Anonymous Encounters (The Billionaires Club Book 5)

by Cassandra Dee

  She was so tiny! Her frame was so thin, she barely made a bump against the sheets. She lay corpse-like, her hands peacefully folded, skin waxen against the sterile setting.

  I could barely breathe, putting my head between my knees before I hyperventilated. What had I been thinking? I’d dragged Wildflower to my parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, not bothering to tell her where we were going. I knew she was upset about the fact that we were step-siblings, but I’d been so angry with her that I wanted to throw her in the lion’s den. The sudden sight of her biological father, Robert Woodson, had stunned her and she’d fainted in the ballroom, collapsing amidst the press of the crowd.

  After that, everything grew blurry for me. I knew I’d acted like an animal, immediately on my knees beside her, her head in my lap as I tried to revive her.

  “Call 911,” I’d snapped. “Get the Club’s private doctor here. Call my doctor as well and tell him to meet us at the hospital.” I’d barked orders like a man possessed, cradling her lifeless form.

  “Alana, shhh, hush baby, everything’s going to be alright,” I’d crooned, rocking her back and forth. Her limp body was still and quiet, even as the party guests thronged around us.

  “Who is that?” I could her people asking.

  “She must be someone special, Luke’s on his knees,” said another.

  “She looks like Robert …” said a third.

  I’d had this crazy idea that maneuvering a confrontation between Alana and her biological father would force us to take on the issue of incest, and spark a conversation about Georgie, our beautiful baby boy already born of the relationship. But clearly, I’d been dead-wrong. Robert and my mom had no idea who she was, and Alana had been wildly unprepared. So much so that my miscalculation had caused this … the love of my life unresponsive and dead to the world, hooked up to all sorts of monitors in our bedroom.

  I cursed myself. Love of my life? Yes, that’s what this horrific, terrifying situation had forced on me. The moment she’d collapsed, I’d had the sudden realization that nothing else mattered except for this woman. Not the fact that she’d left me two years ago without warning… not the fact that she’d kept my son from me during the two year absence … not the fact that our relationship was technically forbidden by rule of law. What mattered to me was that my Wildflower was alive and well, happy and content with our son in her arms.

  I realized that every last barrier I’d erected had come crashing down. I’d been determined to take Georgie from her, crushing her in a custody battle with my superior resources. But now I was willing to give her anything … even if it meant taking Georgie to the far ends of the earth. I was a rich man. I’d find some way to see Georgie regularly, my boy would know his father.

  But all of that seemed insignificant now. Sobs wracked my body, coming out in choked gulps as my lungs heaved for air. I clutched her hands in mine, terrified at their coolness, how small they seemed underneath my big fingers.

  “Wildflower, I’m so sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry for everything …”

  I caught my breath, knowing she couldn’t hear me, but my heart was so full I needed to talk just to get things out of my system. “Wildflower,” I started again. “You’re everything to me. Everything that I’ve said to you in the past two weeks is bullshit. I was wrong, I was terrified too. I know you only had my best interests at heart when you left me two years ago.”

  “I was angry that you kept my son from me. But I know you did it to protect me – you were afraid of what people would say if they found out that we’re stepsiblings. But don’t you see? It’s too late. Georgie’s already here, and I love both you both with all of my heart.”

  “Yes, love,” I gasped, almost barking out the words. “Do you hear that Alana Johnson? I love you. I always have. I loved you the minute I saw you across the room in that waitress outfit. You were like a shining star in the middle of a boring meeting, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you after that.”

  “And it’s been like that for two years now. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, you haunt my days and nights. Every morning, I think of you as soon as I wake, and at night, I pray that I’ll dream of you. Your warmth, your sweetness, has been what’s kept me going all this time.”

  “And I’ve just found you again, you and our beloved baby boy. You can’t leave me so soon after coming back. I’ll do anything to make things right by you … whatever you need, you and Georgie will always be the ones for me, whether you stay here or go somewhere else. Please, just don’t die Wildflower, it’s too early. I can’t let you go so soon after finding you again,” I sobbed, my mea culpa barked and gritty, the outpouring of my feelings for this girl who had captured my heart two years ago and never let go.

  I held her hands to my face, kissing her lifeless fingers, gripping her so hard that surely I must have cracked a few knuckles. But there was nothing on her waxen face to show that she’d felt any pain, or heard anything I’d said. She was truly in a comatose state, the panic of public shaming causing her to shut down, mentally even if her physical body was still there.

  What had I done? I berated myself and buried my hands in my fist. My life was over when it had just begun.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Alana

  I could hear him sobbing through the haze that was my mind. My brain felt cloudy, as if there were cotton balls surrounding my senses, making it impossible to speak, move or give any indication of life. I could hear the beeps and hums of machines next to me, their incessant whirring a steady fade of white noise.

  As I tried to clear my head, my eyelids flickered momentarily. I could see Luke with his dark head bowed against my hands. He sobbed, feverishly kissing my hands as his big shoulders heaved and hot tears coursed down his face. What was causing him to lose his self-control?

  Suddenly, the events of last night came rushing back and I lapsed back into stillness, the anguish overwhelming. Luke had been so angry with me that he’d anally raped me before dragging me to a black-tie event. What I’d thought was a routine charity function as actually his parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary. His parents being his mother and my biological father.

  You see, Luke and I are step-siblings, and our love is one that’s technically forbidden. We didn’t know when we embarked on our relationship two years ago, but when I’d found out, I’d immediately left him, not wanting to smear this powerful, potent man with the shadow of incest.

  It’d been too late for me though. I was already pregnant with Georgie, and my joy upon finding out had been so overwhelming I’d nearly cried in relief. I’d never be able to see Luke again, but I’d always have a reminder of him in my beautiful boy with his grey eyes and raven hair just like his father’s.

  Until one day, Luke had stumbled upon us. Georgie’s resemblance to his father had been far too strong to deny, and Luke had immediately swept him up, beginning the whirlwind of activity that I’d always associated with my strong, powerful alpha male.

  He’d moved us out of the public housing projects to live with him in his penthouse apartment in this exclusive gated community. But it hadn’t all been wine and roses – he’d been so angry with me for keeping Georgie from him for the past two years that he’d raped me, forcing his cock into my untested anal canal.

  But I love him, have always loved him, and the rape was nothing more than an act of love between two people furious at one another, but also loving desperately. We had coupled in a wild, instinctual manner that was one hundred percent consensual even though it was out of control and brutal in some respects.

  I’d still had his cum dripping out of me when he’d shepherded me off to that charity event. And when I realized that he was going to force a confrontation between myself and Robert Woodson, and reveal to his entire social circle that he’d had a baby with his stepsister, I’d completely collapsed, the world a whirl as the floor came rushing up to me.

  And here we were. I must have hit my head on something because I could
feel a dull throbbing pain on the back of my skull, and my thoughts were still woozy from shock and disbelief.

  How could Luke do this to me? To himself? How could we have normal lives if we were outed to the public? We’d be shamed and humiliated. Even if people were too scared to say anything to the rich and powerful Luke Miller’s face, there would always be whispers and sneaky glances, always the hush of “Did you know …?”

  I wasn’t prepared to live like that. It’s one thing for me to disappear back to the projects where I was born and raised, but I couldn’t stand that my baby boy would be forever branded the product of incest. Georgie deserved better, and I needed to make sure my son had a fair shot in the world.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Luke

  I was in my study, trying to get my eyes to focus on some spreadsheets. After Alana’s accident, I’d worked from home, not bothering to go into Atlantis Records for the past week. Her vitals were good but there was still no sign of life and I wanted to be there when she woke. So I’d become her sentry, sitting by her bed through the night, hovering like a watchful guardian over the beautiful blonde.

  The only good part about this was Georgie. I’d held my son as we watched over his mom, and the bond between us was deep and immutable. The little boy had charmed me thoroughly. Even if we hadn’t been biologically related, the chubby child with his waving fists and innocent eyes had completely won me over. I was more than in love … I was head over heels with my son, hands down.

  I’d tucked Georgie in for the night though, and sat staring at the spreadsheets before me. I’d received calls and emails from various friends and associates, asking about the blonde, curious if everything was okay. And of course, there was the ominous voicemail from my stepdad, requesting a callback.

  Fuck it. I was my own man. My stepdad was gearing up for a political run and wanted my help in fundraising. After all, I’m a powerful man in New York City, and any public office is as much a function of money as it is votes. But I couldn’t see how to square this away … potential senator has a grandson by his daughter and stepson? Potential senator is a leading proponent of family values, except when it comes to his own family? The press would have a field day. I groaned, the issues so tangled with no clear moral guideposts.

  Suddenly, I heard a soft rapping on the door.

  “Thanks Conchita, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I called out. Conchita was our housekeeper cum nanny.

  The door creaked open though, and I swiveled in my chair. It was unlike Conchita to come in without being invited, and it must have been something extraordinary. Instead, I saw a ghostly vision of Alana, thin and terribly pale, slip into my office.

  Her long blonde hair hung loosely down her back, and she wore nothing but a white silk robe that I’d put next to her bed. Bastard that I was, my eyes immediately roved over her figure, noting the pale face and thin hands, but also the fact that she must have been naked underneath the robe. I could see the tips of her breasts cresting against the white satin, and her thighs were smooth and delicious under the short hemline.

  “Alana!” I started, bolting out of my chair. I rushed over to her and grabbed her in my arms, holding her close, being careful not to break her fragile bones. Her scent wafted up to me, sweet and natural, just like a wildflower.

  She relaxed against me momentarily before pulling away again.

  “Luke, don’t …” she said quietly.

  I wasn’t sure if she meant “don’t” physically or emotionally. She was mentally fragile, sure, but it was also possible that she’d felt my burgeoning erection against her tummy. I couldn’t help it. Everything about this woman turned me on, even when she was just up from her sickbed.

  “Down boy!” I mentally commanded my unruly dick. Fortunately, the gravity of the situation seemed to restrain him somewhat, and he didn’t grow further, even if he didn’t exactly deflate.

  “Alana, are you okay?” I growled. “How do you feel?” My outpouring of love and support was impossible to stop. Now that I knew that this woman meant the world to me, I could hardly mask my feelings, instead carrying on like a twelve year-old boy.

  “Luke, I’m okay,” she said softly, her hands lying on my chest. She was so tiny against me, a gust of wind could blow her over in an instant. And yet this brave, beautiful woman had borne a child on her own, and raised him as a single mother for two years. My heart turned over again, and I dropped a sweet kiss on her neck.

  “Wildflower, tell me how you feel,” I rumbled into her ear, nibbling at her lobe and pressing more kisses against her neck. I felt her stiffen but then relax in my arms, growing boneless and loose. I swept her up and sat in the big couch in my office, cradling her like a child.

  “Tell me what it is…” I breathed. Bastard that I am, I could feel her little rump against my erection and he was growing hard again. I could also see into the vee of her neckline, and the sight of those pale, creamy mounds didn’t help.

  “Luke, I’m so confused,” she murmured against me, nestling into my chest as if seeking my heat. “How long was I out for? My head still hurts and there’s a pounding behind my eyes that just won’t stop.”

  “Honey, you were out for a week. I was so worried. Everyone’s been so worried, including Georgie,” I said. “But our baby boy is fine,” I continued. “He misses his mama, but he’s been eating and growing like a hungry two year-old.”

  “Oh my god, Georgie!” she cried. “I’d been weaning him, were you able to use the extra breast milk that I had?”

  “Yes,” I hushed. “We found the spare supply in the refrigerator and Conchita has been feeding him a combination of your breast milk and formula. Georgie’s never been happier,” I reassured her.

  I didn’t tell her that it’d been a delightful shock to discover that she’d been lactating. When I’d seen that first wet spot on her patient gown, I’d been confused. Georgie was almost two, wasn’t he too old to be breastfeeding? But the nurse had explained that some children breast feed for much longer, and evidently my son liked the taste of his mother’s milk.

  Plus, I’d been in charge of pumping her during her coma. The nurse had explained that she needed to be pumped twice a day, and I’d dutifully attached the mechanical pump to her nipples and let it whir as she lay in her hospital bed. My feelings were mixed and deeply, dangerously dirty. On the one hand, I was sad that my baby wasn’t getting his milk straight from his mother, but at the same time, I was secretly coveting the warm, nutritious liquid he drank each day. On more than a few occasions, I’d cleaned her up by lapping at her nipples after a pumping session, savoring the taste of my Wildflower in a delicious new way.

  Even now, I could see a damp stain on the front of her white silk robe. The material was so sheer that even a few drops would cause it to become transparent, and I could make out her rosy nipples pressed against the white fabric, her creamy mounds looking ripe and ready.

  Without thinking, I let my index finger trail up the curve of her cleavage to circle one of the wet peaks with the pad of my finger. She tossed her head and moaned, almost in pain.

  I stopped immediately. “Wildflower, is this ok?” I asked softly.

  “Oh Luke,” she sighed. “I’m just so confused,” she murmured. “What are we going to do?”

  “Baby, I don’t know yet, but we’ll find a way,” I promised, breathing into her ear and nuzzling her neck. “For now, just feel okay? You’ve been out for a while and there’s no need to stress yourself out before you’re even back on your feet.”

  She acquiesced and lay back in my arms, spread out before me like a feast. It was more than I could have hoped for, and my senses went into overdrive at once. My cock popped hard against my fly, and every muscle in my body stiffened, as if getting ready to drive itself into her.

  I leaned over her ravenously, softly kissing her neck before trailing my lips down to the vee of her robe. The material had parted somewhat, and the insides of her creamy jugs were displayed. I could see the areola of one pee
ping out, and took the opportunity to trail my lips against that sensitive flesh.

  “Ohh!” she sighed, her chest heaving underneath me. Her boob was delicious, the flesh soft, creamy and oh so sweet under my tongue. Her jugs were firm, yet pillowy, and I nuzzled them, letting my face get bounced between the enormous mounds. I trailed my tongue to a nipple and this time latched on, catching the little nub between my teeth.

  “Oh!” she moaned, her body twisting in my lap. Now that I knew what to look for, I could taste a few droplets of milk on my tongue. I raised my hand to her boob and began squeezing it rhythmically, milking her as I suckled. My fist started at the base of her tit, firmly applying pressure as I moved over the tip and then finished with a twist near the top. Sure enough, milk began squirting gently into my mouth, the jets warm and succulent.

  Alana realized what was happening and sat up with a gasp, struggling to cover herself as her robe fell around her hips.

  “Stop, Wildflower, shhh,” I soothed, stroking her thigh as I continued to nuzzle. “We realized you were lactating when you were in a coma, and kept pumping the breast milk for Georgie,” I murmured.

  “You … you were pumping my breast milk?” she asked with a horrified squeal.

  I sat up and looked her in the eye. “Yes baby, I was,” I stated. “And there is nothing that makes me more proud than the mother of my child nursing my son so that he gets the best nutrients. I was incredibly gratified to know that my child wasn’t raised on formula,” I growled, stroking the curve of her cheek as she flushed hotly.

  “Thank you so much for taking such good care of my baby … our baby,” I amended. “You are a wonderful mother,” I added.

  She seemed to melt beneath me, and I knew I could have my way with her. I lay her out full-length on the couch and stretched out on top of her, balancing on my forearms so not to crush her with my mass. The snake of my erection lay heavily against her thigh though, and I was happy that she didn’t squirm away with anger or shock.