Claiming Cinderella: A Dirty Billionaire Fairy Tale

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Claiming Cinderella: A Dirty Billionaire Fairy Tale Page 65

by Amy Brent


  “I am already a size sixteen. I am going to blow up like a whale.” The tears were falling harder as she sniffled and he slipped his arms over her legs. “I am going to be a bitch and emotional and hate myself for what I did to both of you. I am going to agonize over the next few months until I can see this baby and know…I want it to be yours so bad.” Amy’s voice shook with need, and he pressed his head into her chest and breathed her in.

  “I do too. I just know that I want to be with you right here and right now. I can’t think past this moment.” Colton told her as they both moved close together and kissed each other hungrily. “How far along are you?” He kissed her again.

  “About eight weeks,” Amy replied against his lips as he cupped her face in his hands.

  “I hear that women are horny when they’re pregnant.”

  “Fuck, yes.” Amy breathed as he scooted her back onto the bed and carefully pressed her against the pillows. “I have been getting myself off the last few weeks.”

  “Jesus,” Colton muttered as he found her lips and slid his hands up her shirt. He knew that they didn’t have to be quiet now. Colton also knew that there would be a lot to clear up in the next few days, but right now he was where he wanted to be as he tasted her sweet kiss again and felt her smooth skin. “I love you.”

  “I love you. I have never loved anybody the way that I do you,” Amy whispered as he claimed her lips in a hard kiss.

  EPILOGUE

  Amy and Colton couldn’t wait for the baby to arrive to know the truth. All three took the steps to set up a paternity test within a couple of months and Colton threw the papers in the air when he saw that it was his baby. He still felt bad for Trey and the fact that he and Amy had betrayed him. That would always bother him, but he and Trey had moved past it and worked together on the ice just fine.

  They were both spotlighted by the scouts along with a couple of other guys. Trey went to Washington and Colton was pleased to find out that he would be staying here in town and playing with the team that he had dinner with so long ago. He smiled through the draft as he glanced around at all of the up and coming players, excited about his future and not just this aspect of it.

  Amy was home in their condo with her mother as she grew close to her due date with their daughter. She claimed to be fat and ugly, but he had never found her so beautiful in his life than when she was heavy with his baby. He was also protective and spoiled her every chance that he got, and Amy told him that is why she fell more in love with him by the day.

  They hadn’t discussed marriage too seriously yet, but Colton knew the day was coming where he would propose. Hell, he might do it in the hospital room.

  When he went to meet his new coach and collect his shirt, Colton held it against him and grinned as cheers filled the room. He could feel her in the room with him as he watched the cameras flash and shook hands with the men around him.

  The future was going to be amazing.

  THE END

  IRRESISTIBLE

  EMELIA

  “See that guy over there?” my friend Tabitha asked as she nudged me in the side.

  I looked over at the guy she was not-so-subtly pointing at. “Yeah, I see him. What about him?”

  “He hasn't taken his eyes off you since we've walked in,” she said. “He's gorgeous. You should definitely go over there and talk to him.”

  I stared over at the handsome stranger Tabby was talking about. He was with a couple of other guys playing pool in the corner. On the surface, he was everything I liked in a man – tall, dark, handsome and dressed incredibly well. He looked like he was fit and took good care of himself.

  I could tell that he came from money. Dressed the way he was, his hair neatly styled, and just the way he carried himself made me pretty certain of that. His designer jeans hugged his toned, taut body, clinging deliciously to his ass every time he bent over to take his turn. But it wasn't his body that attracted me the most – though, I certainly wasn't complaining about it.

  No, what caught my attention and held it were his deep, blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. His cheekbones made me think of all the male underwear models on the cover of magazines, and I thought I could absolutely drown in the depths of those beautiful eyes.

  The urge to saunter over and strike up a conversation with the handsome stranger was strong. I usually wasn't the shrinking violet type and had never really had much of a problem striking up conversations with strangers before. But as I looked at him, a wave of hesitance and trepidation washed over me and I knew that I couldn't go over there.

  “You like him, don't you?” Tabitha cooed, playfully slapping my shoulder. “Seriously, go talk to him, Emlia. From where I stand, you've got nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain. I mean, did you see the ass on that man? Wow.”

  I looked down my drink and shrugged, the momentary feeling of bravado and the urge to go talk to him passing quickly.

  “I can't,” I said. “And you know why.”

  “You can't because of Tony? Seriously?” she asked, astonishment in her voice. “Why in the hell would you pass up on that hunk of a man because of Tony?”

  “Yeah, because of Tony,” I scoffed. “He's my fiance for Godsake.”

  “But he's an asshole. Not to mention the fact that you don't love him, Emlia,” Tabitha said. “That's only a marriage of convenience, or strategy or whatever, and we both know it. So why not let yourself have a little fun on your own time?”

  “Because my father would kill me if he found out I'd been unfaithful,” I said.

  “Why? Because men get to have all the fun? You know that Tony's already bangin' somebody else – and will be long after you're married. So why shouldn't you get to find yourself a little fun on the side?” Tabitha raised an eyebrow at me. “Go over there and talk to him. You know you want to.”

  I did want to. Tabby was right about that. Tony might have been the man I was supposed to marry and love, but honestly, there was just nothing there. Nothing between us. No spark. No chemistry – nothing at all. I wasn't attracted to him in any way, shape, or form. And no matter how many times he'd tried to sleep with me, I always found a way around it. I just couldn't fathom the idea of him putting his hands on me – not without feeling sick to my stomach.

  I knew that eventually – most likely on our wedding night – I'd have to give in to him. But for now at least, I was happy keeping my virginity intact.

  “It's more than just Tony. I'm not that kind of girl, Tabitha,” I muttered. “You know that.”

  “I'm not saying you have to fuck him, geez. But what could a conversation hurt?” she said. “Though if I'm being honest, I most certainly would. I'd be all over that guy like white on rice, baby.”

  I laughed, turning my attention back to Tabitha. I couldn't keep staring at the sexy man in the tight jeans. I feared that if did, I might give in and do something stupid. Something I might come to regret later. Like actually talk to him – because where would we go from there? And I couldn't do that. My dad had made it clear that no matter what, I had to behave myself. I had to make this marriage happen. He said it would be the best thing for the family – and I always had to put the family first. At least, in his opinion.

  I sighed and took a sip of my drink, trying to wash away the images of the man from my mind. Tabitha though, continued to stare at him without the slightest trace of shame.

  “If you like him so much, why don't you talk to him, Tabby? You're a free agent. It's not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

  It was meant to be a joke, but as soon as I said it, I saw the look of hurt in her eyes and instantly regretted saying anything at all.

  “Sorry, I didn't – ”

  “No, we can't all be as blessed as you, Emilia,” Tabitha said, rolling her eyes, the hurt in her eyes replaced by anger.

  I couldn't believe she'd said that. She knew exactly how I felt about being married off to Tony. Knew how I felt about him – or how I didn't feel about him.

  “Bless
ed?” I snapped. “You call being forced into a marriage that I want no part of, with a man I can't be in the same room with without feeling sick to my stomach being 'blessed'?”

  “Aww come on, Tony's not so bad,” she said. “He's nice on the eyes – for an older man. And he's loaded.You're not going to want for anything, Emilia. Your every want, whim, and desire is going to be fulfilled. It could be worse.”

  Could be worse. I wanted to scream. It didn't seem so bad to her because it wasn't Tabitha being forced to marry a man almost the same age as her father. Maybe some people could happily marry a man they didn't love or care for, maybe some women only wanted financial security and nice things, but I wasn't one of those women.

  Growing up, I knew my father would likely have a say in who I married. All family decisions ran through my father – but I'd always assumed he'd want me to be happy. Would let me choose the man I was going to spend my life with. Little did I know, I was not only not going to be able to pick the man I'd marry, but that my marriage would be nothing more than a bargaining chip in one of his goddamn business deals.

  My marriage had nothing to do with love and everything to do with uniting two rival families together at last. It was a business transaction contingent on me marrying some man I barely knew and didn't even love.

  Tabitha didn't get it. No matter how many times she said she understood how I felt, she never would. It wasn't her fault, but I wished she'd stop trying to make this all seem okay to me. She wasn't involved in this life like I was. She more or less got to stay above the fray while still enjoying some of the perks of membership.

  Tabitha was part of our family – distantly – meaning, she had freedoms I'd never get to enjoy. And to her, it was all about the money. All about enjoying the finer things in life. She got to enjoy those things without having to worry about something like being married off to a stranger because my family had all the money and wealth and power.

  She thought because I never wanted for anything, my life was ideal, and yet – what I wouldn't give for the freedom to be able to walk over to the blue-eyed stranger and strike up a conversation with him. Like any normal girl would.

  Like Tabitha could.

  “I'll be right back,” I said, and before Tabitha could insinuate that I was heading over to flirt, I cut her off with a glare and added, “I'm just going to the bathroom, that's all.”

  To get to the bathroom though, I'd have to walk back behind the pool tables – which made things a little awkward. Which meand that I'd have to walk by the guy who was staring at me – the guy Tabitha was helpfully suggesting I hook up with.

  As I neared the pool tables, I looked back at Tabitha who gave me a thumbs up and a pantomimed the motion for giving a blow job. And even though I tried not to laugh at her – because that would only encourage her – I couldn't help it. She was my best friend after all – for better or worse. I couldn't contain my grin and shook my head as I walked toward the bathroom, making sure to not look at the man as I passed him by. I kept my eyes straight ahead and I walked fast, making it to my destination without so much as a catcall, an offer to buy me a beer, or even a polite hello. Which was a relief – and simultaneously, a bit disappointing.

  Stepping inside the restroom, I locked the door behind me and took a deep breath as I leaned against the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. I didn't really need to use the toilet, I just needed to step away from Tabitha and clear my head. I loved my best friend to bits, but this whole thing with Tony was starting to cause a little friction between us that had never existed before. She thought I was lucky as hell to be getting a man as loaded as he was. I disagreed. Vehemently. It was my life and I didn't want this for myself.

  But I was being required to take one for the team. Or as my dad always said, I was being required to “do it for the family.”

  Reaching into my purse, I pulled out some lipstick and touched up my makeup. Not that I needed to make myself look extra sexy. I was there for a drink with my friend, not to impress anybody – okay, so maybe I liked the attention some guys lavished on me. I could be a little vain, I could admit that. And it felt good, flattering, to have men pay attention to me. I knew it wouldn't go anywhere, but I liked the attention from the guy, shoot me.

  Taking another deep breath, I decided to stop staring at my reflection and to get back out to the table with Tabitha and finish my drink. With any luck, I though I could slip out sooner rather than later. Not that I didn't enjoy our little girl's nights out together, but things between us had changed a lot lately and I sometimes had a hard time being around her. Especially when she went on and on about how great my life was. And all things considered, being tied down to a man I didn't love didn't help matters in my own mind either.

  Someone banged on the door, startling me and nearly dropped my lipstick.

  “Emelia? You still in there? Hurry up, I have to piss,” Tabitha said.

  That's my best friend for ya – classy to the last. I dropped my lipstick back into my purse, turned and unlocked the door, switching places with Tabitha. She winked at me as she shut me out, quickly closing and locking the door. And it took me a moment to figure out why she was in such a hurry. Surely, she didn't have to go that badly. But as soon as I turned around to walk back to the table, I found myself face-to-face with the blue-eyed stranger.

  “Emilia?” he said, a smile forming on this luscious lips.

  He had an accent, but what sort of accent it was didn't register, not at first. British? Scottish? I didn't care because it sounded like pure honey falling from his lips when he spoke – especially when he said my name.

  “Emilia,” he repeated. “What a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling the color rise in my cheeks.

  He was standing in front of me, making it hard to sneak past. I was desperate to get out of there and be away from him. There was a feeling like static electricity between us and our bodies were so close together in the confined space, I was terrified he was going to hear my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

  “Uhhh,” I looked around, trying to find any possible route of escape, my body tingling and a fire erupting between my thighs. I had to get out of there. Quickly. “I really can't do this. See, I'm engaged to be married and – ”

  “I know that,” he said, taking a long pull from his beer. “I know all about you Emilia Antonelli. All about you. In fact, I think I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

  And that was the last thing I remembered before the world went dark.

  DEACON

  Chloroform. I hated to do that to a fine piece of ass like her, but it had to be done. It was the cleanest, most efficient method I knew to get her out of there. The last thing I could afford was to not chlorofom her and have some huge scene unfold in front of all the witnesses in the bar. I knew that to grab her, we had to act fast, while she was separated from her friend.

  Thankfully, the perfect opportunity had finally presented itself.

  Because I believed in planning meticulously, we'd already cleared out a path to the car through a back door. Everything was set and Emilia had finally given us the chance to put our plan into motion.

  She lay limp in my arms and I needed to get her out of there before anybody became suspicious. A couple of people were nearby, looking at us with curiosity, rather than concern. So, I flashed them my most charming smile and shrugged my shoulders.

  “She had too much to drink, I'm afraid. Looks like the party's over early,” I said to the onlookers who laughed and returned to their conversation.

  We took Emilia out the back door and loaded her into the van we had waiting. We slid her in and slammed the door. Smooth as butter. Like I said, I planned meticulously and left nothing to chance.

  “Damn. Who knew old man Antonelli had a fine ass daughter,” Sean said, climbing into the back of the van with her.

  “Don't you fucking lay a hand on her,” I said. “She can
't be harmed. Not a hair on her bloody head. That's the deal, alright?”

  “Not even a hand, Deacon? Really?” Sean mocked. “Meaning I can't grope her tit or – ”

  “Don't be a fuckin' pervert, Sean. She's out cold for fuck's sake. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

  “That's about the only way he gets to touch a tit,” Colin said, climbing in and getting behind the wheel.

  “Shut your dirty fucking mouth, Colin.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you two, shut the fuck up,” I snapped. “I almost envy Emilia here. All knocked out like she is, at least she can't hear you bickering like a couple a old women.”

  Both men shut their traps without another word from me. Colin gave me an apologetic look and a slight shrug, but I was too busy keeping an eye on Sean in the back to really care. Kidnapping, murder, hell, even burglary – all fine with me. It was part of the job and I was very good at my job. A real professional.

  But I drew the line at groping up an innocent girl when she was out cold. It was wrong on so many levels and I wouldn't tolerate that sort of shit. I was guilty of some heinous shit in my day, but I had to draw the line somewhere. That shit was not okay with me.

  As I stared back at Sean, who was still practically drooling on the girl, I couldn't help but look down at Emilia. Sean was right about one thing – I had no idea she was as beautiful as she was. Rich, black hair contrasted with her soft, pale skin. She was a tiny little thing with delicate, feminine curves and had some amazingly perky breasts – which she showed off in a tight red dress.

  Even from where I was sitting, I could see her ample cleavage and I had to admit, it was hard not to stare. I could see why Sean wanted to cop a feel – they were almost too perfect to be real. But then I looked at that sweet, angelic face and there was no way I was willing to do anything to abuse her – or let anybody else to it either.

 

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