His Baby to Keep: A Forbidden Romance

by Katie Ford

  So in a panic, I fled with my make-up case in hand. It wasn't until afterwards that I realized that by leaving, I’d made things even worse - it’s customary for the make-up artist to hang around during the shoot for touch-ups. Now I’d really blown it.

  But it was too late now. I couldn’t go back. I got back home and for the second time in 24 hours, curled up on the sofa with a tub of ice-cream and a girly movie. Only this time I couldn’t focus on the story or characters. Instead, all I thought about was my own relationship problems, and the identical twins that I just got it on with, one right after another. Holy cow. Overwhelmed, I gave up trying to watch and flipped the TV off before heading to bed, exhausted and confused.

  A sound jolts me from my sleep. I sit up, blinking blindly before fumbling for my phone. Oh shit, it’s Kim, my boss at LOLA, the creative agency that employs me.

  “Well, done!” she says brightly into my ear. For a moment I’m confused.

  “What for?” I ask stupidly.

  “Dylan Masterson! The CEO of Karmax!” she explains happily. Holy shit - is she congratulating me for fucking Dylan? Oh god, oh god. This is so twisted. What do I do now?

  “Um,” I murmur, not knowing what to say. But Kim cuts me off.

  “Mr. Masterson called the office and made another appointment with you! You must have done a great job, because Karmax wants you back for another assignment today!” she squeals.

  Relief floods my chest. Oh, thank god. I didn’t fuck up. Instantly, I feel like an idiot for not realizing straight away what she meant.

  “Well done, Fiona,” Kim continues chattering. “I’m so happy with your work on this. If we get the Karmax account, can you imagine how our business will grow? Our brand?” She's basically shrieking now, but I’m unable to respond. “Okay, you’ve clearly haven’t had your coffee yet, but get some joe and then get your ass over to Karmax! I’ll send you the deets,” she chirps. And with a click, my manager hangs up.

  I have no idea what to make of this. Does Dylan want to see me again? It can’t be. He’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and I’m a lowly make-up artist. But what other explanation is there? Does he really need his make-up done again? That seems unlikely.

  So I pack my bag slowly, confused and unsure. On the one hand, I’m excited to see the alpha billionaire. But on the other, I had sex with his twin just days ago. Do I tell him? Do I confess, or do I keep it a secret? Plus, what does Dylan think of me after our chance encounter? What kind of girl gives herself up to an older man she’s only just met?

  Well, the voice in my head speaks, he was a willing participant too.

  But it’s different for him – Mr. Masterson’s the incredibly hot, charismatic billionaire CEO of a huge corporation. He can do whatever he wants and get away with it, whereas I can’t get away with anything. Oh god, what do I do?

  As I drive to the Karmax office, my thoughts swirl. With my stomach in knots, I decide the best course of action is to be professional. There’s probably a team there of photographers and lighting assistants, not to mention his assistant. So taking a deep breath, I brace myself. Be professional, the words chime in my mind. This is a job, nothing else.

  But when I arrive at Dylan’s building, his assistant shows me directly into his office. There’s no one there. No photographers, no lighting team, and not even Dylan himself. His big chair sits empty behind a hulking granite desk with floor-to-ceiling views of the Hudson River spread out behind. I turn to his assistant with a puzzled expression.

  “Mr. Masterson will be here shortly,” he assures me before scurrying away. Oh god. I feel silly now, carrying my make-up kit when there’s no sign of a meeting, but oh well. It always pays to be prepared.

  Hurriedly I straighten my tight, high-waisted pencil skirt that hugs my wide hips and tapers at the waist. And I sassily unbutton the top of my shirt a little more just to get some air. It feels like all the oxygen in the room has disappeared, making it hard to breathe. I smooth my hair and pinch my cheeks, hoping to look a little more alive.

  Suddenly, the door opens. Wearing an impeccable suit, Dylan steps in with a motion like quicksilver - so smooth and sure of himself. My breath stops in my throat. He closes the door and turns to smile at me with that slow, careful smile with one of the sides of his mouth higher than the other. That dimple. That sparkle in his blue eyes. That perfect jawline.

  “Hey Fiona,” he says in his deep, pleasant voice. I can’t help but answer his warm voice with an involuntary smile. I feel shy.

  “Mr. Masterson,” I say, trembling. “Good to see you again.”

  “Call me Dylan, please,” he says, that deep voice making chills down my spine.

  His hands go into his pockets as he looks at me steadily, taking me in with that penetrating blue gaze. All my nerves melt away instantly. There’s something in his smile that makes me feel safe and cared for, like whatever is about to happen is all in his control and he won’t let anything go wrong. He starts walking over to me slowly, sidestepping the leather couch and coffee table between us.

  “Thank you for coming,” he rasps in that baritone voice. The CEO is impossibly handsome, destroying my resolve to play it cool. I can’t breathe and I can’t swallow because I want him too much. He grins as if it’s easy to read my mind.

  “I apologize if you feel I’ve brought you here under false pretences,” he says, shooting a glance at the make-up kit on the floor. “The fact is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met yesterday. I had to see you again. I hope you can forgive me for the white lie,” he says sincerely.

  He wants to see me? Color rushes to my cheeks.

  “Of course,” I manage, not recognizing my own voice. “I mean, I-I don’t mind,” comes my ridiculous stammer. I don’t tell him it’s what I’d been hoping this was going to be. But since he’s being honest, I feel like I need to come clean as well. Because my secret’s too important. I can’t have sex with him again without him knowing that I used to date his twin brother! He takes another step forward and takes my hard, sending butterflies erupting in a flutter in my belly.

  “Dylan, wait,” I whisper. “I have to tell you something.” He smiles down at me encouragingly, waiting for me to go on. “I - the reason I recognized you yesterday - I mean - the person I thought you were - was your brother, Ricky,” I manage, stumbling over my words.

  Oh no, I’ve got his attention now. His smile wavers, and I see a flicker of confusion in the blue of his eyes as he stares down at me. It’s now or never. He needs to know and I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze.

  “Ricky and I used to date. For about a month. We only just broke up. In fact, we broke up the day before yesterday. The day before I met you. That’s why I was so startled to see you come into the make-up room - Ricky had mentioned once, in passing, that he had an identical twin brother, but he never told me your name or anything about you.” My words come out choppy and choked, but at least they’re out. They hang in the air between us and I have a momentary panic attack. Oh god. Is he going to throw me out of his office? What if he never wants to see me again? What if he thinks I’m a whore?

  But instead, Dylan takes my hand.

  “Oh really?” he growls with a wry smile, one eyebrow raised. “So you used to date my twin? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

  What? What does that mean? The CEO’s managed to take me by surprise. But I’m so relieved that the words are out … and the real story can begin.

  Chapter 6

  DYLAN

  The poor girl’s trembling like a leaf, her eyes wide with shock.

  “I’m sorry?” she whispers, her voice dry. “You expected this?”

  I laugh a little.

  “Well, no. I didn’t you expect to date my twin. I’m just surprised he mentioned me at all. Ricky isn’t exactly a family-oriented guy,” I say with a wry smile. “He’s into his own life, and sometimes I think he wishes he weren’t a Masterson.” I turn for a moment to grab something off my desk, a
nd when I turn back, Fiona’s beautiful, innocent face is a mask of worry and sadness. Immediately I regret turning my back on her, and right then and there I vow to never do it again for the rest of my life. Because that’s where I see this goddess - projected into the future, by my side. It’s irrational and whimsical, but anyone who knows me knows that those are not adjectives that suit me. This must be real.

  Any feeling of reproach I may have felt towards her melts away. Because yeah, I wish she’d told me before we had sex, but then again, I didn’t exactly give her a chance what with my heavy-handed ways. Plus, it’s less than twenty-four hours later, and the curvy girl is fessing up.

  She nods with tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Dylan, I - I should have told you yesterday,” she says nervously, and I can see how sincere she is. Somehow her flushed cheeks and her trembling hands make her look even more irresistible.

  “Naw, it’s my fault,” I growl. “I didn't exactly give you a chance to.” This makes her smile and avert her eyes shyly. Fiona’s huge tits are heaving with emotion, stretching the thin material of her dainty blouse, and I take the rest of her in. The high-waisted skirt she’s wearing is incredibly flattering, hugging her wide hips and pinching in at her soft belly to make her waist look smaller than I recall. I have the sudden urge to fuck her from behind as I hold her down by that small waist, letting my pelvis jiggle her huge ass cheeks as I drill her tight little hole, pushing my cock in and, out over and over again.

  My lust must be showing, because Fiona’s eyes go to my crotch and then hurriedly back up at my face - and I can see my own need reflected in her eyes. Without realizing, my cock has grown hard, outlined in the soft material of my suit trousers. I shift it uncomfortably with one hand as I keep my eyes on her, not smiling anymore, but clenching my jaw to hold myself in check. I don’t want to freak her out by listening to the beast within - clearly she's already feeling a little strange from the bizarre situation. After all, who dates one twin one day, and the other twin the next? But so be it. It’s a strange world we live in, and I’ve learned to roll with it.

  Besides, Ricky and I have never really got along despite being twins. There was always something off about that boy. Even when we were young, he always had a careless, unthinking streak.

  “Come on Dylan,” he’d wheedle. “Let’s wheel our bikes across Mrs. Brown’s yard.”

  I frowned at him. At ten, I already knew right from wrong, whereas my twin just didn’t seem to care.

  “You know we’re not supposed to,” I said. “We crushed her plants last time. Mrs. Brown was real mad and told Mom.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes with exasperation

  “Always the goody two-shoes,” he snorted before getting on his bike and flying off. “You always think you know what’s right!” he called over one shoulder, voice dwindling in the distance.

  But it wasn’t about right or wrong. It was about the deeper story. Mrs. Brown was a widow living on a fixed income, and even at ten, I knew she didn’t have much money. I sensed that the old lady depended on the vegetables she grew in her garden, and if we trampled her foodstuffs, she might not have anything to eat. So I merely shook my head and got on my bike, choosing to ignore Ricky’s taunts.

  And unfortunately, my brother never grew out of it. He was always a bad seed, and even though he has a job with our family company, it’s just a job in name. There’s no expectation for him to show up, much less do any work. Hell, it’d be disastrous if he tried to do work. I’d probably have to clean up the mess afterwards.

  So yeah, my twin draws a salary but is a standing joke at Karmax. No one expects anything of him, and maybe that’s part of the problem. No one’s ever expected anything of Ricky, and at forty, it’s probably too late for him to change.

  Knowing all this, I feel for Fiona. Given Ricky’s history, he probably didn’t treat her very well while they were dating. He’s never been kind to women, and I’ll have to be extra nice to her to make-up for my prick of a brother’s behavior. But how can a man be nice to a girl who’s so curvy and irresistible, when I only want to do filthy things to her?

  While I'm standing there focusing on holding myself back, wrestling with how to be nice and filthy to Fiona at the same time, she’s crossing the short distance in my office to me. She lets her hips roll sassily as she takes each step, cupping her huge tits, and never letting her eyes leave mine. My rock-hard cock becomes even more uncomfortable inside my trousers as it stiffens even further. Fiona seems to be taking control. And even though it’s not in my nature, I decide it’s best she calls the shots for now. Let her set the tempo. After all, this is a weird situation.

  Reaching me she presses herself up against my big form, the softness of her huge tits flattening into my torso. She stands up on her tippy toes and I incline my head until our parted lips meet, panting into each other’s mouths for the deepest, slowest kiss I’ve ever experienced. Exploring her lips, I groan in lust as I allow my hands to roam her chest, groping her tits gently. She moans softly, and again I have to hold myself back so as not to attack. It takes everything I have in my power not to grab her and bend her forward onto the couch, ripping that skirt off her, and fucking her in the hole I didn’t get to explore yesterday. The hole that’s bound to be even tighter than her pussy.

  Breaking away from my kiss, she starts lowering herself down my body to the floor and onto her knees. She's fumbling with my belt, her hands shaking with lust and urgency, and then unzips my trousers. Making me groan with anticipation, she lifts my pulsing rod from its confines, gasping at its size. Her tiny hand grips the shaft and as she gives the head of my cock a lick, I stop breathing.

  “You’re so huge, Dylan. I - I’ve never seen something this big and beautiful,” she mewls.

  I struggle with the urge to grab her by her hair and ram my cock down her throat right then and there. But Fiona seems to be of the same mind, anyway.

  She slowly slides the head of my cock past her pouting lips, letting it go all the way to the back of her throat. I can feel it pushing against her tonsils with the tip of my cock. And yet only half of my cock is in her mouth. But it doesn’t matter, because she starts sucking what she can actually fit and I forget my own name. Her soft mouth has an unexpectedly strong suction, and combined with the way she’s rolling her tongue along my shaft at the same time, I’m worried I’m going to squirt my load down her throat.

  Unable to hold myself back entirely, I cup her face with one hand, and take her hair in my hand with the other. As gently as I can, I fuck into the motion, pushing my cock further down her throat. I was expecting resistance, but she seems to love it, increasing the suction on my cock and sucking harder now. Because she’s on her knees and leaning forward, from this angle I can see her heavy tits sway back and forward as she mouths along the length of my cock. Her ass is sticking out the other way, rounded and wide, making the material of her skirt stretch over it tightly.

  I’m now so close to coming that I have to pull out, groaning. The massive length reappears from between her lips, pulsing and wet, and it’s so fucking dirty. I’ve never been this close, this fast before with a girl. Fiona’s driving me absolutely nuts.

  She looks up at me with her big brown eyes, blinking her full lashes with my cock mere inches from her pouty lips.

  “Didn’t you like it?” she asks innocently. I laugh as I help her to her feet.

  “Would you like to know how much I liked it?” I growl. She nods her head, her pout deliciously wet from sucking my cock. I can't take it easy anymore. I can’t be nice. Having had my shaft in both her tight little pussy, and now her soft, mobile mouth, I need to own her ass as well. Taking her by the hand, my cock sticking up high and hard out of my trousers, I lead her to the couch.

  “Come on baby,” I growl. “You’ve got three holes, and we’ve used two. Let’s give the last one a spin, hmmm?”

  She gasps, her cheeks coloring. But from the way those nipples harden beneath her shirt … I know Fiona
wants it.

  Chapter 7

  DYLAN

  I gently bend her over and she complies, resting her hands not on the arm rest, but on the cushion itself, making her ass stick up even more. Oh, Fiona’s up for this all right. I unzip her skirt in one fell swoop and pull it off her, exposing her wide, soft ass cheeks. She's wearing a thong with garters.

  “Holy shit,” I growl, unable to tear my eyes from the luscious sight. She’s fucking creamy everywhere, and the black lace bisecting her cheeks has me erect with lust. “What the fuck?”

  Fiona giggles a little from down by the cushions. “Let’s just say I was hoping it this would be a fun meeting,” she coos. And the combination of the soft voice and fertile body is too much. I reach down and gently touch her clit through the material of her thong, making her gasp. I get down lower and bring my face right up to where her pussy is hidden away by one tiny piece of material before pulling the fabric aside to see her soft lips, glistening with her cream for me. Above that is the tiny, coffee-colored little star of her anus. But that’s for later. Below is her clit, swollen and ready to be licked.

  I press my tongue against it and start gently licking up and down, then in circles, making her moan louder and louder as she grinds her hips in ecstasy. I beat my raging cock gently as I lick her from her clit past her juicy folds and all the way up to her ass. I let my tongue encircle her tiny brown star and her moans increase in volume.