Not his baby: A BWWM Billionaire Romance

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Not his baby: A BWWM Billionaire Romance Page 19

by Rebecca Dupree


  “Forget everything I said,” I said with an apologetic smile.

  The man bowed again, this time a little deeper. “Already done, miss.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s move, then,” I said, trying to catch my breath and slow down my racing heart beat as we resumed walking.

  He finally led me to our table and I was surprised to see Evan already there, waiting for me. When he saw me approach, he got up to greet me, except no words came from his mouth. He just kept staring at me. What the hell? Did he really think I looked that good? No, that couldn’t be. Oh shit, did I have something on my face? Did I spill coffee on my dress? I tried to look down surreptitiously but didn’t see anything.

  I glanced back at him questioningly, but seeing how his deep blue eyes wouldn’t leave me, I started to question that. We were both silent for a while longer, and it made me start to fidget, uncomfortable under his heated stare. Gosh, how long was he going to keep staring? I tucked some of my braids behind my ear and looked elsewhere, hoping to get the message across but he just kept staring!

  “Hey!” I called, my thin patience breaking, snapping my fingers at him, fed up with his looking. “Geez, dude it’s not like we haven’t seen each other before.”

  I huffed, still uncomfortable, sitting in the opposite chair and picking up a menu, trying to ignore the burn I felt spread across my cheeks. I just didn’t want to be under his gaze for much longer. He cleared his throat and sat down, now avoiding looking my way. If I didn’t miss, it looked like his face was tinged a little red as well.

  “So what do they serve here?” I asked, saying anything to break the silence.

  “Didn’t you pick this place?” Evan responded.

  “I picked it because it looked pretty, not because of what they served.”

  “To be honest, I have no idea,” he said, frowning at the menu. “Everything’s in French.”

  “Oh yeah.” I frowned, trying to decipher which of the words were for meals. “If only it was in Elvish,” I said with a smile, a small token to bridge the sudden gap between us, and his answering grin made me finally relax.

  “Are you ready to order?” One of the waiters asked, standing near us. I looked to Evan, raising an eyebrow in question, but he just shrugged.

  “We’ll have the specialty,” I told the waiter, handing him the menus.

  The waiter nodded and left us.

  “What’s the specialty?” Evan whispered the question, leaning forward conspiratorially.

  I leaned forward too, until our faces were so close together I could see the little flecks of sapphire in his eyes. “I have no clue.”

  We both sat there, staring at each other, at a loss of what we had ordered and what to do before we burst out in fits of giggles.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his laughter finally fading to a soft smile. “I don’t do this much.”

  “Yeah, same here,” I said with a shrug. “I guess we’re both out of practice.”

  We both laughed before we fell into silence. It was a little weird to be in his company, but to be honest, not that unwanted. I guess I kind of liked being with him. He was really nice when he wanted to try. And the fact that he was really hot certainly didn’t hurt anything. I shook my head at this and drank from a glass of water, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the heat still tingling my cheeks.

  “So, uh, what kind of work do you do?” he asked, clearing his throat, “besides working with me, of course.”

  I took another gulp of my water, glad for the distraction. “I work as a journalist.”

  “Oh, really? That’s nice. Must be interesting.”

  “Yeah, I write most of the news regarding political, social, and economic matters.”

  “Such as?” Evan asked, intrigued.

  “Secrets.” I winked at him, making him laugh and he raised his hands in defense. I laughed along with him. “Sorry, can’t tell you much about what I’m doing, but I can tell you I’m the one who wrote about the details surrounding our corrupt Senator. The story just dropped last week.”

  “Really? That was you?” Evan sat forward, an impressed look on his face and he seemed to look at me in a new light, as if seeing me for the first time.

  “Oh yeah. That was all me.”

  That was something I was really proud of. The corrupt bastard was going to get what was coming to him.

  “Well I’m glad we have someone like you giving us that information,” Evan said, toasting me with his glass and spreading a warmth through me at his approving look.

  “And you, what is it that you do exactly?” I asked him.

  He gave her a sardonic smile and answered with a shrug. “I’m a prosecutor.”

  “One of the good ones?”

  “I wouldn’t have my house if I wasn’t,” Evan answered, taking another sip.

  “It is a lovely house,” I commented, thinking that ‘house’ wasn’t quite the right term for the large estate. Mansion would probably be more appropriate. “So how many have you put away?”

  “Not to brag, but quite a few.”

  “Names?” I pried, wanting all the juicy details. What can I say? It was the journalist in me. Always digging deeper, always asking questions.

  “Nope, I can’t give any names at all.” Evan shook his head in denial. I pouted for a moment before letting it slide.

  “Oh fine. How about something a little less secretive?” I grinned at him, and his look of wariness had it widening even more, “How did you learn Elvish?”

  He nearly choked on his drink while laughing. I could see a little bit of red on his cheeks. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at him while he tried to hide his face.

  “Um, I was browsing through the internet one night, bored and alone, and I had no idea what to do so when I found this site on Elvish, and I started to learn it. I guess I was really bored. Gosh, I feel like such a nerd.”

  “Nerd and proud,” I boasted, raising my glass to him which he did too and we toasted. “So what do you normally do on dates? Do you normally take girls out to places like these?”

  Evan huffed a laugh. “The last date I went out on was with my ex-wife.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I instantly felt contrite at the question. I should have known the answer to that one already.

  Evan waved away my apology with one hand. “It’s fine.”

  He might have been saying one thing, but suddenly he got a lost look on his face. I could only imagine what he was thinking, but then a few moments later, he continued. “We met in Paris. She just seemed like the ideal woman, but I guess things don’t work out like that. Well, they didn’t work for us, anyways.”

  “Well it’s not so bad,” I said, struggling for words that would comfort him. “You had your daughter and you care about her. Stephanie is a wonderful child.”

  “I do love my daughter,” he said with a sigh and slight, pained smile. I knew things had been difficult between them since her mother left, but that love was shining in his ocean blue eyes, and that couldn’t be faked.

  “So something good came out this, right?” I asked, encouraging him to see the silver lining, and eventually he nodded along with me.

  “Yeah, it did.”

  We remained somewhat silent for a little bit, when I suddenly thought to voice something which had been bothering me since we sat down.

  “Now, I have a very important question for you,” I said slowly, hesitantly, making my tone as serious as I could.

  “What is it?”

  “…Are you just as creeped out as me by the amount of lobster that everyone is eating?”

  “Oh Lord, I thought it was just me,” Evan said with a laugh. There was honest humor in his deep blue eyes and it sparked an answering emotion in me. I leaned forward to whisper to him again.

  “Let’s get out of here, please.”

  “Gone,” he said, throwing his napkin on the table and signaling to our server.

  We asked the waiter to pack our food to go as I glanced around the dining room ag
ain. Seriously, there was an incredible amount of lobsters. I’d always found lobsters creepy, with their claws and weird antennae things. Thank God Evan shared the feeling.

  “Seriously, it’s like they’re judging you for eating them,” he said, shivering a little.

  “I know, right?” I agreed, sharing a small, knowing smile with him as we waited for him to pack up the special, whatever it was.

  “Here you go.” The waiter called, coming over to us, with the boxed food in hand, “Lobster to go.”

  I shot a look of mock horror at Evan, only to find him looking at me the exact same way. After a moment, we both burst out laughing, shocking the poor waiter as we grabbed our food and scurried from the restaurant, our giggles still echoing long after we’d left.

  ~~~~~

  Since neither of us could stomach the lobster, we had to give the food away. Thankfully I knew a great shelter nearby where they wouldn’t mind looking that thing in the eye as they ate him. One kid in particular did something with the eye that I just wanted to forget. We strolled down the street after leaving the shelter, a place I’d never expect Evan to look comfortable in, but he seemed more himself there than he had at the fancy restaurant. We couldn’t decide what to do afterwards, so eventually we settled for walking along the beach. It was close to where we already were, just a short walk to the shoreline.

  “Aren’t you cold?” he asked me, shivering a little himself.

  “I’m from Scotland; we wear skirts through winter, pal.” I gloated, ignoring the chilly night air hanging dark around us.

  “You Europeans and your cold,” Evan teased, shaking his head, “I’d like to see you go somewhere hot.”

  “Well, if you ever want to kill me, you can take me to Australia,” I joked, and Evan laughed with me, throwing me a sidelong look as we ambled.

  “Kill you from what? The heat or whatever animals they have there? Did you know there are more poisonous animals in Australia than anywhere else in the world?”

  I laughed at that, as it was a good question. Then again, I’m sure I would just die the minute I stepped off the plane. I didn’t do well in the heat.

  After a moment of companionable silence, Evan spoke up again. “So, Scotland. How is it over there?”

  “Oh lovely. We have a ton of green over there unlike America.” I closed my eyes, picturing the grassy rolling hills and dramatic cliffs. Everything seemed so flat here in comparison.

  “Hey, we have green here,” Evan defended, and I just snorted in disagreement.

  “Eh.”

  He chuckled a little stepping closer to me.

  “So what made you come here?”

  “I didn’t, my parents did,” I answered, remembering all those years ago as I stared up at the stars shining overhead. “When I was a kid, they got jobs here so we ended up moving. We would often go back during winter breaks though.”

  “Do you miss it?” he asked after a moment of walking in silence.

  “A little, but I really like the life I made here. America is a crappy country in a few senses, but it’s not so bad. It’s my country about as much as Scotland.” I turned to him suddenly, “And you, where are you from?”

  “Oh, I’m just from California, nothing special there.”

  “Hey, don’t be like that,” I scolded, bumping into his shoulder with mine.

  He laughed a little. “Well, my parents got divorced when I was little. I lived with my mom for some time there before we moved here. I do sort of miss it too. But the only reason I won’t leave is for Stephanie: she loves it here.”

  “…Well you know what they say, home is where you make it.”

  He smiled at that and I couldn’t help but smile myself. So far this didn’t feel wrong; it didn’t feel like the mistake I was worried it would be. So maybe that was a good sign. Who knew, maybe this could lead to more dates in the future.

  “So, should we go back home?” he asked, looking at me questioning, something in his blue eyed gaze uncertain, and I answered him with a soft smile.

  “Only if you buy a bottle of whisky.” I sighed.

  “As you wish.”

  Chapter 6

  Regan

  It was a good thing I’d had the idea of calling Sarah and asking her to take cover for me and watch Stephanie. Her friend had taken the little girl to her house to watch her and boy, was I grateful. Yeah, I did not want that kid to see me with her father like this.

  I can only remember coming back to his house, watching some movie in the living room even though I couldn’t remember what it was for the life of me, having some shots and then all of a sudden, as if out of nowhere, we were locking lips.

  We pulled away briefly to look at each other, both just as dazed from the alcohol, but even more by the want in both of us, by the desire burning us up. We wanted this. We wanted each other. Honestly, I may have had a few drinks, but I was sober enough to kiss him fervently, sucking on his sweet lips just as he sucked mine. God, he tasted so good, like the sweetest wine, a drug sweeping through my system, addicting me. We kissed again, hard, and I pushed him back until he was leaning on his hands.

  I crawled on top of him, straddling his hips, and continued kissing him, running my tongue inside his mouth along with his. I pushed a little too much and he fell on his back. We both giggled at that a little, lost in looking at each other again, then resumed kissing.

  I felt his hands crawling up my dress, grasping the back of my thighs and caressing my hips. I moaned at the gesture parting from his lips and giving him access to my neck while I ran my hands down his chest and abs. I have to hand it to the guy: he worked out and it paid off.

  “Wait,” he said breathlessly, pushing me away a little. “I don’t have any condoms.”

  “It’s okay, I’m on birth control,” I said hastily, getting back to kissing him. I needed his lips on mine, needed to keep tasting him.

  “Wait!” he said once he pushed me away again. “Are you sure?”

  I frowned in thought, thinking about it. I do remember going to the doctor about that, but impatience and desire muddled my thoughts and I could only focus on one thing - him.

  “Yeah,” I replied, kissing him again. I was super horny. I wanted him so bad my entire body was trembling from it, and I could feel from where I was straddled above him, that he was too.

  My hands found his shirt and began to pull it off of him; he asked no further questions and raised his arms to help me begin to take it off. Once it was over his head, I leaned back and admired his gorgeous abs while he brought his hands up my back to undo my zipper. Once that was done I helped him lift it over me and threw it aside along with the shirt, letting him admire my breasts. He did so with a look that wasn’t lustful but sensual, and it made my stomach flip. He lifted himself up and pushed back against me until it was my back that was on the couch and him on top of me.

  He gazed at me intently before taking my lips again and then he began to grind his hips against mine. I moaned at the feel of his pulsing erection between my legs. I reached my hands down to his waist and started tugging at the belt: he obliged by pulling them undone and then pushing them down. I reached my hand toward his erection and smiled in satisfaction when his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth parted in a gasp. I kept stroking his penis in my hand, watching his face twist in pleasure, although after a few strokes he grasped my hand and pulled it away; he didn’t want to come just yet.

  “Slow down a minute, Regan.” He groaned out the words, taking control as he moved above me. He leaned down for a moment, grabbing his belt and a moment later, he was back.

  He took both of my hands and tied them together with his belt, firm but not tight enough to hurt me, and he pushed them over my head. He gave my lips another kiss before he nipped at my jaw and trailed down to my neck, grinding his teeth at a sensitive spot that had me moaning, especially when he reached his hand down my panties, caressing the sensitive skin of my butt cheeks.

  I gasped at the sensations, grinding mysel
f against him. He really knew how to turn a woman on. He lowered himself from my neck and to my breasts, taking one in his mouth, causing me to bite my lip to hold back my moans. He was sucking on one of them, running his tongue over the nipple while he reached his free hand to caress the other. I kept on moaning, a constant sound I was barely aware of, grinding my legs as I felt my vagina’s natural lubrication between them. The hand on my ass found its way to my vaginal lips and he chuckled against my nipple making me moan again.

  “Eager aren’t we?” he said, lifting his head, feeling how wet and ready I already was for him.

  “You’re one to talk,” I replied with a dazed smile, grinding against his erection and making him gasp before laughing breathlessly at the movement, at the teasing between us.

  “Okay, point taken.” He grunted, pulling against my nipple, making me gasp, “But I’m not coming first.”

  That sounded like a challenge, but one that I felt I wasn’t going to win, especially when he ran some kisses down my stomach and to my pelvis, pulling my panties down and exposing my vagina.

  Oh shit he wasn’t going to...!

  I couldn’t help but arch my back in pleasure and emit a loud yelp when he started sucking on my entrance. I tried to twist myself. but he held my hips down and kept running his tongue over them, eventually reaching my clitoris. I moaned loudly when he focused his attention on that, the most sensitive part of me, sucking slowly but eagerly. I couldn’t keep my legs from moving, and my pelvis from grinding up to meet his tongue. My moans and gasps sounded all throughout the house and my hands tugged helplessly against the restraint, but to no avail. I tried to writhe away, but otherwise I could do nothing except submit to the pleasure he was making me endure.

  He continued lapping at my clitoris, spreading my legs wide apart as I continued to move restlessly, instinctively beneath him and emit loud noises. This was torture: I needed to come badly. I whined at how he parted from my entrance and I saw him smirking down at me before crawling up to suck a nipple again, teasing me because he knew how much it was tormenting me.

  “Please,” I whined, moving my hips up, desperate for more contact.

 

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