn’t think he had even noticed me. I was just one of the admin assistants and obviously a bit older than him. Don’t guys like younger women, not older ones?? Either way, Why-Not-Wyatt had offered me an alter
native to a sperm clinic - he couldn’t be serious. But then again… why the hell not?

  I surprised myself as I steeled my own spine and looked him square in the eyes, my brown meeting his blue. “And what do you propose, Wyatt Preston?” His eyes flared as his name tumbled across my lips and, for the life of me, I couldn’t help but think I would like to watch his eyes when I got naked. I wanted to feel his gaze on my nipples, on my thighs, on my sex. Calm down there, Hormones, I admonished myself internally.

  As we continued to just stare at each other, it became pretty clear what he was offering as an alternative to the sperm clinic. Him, I thought. He was offering himself. Of course, he was just offering sex, he had no intentions of actually making a baby. He probably just saw this as his chance to get in my pants. But I had zero luck getting pregnant with Henry - even without birth control. The sperm clinic was probably my only chance of overriding my infertility. But he doesn’t have to know that, said the little devil on my shoulder. He could just think he was being a Good Samaritan and you could go for a little joyride on your Dirty 30.

  I cleared my throat and his eyes traveled to the hollow of my neck as I swallowed down a sensual gasp. Oh yes, he’s definitely going to enjoy watching when I take off my clothes. “Tori, I…” Wyatt began, looking furtively around like he was about to share the world’s biggest secret. He shuffled closer to me and brought his hands to my hips, his massive palms rested over the shifting fabric of my favorite purple blouse. I felt flames lick down my hip bones, the curve of my ass, and all the way down to my “Someone please fuck me” pumps.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you,” he blurted out and I nearly went weak in the knees as my sex pulsed in response. Holy shit, that might be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I kept blinking, swallowed furiously, and tried to collect myself.

 

‹ Prev