Single Dad’s Plaything: A Single Dad First Time Billionaire Romance

by Natasha Spencer

  Oh my god. Damian would be devastated. It would kill him to know someone he trusted so much has been tricking him this entire time. Lying to him and cheating him. He was Damian’s best man for Pete’s sake!

  I mean Antony was a… colleague. He was a work colleague. A COWORKER. Oh god. Please no. Please be some awful, elaborate joke at my expense.

  Please, God. Damian, jump out of the shadows. Tell me you used your stupid amounts of money from your nondescript job to hire a fake news anchor to run a fake story. Tell me it’s his twin brother and he’s been using his twin to trick everyone!

  Damian. Damian my love. Damian who would never hurt me and has such a sweet face and such a kind smile. Damian who held me in his arms and promised to protect me from the entire world.

  Damian…. The man who won’t talk about his work no matter what. Damian who got furious when I showed up at his work. Damian, who has a partner wearing the most garish, eye-catching outfit so all eyes were on him and never Damian or the ones who are doing the worst things.

  So, if there was an eyewitness they would barely remember anyone but that man.

  Damian, who gets angry when I mention work. Who says he wants to protect me from everything…

  Even himself?

  Oh god no. “Please. Please. I’ll do anything.” I begged whatever deity was out there who could hear my prayers. Who could fix this? Who could fix us? “Let it be a lie. Let my Damian be a good man who was tricked by a master manipulator.”

  The gods never did answer. But I knew I’d have to confront him about this at dinner tonight.

  I put my hand on my stomach and began to cry. What am I going to do about our child? The one that was made, at least on my part, by love.

  Chapter 15

  This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It’s been four entire days since I made the decision to confront him. I know I’m a coward. I feel like I physically can’t do it, and so I keep putting off the confrontation. Always with an excuse that is weak to even my own ears.

  The first excuse was simple, he had bought my favorite foods and movies. “I wanted to spend tonight showing you how special you are to me. Like a goddess who squanders her time on a lone mere mortal man.”

  Damn his words. Damn the tears that slipped down my cheeks at his tenderness.

  The next day, the excuse was that he depended on me for some normalcy. Who would he be without me to morally guide him?

  The day after, I don’t have a job right now and I wouldn’t be able to take care of a child on my own.

  But today… he skipped a day of work to be by my side. He says there is no face in heaven or earth that he would allow to keep us apart. That he worships me and I’m more than anyone could ever deserve.

  The words grate on me.

  “Then why aren’t you trying to be someone who deserves me?” My mind snarls.

  “He’s lying.” A small voice in my gut whispers. “And if he’s lying about this, how many other things is he lying about?”

  “Worth more than a drug dealer then?” I hissed, unable to control my words.

  All of a sudden, his entire body stiffened. He practically shook with emotion and I flinched. Never anger a werebear. That was rule one in the werebear manual. They have a hard time controlling their baser instincts, especially when they are in a state of extreme distress.

  He stopped shaking and reached out for my shoulder. I know, intellectually, that he wouldn’t hurt me. That didn’t stop me from cringing away, snubbing his touch.

  The look on his face hurt me. It cut deep. The way his face was twisted in this look of pure… pain. He looked like it was killing him to be so far away from me. Like he needed me.

  I almost came to him. My first instinct was to comfort my soul mate. The man who worshiped me like the goddess I know I’m not. The man who is sweet and kind and thoughtful and… does horrible things for a living.

  “Yes.” His voice was sad. “I never wanted you to find out. I never wanted anyone to find out about you. You are so kind and soft, I never wanted you to be in danger. There are so many things in this world that could hurt you. That would hurt you just to do so. I should’ve never put myself in a position where one of those things could be me.”

  His words were so soft and kind. They flowed off his tongue like honey, sweet and laid on thick.

  But like honey, they merely sweetened the pot and I knew it. I knew he wanted me to stay with him, and I knew I couldn’t. Staying is not safe for me. It’s not healthy for me. It’s not right for me. And yet… yet I knew every cell in my body was screaming at me not to leave him.

  “Am I not good enough. Is all of this not good enough! What do you need? What must I do to make things good enough for you? How can you hurt people the way you do? Don't you understand you are ruining lives? Don’t you even care? How can you even do this without your skin crawling?” The words spilled from my lips faster than I could censor them, or even think of them. My mouth was running but my mind wasn’t catching up. “What kind of girl do you take me for? Some dumb airhead who would go along with anything just to keep her man? Well, newsflash! I don’t need you. I’ve never needed you. Our child would be better without you and so would-”

  “Then. Go.” It was stated harshly, his eyes narrowing at me. I didn’t know his voice could sound like that. It was harsh enough to hurt. But what really twisted the knife in was his bloodshot eyes, glazed over with tears. Those beautiful sapphires’ that twinkled with mirth were darkened with sadness and perceived betrayal. His broad shoulders were slumped and I saw his lower lip trembling. “I don’t need you.”

  It was a lie. And looking at him right now, anyone can see how much he is hurting. He looked like a helpless little kid who didn’t know what to do, how to make things right again. The epiphany I came to, was that’s exactly what he is. He just wants to protect and provide for the people he loves, that’s basically coded into a werebear’s DNA, and now he has to face the reality that he can’t. That he can’t protect me. Not the way I will accept being protected.

  Not at the cost of other people’s livelihood. Not with money tainted. Not with a clientele who are addicted and unable to control themselves.

  “Go on already!” His voice cracked as he forced himself to keep the tears away. “Pack up your things and go. I don’t need you. I only married you because of the baby. There is no other reason I would ever want to marry you.”

  The words were harsh, but they were from a place of extreme hurt.

  Every step away from him I remembered something else I couldn’t block from my mind about him.

  How soft his smile is when he thinks I can’t see it. The genuine laughter he makes when we are watching some dumb TV show and he hears a pun that he appreciates. His snicker as he repeats the pun to me later and I glare at him. The way he supports my art because in his words “you were born to create. And the world needs more people like you.”.

  Each step away from him made my heart heavier in my chest. Like a lead weight pulling me down. I know we aren’t good together. What we have isn’t safe. What we have is too intense. It could pull me deep in and spit me out because I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand it.

  His love is so intense. And, deep down, I know my love is just as intense. I couldn’t leave him. No matter what I might say or do. I promised to be with him in the good times and the bad. I just… I have to convince him to stay out of the bad times from now on. Not just for him. But for my sake as well. I need to make this a better world for our son or our daughter to grow up in.

  A better world where we can be together. Where we can be happy and not have to look behind our shoulders for the big bad wolf to come and ruin everything that the two of us made together. Everything beautiful and special.

  When I returned to him, I saw his face pressed into a pillow as he cried. He cried for me because he loves me so deeply. Because he knows he needs me.

  I used to think of the two of us together like a synced mixtape
. And I just realized something, he’s been putting his everything into jiving with my worldview. Maybe I should put a little effort into staying with his.

  “Damian.” He stopped crying at the sound of my soft voice.

  He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands roughly. “Is there something you need before you leave?” His voice was raspy and filled with his hurt. Yet still, that same tenderness I fell in love with all those months was right there.

  My heart broke for him a little bit more.

  How could I ever think I could leave this man?

  I threw my arms around him. “Damian. Damian. Damian.” I mumbled against his chest. “I love you. I love you too much to leave you. I know I should. But I can’t. Please, take me back. We can work this out! I’m sure of it.”

  “How?” His voice was vulnerable as he asked the question, his arms wrapping around me… not affectionately. He held me possessively. As if he was afraid if his arms left me for even a moment, I will be gone. “How can you stand to look at me, knowing the truth?”

  I actually laughed at that. The laugh was harsh, tears filling my eyes. No wonder he always goes on and on about how amazing I am. How perfect and fascinating I am and how in awe of me he is. He doesn’t see himself as worthy of my love.

  How wrong can one person be?

  “Compromise.” I breathed, my voice cracking and raspy. “Like every other problem in a relationship. We’ll get through this. Together. I promise.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Right. Like this is just a normal relationship problem.” It was sarcastic and rude, and the arch of his eyebrows was infuriating.

  “Well, every relationship has its own problems. Even Lola knows that.” I rubbed my belly affectionately. I loved her so much, even if she was a pain in my ass and every other part of my body right now.

  He snorted with laughter. “Why are you so sure our child is a girl? And even if she was a girl… Lola? Really?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the name Lola!” I snapped. “What would you name her?”

  “Serenity. Because she and her mother bring me a peace the likes of which I never truly considered I could ever achieve.” He declared without a second of hesitation.

  “…” I blushed a dark red. This smooth asshole knows exactly what he was doing. God damn it.

  “Besides,” He said airily, knowing I wouldn’t be able to reply. “It’s going be a boy. He will be beautiful and his name will be Damian Holt the Second.” He said it as if it brokered no argument.

  I snorted. “Nope.”

  “Nope, what?” He pouted.

  “It’s not a boy, first of all.” I declared as if I was sure. I didn’t ask for the sex during my ultrasound. “Secondly, and most importantly, that is the worst name I have ever heard.”

  He gasped in pseudo-offense. “How dare you. My name is beautiful.”

  Snickering, I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “Real mature.” He teased playfully. “And what makes you so sure it’s a girl in the first place?”

  “Call it woman’s intuition.” I declared.

  “I’m just going to call it bullshit.” He snarked back.

  I scowled at him and this dumb argument continued on. All I could think of was, this is what home is like.

  My home.

  Our home.

  Chapter 16: Epilogue

  It has been almost three years since that fateful day when I went against my better judgment and followed my heart. Hell, I guess that’s what I’ve been doing my entire life.

  If I didn’t always go after what I wanted despite the consequences, I would never have met Damian. The greatest man I’ve ever known. And I would never have given birth to the most beautiful thing in the world, my son, Jonathan. He was two, and the smartest little monster I’ve ever seen.

  That’s right, it was a little boy. I just remember exactly how smug Damian was for the next six months after Jonathan’s birth. Though that could be from how happy he is to have his family than being right. He does love being right. He still brings it up every single time we have the slightest argument.

  That he was right and I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy instead of a beautiful baby girl. Jonathan was a name picked on a whim. Especially because I could not allow our son to be named Damian the Second.

  He already takes after his father way too much.

  Little spoiled brat already read his own bedtime stories and whined whenever he didn’t get his way. To be fair, that’s almost entirely my own fault. I just want my baby to be happy all the time. The happiest life anyone could offer him. That’s all I wanted for him. I have this bad habit of always giving him what he wants while Damian tries to be the stern father. Keyword right there is tried. Damian isn’t great at saying no to him either.

  He blames me. Says it’s my puppy dog eyes that he inherited.

  Nobody could really say no to him. He has his father’s twinkling eyes – though his were more periwinkle than sapphire- and an unruly mop of untamable black hair. Shiny raven locks that seemed to fall haphazardly yet beautifully. He also somehow possessed charming smile and the sweetest little voice I’ve ever heard.

  “Our son is asleep.” My husband’s sultry voice purred in my ear, making shivers crawl up my back. I contented myself with the fact that nobody could resist him. It isn’t just me. I’m not just weak willed.

  Don’t look at me like that! I’m not!

  “You didn’t let me kiss him goodnight.” I tried to seem upset, ignoring the bright pink hue to my cheeks, and hoping he did too as he began to nibble and suck on the sensitive shell of my ear.

  The puffs of breath that hit my ear from his snicker told me that he was not oblivious to my reaction to him and he was enjoying this. This prick. “I’m so sorry, My Love.” His tone told me that he was actually not sorry at all if I didn’t get it from the snicker or his smarmy grin. That bastard. “I have something else you can kiss goodnight if you wish?”

  My head snapped in his direction so quickly I could practically hear it protest. Sure enough, his pink lips were curled into a perverse grin that made me feel dirty. Well, dirtier. He wriggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

  “Naughty boy.” I played along, sending him an answering smirk.

  “Are you going to punish me?” His lip stuck out in a pout, but I could just tell he loved the idea. He wanted me to punish him. His eyes were lit up in intrigue and he gave me this sultry smirk.

  “Take your queen to the bedroom,” I ordered him, watching as his eyes lit up with mirth as he picked me up bridal-style.

  “Your wish is my command, My Lady.” He purred, and I reveled in the gentle way he held me. In the soothing tone of his voice, deep and yet, still melodic. The pet name was flattering, and it was somehow the least attractive part of his statement.

  So, he’s like… a sex genie now? I’m completely down with that. There’s nothing about that idea that I’m against.

  He carried me to our bedroom and deposited me on the bed. It’s so much better now. He gave up a life of crime for me. Not that… not that what he’s doing is not morally dubious. But it doesn’t put us in direct sight of the cops and we are not in trouble. After all, blood diamonds aren’t a concept people concern themselves with too much.

  If trading is a drug lord for being a… diamond lord? If it keeps our family safe, I’ve found that I don’t care what happens. I can’t stay away from Damian; he is too big a part of my life.

  I don’t remember how I existed without the ball of passion and beauty that sparks to life behind my eyelids every time I think of him, but I doubt I’ll be able to exist without it. Even if we were poor, old, and ugly, I would still want him more than anything else.

  He laid me down on the bed. “I want to be in control today!” I practically shouted it, before blushing at how juvenile the tone I used was. He clearly noticed from the way the side of his lip quirked up in bemusement.

  He was always in control. I’ve never seen him the way he
gets me. Delirious with pleasure. Possessive? Sure. Crazy, even? Yup. But like this? When all I wanted was more, more, more. I don’t know if he’s ever gotten there before, and I can’t deny that I wanted it. More than anything else I’ve ever wanted.

  I wanted to see his face twist with pleasure. Hear his voice as he whimpers his way to a climax as I pull him away from the edge several times. See him sob with pleasure as he finally gets to his release.

  I’ve never even got to taste his cock. No matter how much I begged him to let me do it.

  He didn’t see how I could get pleasure from the act and he refused for us to do anything together in which my pleasure wasn’t placed above all else.

  “As you wish, beloved.” Damian purred in my ear, and I shivered in anticipation as he laid back on the bed, relinquishing control to me. “Your wish is my command.”

  All of a sudden, I was unsure of what to do. He always pushed everything forwards, made sure we both felt good. Took care of it, like everything else, so I didn’t have to do it myself.

  That was until I decided to remove his clothes and show his beautiful skin. There were some scars on his beautiful bronze skin. I brushed a kiss over every single one. I knew some of the stories, others, I was too afraid to ask where he got them. They were too unique, too severe, and I feared to know exactly what happened to the kind man I love.

  His breath caught in his throat and he let out a soft whine. Oh god. That is the most erotic noise I have ever heard. His body trembled more and more as I kissed my way down his defined chest. Such delicious muscles. Perfection personified, really.

  I toyed with the elastic of his pants, enjoying the sight of his face trying to stay calm as his beautiful cheeks were tinted a soft pink. His cock was hard and pressed against his pants. There was a visible wet spot.

  “Clarissa.” He finally whined and I almost screamed. His voice, whining my name. That is just the greatest sound I have ever encountered in my life. I needed to hear it more often.

  I slowly removed his pants, smirking at the sight of his uncovered member. It was so big. A beautiful bronze color and I noticed for the first time that he did shave. I was almost drooling at the thought of having it in my mouth. Of being able to stimulate him the way he did to me.