THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY (A Secret Baby Romance)

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THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY (A Secret Baby Romance) Page 31

by Mia Carson


  “I want to freshen up before I eat something,” I said, eager to make my escape.

  “Do you want me to send a tray up to your room?”

  This was bizarre. My mother was never so concerned about my wellbeing. She had never been the nurturing kind. However, as long as I could avoid eating with this company…

  “Sure.” I half shrugged and headed to my room.

  I took a long, hot shower and was considerably more relaxed when I left the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror, wearing only a towel wrapped around my waist and drying my hair, when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I said. The door opened and Dora appeared, carrying a tray with dinner, followed by Alisha. The housekeeper set the tray down. “Thank you, Dora,” I said as she left the room.

  Alisha propped herself up on my bed and smiled brightly. Obviously, Richmond was working wonders for her. “We didn’t get a chance for a proper greeting earlier, so I thought I would come up and say hi,” she simpered.

  “Hi,” I said, turning to face the mirror. I wasn’t dressed, and she wasn’t leaving.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  I looked at her image in the mirror and saw that her big, cartoon-lamb eyes were genuinely wide with concern. This took me by surprise. “I’m… okay. What about you?” I asked.

  “Don’t lie to me, Neal,” she said, standing up and walking over to me. “I know you’re not. I’ve always been able to see that in you very easily.” She put her arms around my shoulders from behind and looked at my face in the mirror.

  “It’s difficult,” I said finally. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  She began to caress my bare shoulder with her lips. Then she paused, inhaled the scent of my body, and licked the exposed skin with her tongue. Under the towel, I hardened. Alisha’s hand slipped to the front of the towel and underneath it. She stroked my cock, giving it a squeeze.

  I was harder now, properly aroused, my mind more distracted than I had been in the last forty-eight hours. Still, I felt no exhilaration or adrenaline the way I usually did when aroused. Chagrin coursed through my veins, along with a deep disgust.

  But using her as a distraction was not beneath me.

  I picked her up by the waist and stood her in front of the mirror, her back to it. With my hands, I ripped apart the little silk dress she wore. Alisha’s massive breasts tumbled out as soon as I tore off her dress. She was not wearing a bra. Her nipples were bigger and darker than Tia’s.

  Tia’s. No, not this, not her again.

  I shook my head slightly. Alisha was wearing very thin, pink lace panties. I tore them off with my teeth. Compared to Tia, Alisha was so much curvier.

  Her again. I wanted to yell. I needed to get her out of my mind. I was a playboy after all, and the only way I knew to get another woman out of my head was to fuck the next best one!

  “Turn around,” I told Alisha. She obliged, turning around to face the mirror. “Bend over,” I ordered.

  She bent over, her long blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders, touching her breasts and tickling her nipples, which had pebbled with arousal. I remembered them from my college days. As soon as I thought about college, the memory of Alisha sleeping with my friends came back to me, burning red hot. Disgust pumped harder through my veins.

  I put my hand between her legs, mercilessly opening her legs wide. I heard something resembling a hiss or a sob escape her lips, but she obliged eagerly. I opened her as wide as I could and entered her from behind, punishingly thrusting as hard as I could.

  Momentarily, as soon as I was inside her, my thoughts were distracted. In front of me, Alisha thrust backwards, jutting her ass out even more as I thrust deeper inside her. I paused and looked in the mirror in front of us. Her face was screwed up and little beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead.

  “I am going to fuck you, Alisha Banks,” I hissed. She moaned in response, and I covered her mouth with my palm. Deeper and deeper, I thrust into her until the familiar pressure began to build inside me.

  Alisha’s expression looked tired. The beads of sweat that had appeared on her forehead were running down her face and onto her breasts now. Her nipples, if possible, looked even bigger and harder than before, her breasts swollen.

  When I finally came inside her, I took a deep breath and knew that I was nowhere near done.

  I turned her around, and, as if she could read my mind, she plopped herself up on the table in front of the mirror. Drawing me closer, with her arms around my neck, she opened her legs wide and wrapped them around my waist.

  I entered her from the front this time, and she tightened her legs around me. My hands held onto her large breasts, squeezing the nipples hard between my fingers, punishing them. She held my head against her shoulder, holding on with unbelievable strength and moving with me to keep up the pace. As I moved faster, her legs tightened around me until I was lightheaded; not even a single wayward thought remained in my mind.

  Just as I was threateningly close to reaching climax, Alisha let go of me. She squirmed and crawled out of my grip to get down on her knees, her back leaning against the table for support. She took my cock, hard as a rock and throbbing, in her mouth seconds before I came.

  She stood up as I finished, resuming her place on the table in front of the mirror, her back to the mirror and her legs wrapped around my waist. She placed both of my hands firmly on her breasts and let me enter her again.

  Holding my head against her shoulder again, her fingers in my hair, she whispered in my ear, “It’s okay; it’s alright. You’re not alone.”

  Tia

  My period was two weeks late.

  I had never, ever been this late in my life… four or five days occasionally, but never a month. I was worried sick, but I did not know who to talk to or ask for advice. There had to be something I could do. The prospect of taking a pregnancy test scared me, because I knew it would only reveal the truth I was not yet ready to face.

  I could not talk to Ella because she still didn’t know I had gone out with Neal after that woefully disastrous charity dinner. Why I hadn’t told her, I didn’t know. No matter how much I tried, I could not bring myself to talk about it. I actively spent most of my time trying not to think about him. I could not remember ever being this scared in my life.

  Exactly one month and a day after I had met Neal, I woke up feeling disoriented, groggy, and terribly unwell after an afternoon nap. I had woken up in the morning and had not been able to eat anything, try as I might. I had also felt lightheaded, irritated and had not been able to focus on anything, so around noon, I laid down for a few minutes and had drifted off to sleep.

  I woke up from my nap not feeling even the slightest bit better. On the contrary, I felt much worse. The sound of the TV in the living room sounded muffled through my closed door, and the rays of the afternoon sun tried in vain to seep through the cracks in the tightly drawn curtains. The room smelled of stale cheese crackers and Chinese takeout—leftovers from last night. I had eaten in bed and hadn’t removed the dishes because I had fallen asleep right after.

  I got out of bed and opened the curtains. As sunlight streamed into my depressing room and tried to latch itself onto and brighten every surface, I felt groggy and dazed. I picked up the dishes from the floor and piled them neatly by the door, thinking I would take them out when I left the room. I was in no mood to go out and face anyone—not even Ella—just yet.

  I went to the bathroom and washed my face for a long time. Then I brushed my hair and pulled it into a tight bun. When I left the bathroom, I fetched my mom’s old yoga mat from on top of the cupboard and unrolled it on the floor in front of the window.

  I plopped down on a pillow, crossing my legs in front of me and my arms behind me and took a deep breath. I am a strong, independent woman—who would hopefully either find a good job soon or go back to school. I am calm and very much in control of myself.

  I took a deep breath and stretched forward into the down
ward dog position. See, this is already working, I thought, spreading my arms forwards. “I am fine,” I chanted under my breath, exhaling.

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I retched and threw up on the floor.

  It happened so suddenly that I was thrown completely off guard. One minute I was taking deep breaths and feeling better, and the next I was puking my guts out all over the yoga mat. I dragged myself to the toilet on my hands and knees.

  I held on to the toilet seat for at least half an hour. Once I could stand up successfully and force my legs to move, I cleaned up and escaped the bathroom. The dishes I had stacked by the door tumbled to the floor again as I opened the door.

  “Ella,” I said with all the strength I could muster as I stepped into the living room.

  “Tia, have you seen this?” Ella shrieked from the couch in front of the TV.

  The news strip on a local cable channel read Billionaire Playboy Neal Callaway to Finally Tie the Knot!

  The announcement was accompanied by a picture of Neal standing on a red carpet wearing a deep blue suit, his expression smoldering, and next to him—in an unbelievably small and form-fitting cocktail dress in a matching color, her arm in his and the smile on her face wide—stood Alisha Banks.

  “Excuse me,” I said as a fresh bout of sickness hit me. “I have to go throw up.”

  “Are you okay?” Ella said, getting up and running after me as I struggled to make it back to the bathroom before throwing up again.

  Ella sent me to bed and did not let me leave my room the rest of the day. She was positive I had the flu. I felt bad not telling her the truth. However, I wasn’t against the idea of spending the rest of the day in bed and didn’t oppose the idea of her waiting on me for the rest of the day. I would have done the same for her.

  As the day went on, my stomach churned at the mere sight of food. The soup Ella made me caused vomiting for another fifteen minutes until I rested my head on the toilet seat and went to sleep on the cold, hard floor of the bathroom.

  I woke up in the middle of the night. The bathroom was dark and cold, but a blanket was wrapped around me. I was confused for a moment; as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I slowly remembered throwing up all day. Ella must have thrown the blanket on me and possibly left me in peace in the bathroom.

  I rose slowly from the floor and exited the bathroom, the place that had felt like my prison for the last few hours. The apartment was quiet, and the street outside wasn’t buzzing with traffic either. I looked at the clock: it was two in the morning.

  In my room, on my bedside, Ella had placed a handful of pills and a glass of orange juice. I was parched and dehydrated and took a sip of the juice with my fingers crossed. My stomach didn’t instantly rumble as I swallowed it, and I quietly thanked my stars, finishing the entire glass in two gulps. I grabbed my coat and car keys and, trying to make as little noise as possible, left the apartment for a 24-hour pharmacy. I took a few deep breaths as I started my car, trying my very best to banish any unwanted thoughts along with the residual nausea. I soon got to the pharmacy, and the bored-looking clerk gave me a nod as I entered the shop. I had shopped here late at night a hundred times, on those nights—especially in the latter stages of her illness—when Mom would wake up at an odd hour with her cravings. I was, therefore, certain I would find what I was looking for—third row from the left aisle, next to the shelf of baby and adult diapers.

  As I turned the corner absentmindedly, I crashed headfirst into the man standing in my path with his back to me.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as I rubbed my head, which had smacked into a large box of Quality Street candy on the shelf.

  “Tia!” the man exclaimed, a grin on his face which emphasized his chin and put a dimple in his right cheek.

  “Oh, Will, hey!” I said, flustered yet brightening. He hugged me, and for the first time in the entire day, I actually broke into a smile.

  “What are you doing here at this hour?” he asked, concerned.

  “Oh, nothing. We were out of milk so I thought I would pick up some,” I lied easily.

  “Oh, well, it’s over there in the refrigerators.” He pointed to the opposite side of the store.

  “Um, yeah.” I had a hard time coming up with something to say. “So, how are you?”

  “Good, I’m good.” He wore his perpetual smile. However, as he got a closer look at me, his expression changed to worry. “You look really pale. Are you okay?”

  I was breaking into a sweat. “I think I’m coming down with the flu,” I told him.

  “Oh, no.” He looked even more alarmed. “If you’re here on your own, do you want me to take you home? You look like you should be in bed right now, not out shopping for milk,” he said.

  “I’m fine, Will; don’t worry.” I tried to smile. “Honestly, I’ll be back home in a few minutes.”

  “Uh, okay,” he consented, not entirely satisfied with my response but complying to my obvious reluctance to talk about my wellbeing. “So, I hope everything has been all right with you.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m making my way back to life,” I said, frowning at the response I offered.

  “If there is anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right?” he said.

  “Actually,” I said as a thought flashed through my mind, “there is something you could help me with.”

  “Great, what is it?” He beamed.

  “I’m looking for a job,” I said with some hesitation. “Anything for now, and I was wondering if there was an opening at the café?”

  His smile widened. Encouraging. “Actually,” he said, “Diaz just quit—the grumpy waitress, you know? Dad only just told me today to find someone new. Your timing couldn’t be better.”

  “That’s great!” I nearly shrieked, hugging him again. “I’ll look in tomorrow, then?”

  “Sure,” he said, pleased. He gave off good, happy vibes all the time, which I really liked.

  “I need to get home, then,” I said, looking at my phone to check the time. “Thank you so much.”

  “Pleasure is all mine. See ya tomorrow,” he said, making his way to the counter with the box of Quality Street, which was the reason I had a small lump growing on my forehead. I pretended to pull a carton of milk from the closest refrigerator and put it in a cart.

  As soon as Will disappeared through the doors and into the night, I dumped the cart and the milk where I stood and almost ran to the end of the third row on the left aisle.

  I picked up a rectangular blue box, a Clear Blue Pregnancy Test, from the shelf in front of me without looking around.

  Half an hour later, I was perched on my bathroom floor just as I had been for most of the day. My head rested in both of my hands. In front of me on the toilet seat, the blue and white stick read pregnant. I was fucked! Surprisingly, the shock that had filled me ended quickly. I couldn’t change it, so no point crying over it. I should have thought about it before I had unprotected sex with a billionaire in his personal soccer stadium. I was very much responsible for what had happened, and I wasn’t going to beat myself up about it now.

  Tia

  A few days later, I met with Will’s dad at the Moonlight Café the next day and took the waitressing job. Derrick was extremely nice to me and offered to pay me more than what he usually paid waitresses if I was having a hard time with my finances. I thanked him profusely. I needed the extra money now more than ever. Luckily, I liked the café. I had always liked it. The atmosphere was bright, warm, and cheerful, and it smelled like all of my favorite foods. This was my ultimate go-to place to ward off unnecessary thoughts; there could not be a more suitable place to work. I was assigned to Gem, the waitress in charge of teaching me the basics. Gem was an eighteen-year-old with a huge—huge—pair of breasts. Her blonde hair was cut frightfully short, and she wore a nose ring and lots of kohl and black eye shadow. Gem perpetually had gum in her mouth and a hands-free device in her ear. How she managed to be such a good waitress while loud indie music blasted continua
lly in her ear, I did not know and was too afraid to ask. She rarely spoke to anyone; however, once you got past the hardened exterior, she was actually quite pleasant, and surprisingly, we soon became good friends.

  Soon I settled into a routine at the café and made friends with everyone else, including Will. Gem was quick to let me know that when she had first started working there, she’d had a huge crush on him, but once they had slept together, she realized it was nothing more than a one-night stand. She seemed not to care and I had dismissed her story and thought nothing of it until I noticed Will paying a little more attention to me than before and coming to the restaurant during my shifts more often.

  “Hey, Tia! What’s going on?” Will smiled at me when I walked in one day.

  “Just coming in to work, like every other day,” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just checking on everything for Dad,” Will said. “You look nice today.”

  “Um, thanks,” I had replied, grabbing a writing pad to take orders on.

  “So what are you doing this weekend?” he asked in a casual tone.

  “Ella and I have plans,” I lied easily. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I obviously couldn’t date anymore. I was pregnant with another man’s baby.

  “Sure, let me know when you’re free so we can hang out.”

  “That’ll be nice,” I said, with no intentions of ever making myself available. I went on with my daily routine until that evening when my entire world—a world I had taken for granted—came to a standstill while I was getting latte for a customer. The door opened, and Alisha Banks stepped in, followed closely by Neal. I froze; the cup of coffee trembled in my hand, almost as if stirred to motion by the gust of evening wind that blew in as the door closed behind them.

  She wore leather pants with a white silk shirt and really high heels, looking as if she had just stepped out of a soap opera. He was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt and looked so handsome that the mere sight of him caused my heart to beat so hard, it felt like it might burst out of my ribcage. His hand was on the small of her back, I noticed, as the cup of coffee in my hand trembled even harder and scalding latte splashed onto the saucer.

 

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