by Lia Lee
I’d lost my wife Clara when Lily was only three. It had been heartbreaking, but we’d gotten through it. Once upon a time – when Lily was still young – I had considered it. She’d been upset with me, telling me I was ruining what we had, forgetting Clara. I had understood here she’d come from. I’d let her have her way – spoiled her. Maybe that had been wrong. Now, I wanted something again. Not a woman–women were full of shit. A son.
When the meeting was finally over, I walked back to my desk. Serena came in with my afternoon coffee.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You had a call from a Miss Forbes,” she said after I took the coffee from her. “She asked you to call her back at this number.” Serena handed me a note with a phone number on it.
“Thank you,” I said again. “That will be all.”
Serena left the office. She was used to being dismissed. If a woman didn’t know how to make herself scarce when I didn’t need her, there was no space for her in my life. I didn’t do small talk, I didn’t do compassion, and I didn’t do anything other than what I was good at. And I was good at exactly two things: making money and fucking.
I dialed the number on the note and waited.
“Yeah?” Scarlett answered, her voice clear on the other end of the line.
“Scarlett. It’s Evan. You asked me to call.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I was hoping we could try that meeting again, if you haven’t found someone better yet.”
I swallowed. No one would be better or worse. They were all the same for my purposes, a walking uterus, a breeding machine for the heir to my throne. But I wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“I haven’t filled the position yet,” I said.
“Can we meet tonight?” she asked.
I glanced at my watch. “Yeah, I think I can squeeze it in. Meet me at Bar 54 at six.”
“I’ll be there,” she said.
This was going better than I thought it would after our first brief meeting. Maybe Scarlett would be on board after all.
Bar 54 was a rooftop bar, fifty-four stories up, that looked out over Manhattan. It had a classy feel to it with wood-paneled walls, a mirror tiled mosaic ceiling, and a bar that faced the window with wooden stools.
I sat there drinking a glass of Rough Rider Straight Bourbon. It tasted like self-confidence with a hint of Merlot, and it made me feel like I was king of the fucking world.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Scarlett said, coming up next to me and sitting down in the stool next to mine. She had undone her hair, and it hung in thick brown waves over her shoulders. “Thank you for meeting me.”
I stared at her. She was the epitome of sexy. Her eyes darted around the bar, her lips slightly parted as if she was slightly out of breath. Oh, God, yes.
“What can I get you to drink?” I asked.
“Just water, please.”
I raised my eyebrows. She was reserved. I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. I didn’t know what she wanted to talk about.
I ordered her a bottled water.
“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked when the water arrived. I poured it in a glass for her, and she watched the water swirl.
She nodded, taking a sip and setting the glass down again.
“I thought about it all again,” she said. “And I want to talk about your contract. I want to do this for you.”
“What changed your mind?” I asked.
She sighed. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not in a good place financially. I have a Master’s degree, but I can’t find a job, and I got an eviction notice today. I have so many bills, I’m drowning. Student loans. Credit cards. Overdue rent. That kind of thing.”
“So, you’re doing it for the money?”
“Well, it won’t exactly be for love, will it?” she said. She was sassy. I liked that. It made me want to fuck it out of her. I was thinking dirty thoughts. This wasn’t about sex, I reminded myself. It wasn’t what I would be paying her for.
“Right,” I said.
She took another sip of water. “Sorry,” she said. “This is just something I’ve never even thought of doing before. But that money you offered… it’s a lot. And I need money.”
I studied her face. I was aware of her tits beckoning to me below her chin, and I would much rather have studied them, but I had to be civil about it. For now, anyway. I didn’t want to scare her away.
“You’ll commit to this?” I asked. “Having a baby is serious.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“And I’m going to ask you to sign a contract. To protect both of us. Are you willing to do that?”
She hesitated only a moment before nodding again.
“Let me explain to you exactly what I want from you,” I said. “It will all be in the contract once you agree to read and sign it, but this is what’s going to happen. I want to sleep with you until you get pregnant.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not doing the IVF thing or insemination? How does it work?”
I shook my head. “I want to do it traditionally.” Okay, so I was being a dirty old dog for wanting it this way. Until I’d seen her I hadn’t considered having sex for this but I was lusting after her like a son of a bitch and I was going to pay big bucks for this. “I want you to carry my child and give birth. And then, you’re free to go.”
“Just like that?” she asked.
I nodded. “You are under no obligation to stay in the child’s life or mine.”
Her expression changed, but I couldn’t read it. I was sure I’d laid it out correctly. I could have told her how I’d thought about it. I could have told her that I wanted to fuck her, make her mine until she couldn’t help but give me a child, but that was crude. It was true, but crude.
I would save those admissions for after she agreed to my proposal.
“One more thing,” I said. “The ad wasn’t specific enough – I did it so that I wouldn’t scare of potential customers, but I am only paying if you give me a son. I want a son.”
She blinked at me. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said.
I shrugged. “These are my terms.”
She looks out of the window, thinking.
“I’ll do it on one condition,” she finally said, turning her dark eyes back to me. “You have to convert all my expenses until the baby is born so I don’t have to worry about cash, If it’s a girl and you don’t pay me, I’ll be able to get a job again after the child is born.”
A business mind. I liked it.
“Done,” I said.
“You’re sure?”
“If you are,” I said. “You’re going to be carrying the child. And sleeping with me. You understand that, right?”
She shrugged with one shoulder. Was she that nonchalant about it?
I nodded. “I’ll email you the contract tonight.”
She nodded, that expression still on her face. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“Do you want to take more time to think about it?” I asked.
She shook her head.
It was settled. She left not long after, and I had the privilege of watching her leave again. God, that ass could inspire wet dreams. I paid for our drinks and left, too.
I lay in bed that night, thinking about her. This was about getting an heir, raising a child to take over my company, and raising a son when I felt terribly alone. But on the way to getting my child, I could fuck the hottest woman alive.
I pulled down my boxers and palmed my dick, which was hard and throbbing. I wanted to fuck her so badly. I wanted to strip off her clothes, suck on her tits, and pull her hair. I wanted to bend her over the bed, spreading that beautiful ass as I fingered her pussy. I wanted to fuck her from behind, watching her body rock back and forth, hearing her moan and scream my name.
With my fingers wrapped around my cock, I jacked myself off, pumping my hand up and down, imagining it was Scarlett. I wanted her lips around my dick, her tongue hot and wet sliding up and down my shaft. I w
anted her to suck me dry, pumping her head so that I slid down her throat. I wanted to come all over her, in her mouth, inside of her.
I groaned as my orgasm built and my balls tightened. I stroked harder. Fucking myself wasn’t the same as being inside a woman, least of all a woman like Scarlett, I was sure. But that would change soon. I would fuck her as soon as I was able, and I wouldn’t stop until I planted my seed in her. And then some.
I groaned as I orgasmed, pumping hot liquid all over my stomach and my hand. I let out a sigh. This would be a hundred times better if it was down Scarlett’s throat or in her pussy.
Soon, I told myself.
Chapter Three
Scarlett
Just before lunchtime on Wednesday, I took a cab to Manhattan. I had agreed with Evan that we could meet for lunch to discuss things, but I didn’t want him to come to Brooklyn. The lunch spots in Brooklyn weren’t my favorite, and for someone who was used to forking out money, I was sure there were better spots in Manhattan.
I was nervous. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I needed the money, and what else was I going to do? Besides, Evan was ridiculously charming, and last night, he’d managed to persuade me that this was exactly what I wanted.
The cab stopped in front of the Sunflower Café, and I got out. Evan had asked me to meet him here for lunch. I’d thought it might be too fancy, the way the hotel had been for our little meeting. Bar 54 hadn’t exactly been chilled out, either. It had had a chic vibe that was nothing like the places Lily and I usually went to.
But the Sunflower Cafe was a nice place. Tiled floors stretched wall to wall with little lights hanging from the ceiling. Wooden tables and chairs gave the place a homey atmosphere, and I felt a lot more comfortable.
Evan arrived only a few minutes later. He looked put together as always, with a suit that showed off his muscular frame and a tie that made him look a little out of place. When he spotted me, he smiled and walked to the table.
“You look fantastic,” he said.
I blushed. I couldn’t help it. Something about Evan made me feel disoriented, like I was fresh out of high school and not used to male attention.
“You look pretty good, too,” I said, feeling like an idiot.
I had decided to wear a summer dress and cork wedges, with my hair in a ponytail. I didn’t feel like I looked fantastic at all until Evan had said it.
“What are you going to have?” Evan asked.
I looked down at the menu, shaking my head. It was the last thing I could think about now, knowing what we were going to do. I had agreed to be a surrogate mother for Evan, which meant that we would be sleeping together. I had dreams about it for a long time, but this was suddenly real. How could he sit here and look so calm about it? Judging by how comfortable he was around women, maybe this was normal for him.
“How are you going to do this?” I asked.
Evan looked at me, and his green eyes were full of humor. Was he laughing at me?
“We’re going to choose something on the menu and ask a waitress to bring it to us.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Evan chuckled. “You don’t have to be so nervous,” he said.
“Easy for you to say,” I said. “You’re not the one that is being paid by an attractive billionaire to have a baby.”
Evan chuckled again, and his laughing green eyes were mesmerizing. He reached across the table and took my hand. When our skin touched, electricity passed from him to me, and my breath hitched in my throat.
“Let’s just take it as it comes,” he said. “We’ll get the details out of the way, and the rest will come naturally.”
He seemed so comfortable about it all. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been with other men, but this felt so much different. In a way, it felt like it would be the first time.
“So, let’s talk details,” he said, looking at me. “Do you take birth control pills?”
I blinked at him. He asked me so matter-of-factly.
“I… ah…”
“Scarlett, we’re going to get a lot more intimate with each other. You’ll have to trust me with personal details.” Evan sounded serious, and I knew he was right. Why was I being difficult about such a small question? I was going to sleep with him and carry his baby, for God’s sake.
“I’m not on birth control,” I said, blushing. I didn’t have money for a doctor’s visit or the monthly payments.
“That’s perfect, so we can get to it right away,” Evan said, not even asking why I wasn’t on birth control. He said “get to it” like it was a business transaction.
I guessed it was. A baby for seventy-five million dollars. The sex in between was just an afterthought to him. God. To think that soon, we would be fucking? It was crazy.
I’d dreamed about Evan so many times–sex dreams where he had me in all sorts of positions, taking me repeatedly. I’d fantasized about him again and again–my friend’s hot dad who happened to have one of the best bodies I’d ever seen and eyes that made me feel naked when he looked at me.
“I set up an appointment for you with a gynecologist,” he said.
I swallowed hard. Surely, I could have made an appointment? He hadn’t even asked me.
“I trust her,” he said as if he knew what I was thinking
I nodded. Considering that he was forking out this much money for me to carry his baby, I guessed I could go along.
“The appointment is for three,” he said. Which meant that we would go there straight after lunch.
And we did. We went to the offices of a Dr. Monroe. We sat in the waiting room. Mothers in various stages of pregnancy sat waiting. I looked at their bellies. This was what was waiting for me. They looked at me, glancing at Evan. He was old enough to be my father. He looked so important, though, that no one made a point of saying anything.
“Forbes,” a lady called from the office door, and I stood up.
“I’ll wait here for you,” Evan said.
Thank God. I’d been terrified that he would insist on coming into the consultation with me. That would have been too much for me to handle. I felt like I might not have the liberty to say no to Evan, should he insist on being inappropriate. He was paying, after all, and I needed the money so badly.
“Miss Forbes,” the gynecologist said, smiling at me, and I relaxed right away. She looked to be a few years older than me, and she had a friendly smile. Her light hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. “You’re looking to get pregnant, I hear?”
I nodded. “Surrogate,” I said.
Monroe nodded. “Evan told me. I’m so happy he’s taken this step.”
How much had Evan told her?
“Let’s see what we’re working with, shall we?” she asked.
She did a series of urine and blood tests and asked me questions about my cycles and routines. I felt comfortable discussing them with her. I could see why Evan would trust her, although why he knew such a good gynecologist was anyone’s guess. She couldn’t be old enough to have been Lily’s mother’s doctor.
“All right,” Monroe said when we were done. “The blood test results won’t come back for a few days, but I can tell you what I do know. You should be ovulating about a week from now, so if you’re all set, you can get going as soon as you want to. I think we should arrange for the two of you to come in here together and we can talk about your options – insemination is usually the best way to go and there shouldn’t be any complications. You’re young and healthy.”
I shook my head. “We’re doing it the traditional way.”
Monroe blinked at me. I was sure she was going to say something, but she just nodded and made a note.
“Well, that simplifies things, then.”
I felt self-conscious. Everyone talked about it like it was a business deal. Maybe it was, but this was still my body, and we were talking about having a baby – the traditional way – for crying out loud. But I was doing it for money.
“Thank you,
Dr. Monroe,” I said to her when I got up to leave. I wanted to escape. She had been nothing but nice, but I was starting to feel a little invaded. I left the office and walked back to the waiting room. Evan stood up when he saw me.
We walked out of the building together, Evan not saying a word until we were in the car. We’d come here in his car–a black monstrosity that was almost long enough to qualify as a limo.
He respected my privacy a lot more than I’d thought he would.
“How’d it go?” he asked when we were in the car.
I was aware of how close he was sitting, only inches of leather seat open between us. I glanced toward the driver. He was behind a tinted glass screen.
“It went okay,” I said. “She… she said I’m ovulating in a week.”
Evan smiled. “That’s very good,” he said.
I nodded. “She said so, too.”
Evan’s eyes were bright when he looked at me, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to get me naked. He wanted to stick his dick in me and start making babies. His lust was written all over his face. But I had to admit, the idea of having to sleep with him out of necessity was a turn-on for me, too.
I could think of worse ways to earn a living.
How many times had I dreamed about what it would be like if Evan pinned me down on the bed and claimed me? I wanted him to undress me, peeling my clothes back in layers until I was naked in front of him. I’d seen his body–most of it–when I’d been over at Lily’s and he’d been at the pool.
Evan had the kind of body that had been maintained for years. He trained regularly, and it showed.
And I had an idea of the size of his dick, as well. Evan was old school and unashamed of his body, which meant that a Speedo was more than enough coverage for him. He’d gotten out of the pool once after swimming laps, and I’d gotten a good look at what the material was tracing.
“So,” he said. “Are you ready to get started right away?”
I blushed. My cheeks burned bright red, and he grinned at me.