Doctor Daddy: A Billionaire Romance

by Nicole Casey

  A hand reached beneath her to caress a full breast, my fingers finding their way under the bodice to toy with her rigid nipple as I rubbed my member between her cheeks.

  Even with the teddy, I could feel the heat pulsating from her core and I knew I didn’t have much time to continue the foreplay which I wanted to prolong.

  Without finesse, I yanked the thong center away from her middle and prodding the tip of my head against her, savoring her juiciness before plunging inside her.

  Chloe yelped out as I guided my hips fully inside her, pressing my torso against her back to restrict her movements.

  The hand which was on her breast flowed down her body to the throbbing button between her creamy thighs and together, we began to mount toward our climax.

  She began writhing beneath me and I closed my eyes, hoping that I wouldn’t cum before her, but her kitten cries and wriggling were proving to be too much, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  Streams of hot nectar flowed through me as a warm gush cover my rigid organ.

  I gripped her hip jerking upward as Chloe gasped, our orgasms meeting one another in unison.

  Exhaling slowly, I felt her relax slowly underneath me and together we eased onto the bed, a sweating pile.

  Chloe purred, rolling out to stare at me with her clear eyes, a soft smile on her full lips.

  “My, aren’t you full of vigor today,” she teased, and I laughed, my heart struggling to regain control as it thumped furiously in my chest.

  “You bring it out in me,” I replied easily, sitting up as my pulse began to steady.

  She smiled, cocking her head to the side.

  “Well I’m glad,” she said. “Sometimes I worry that you’re going to get bored of me.”

  I swallowed a smile and cast my eyes downward.

  I worry about the same thing which is why I don’t see you that often, I thought. It was embarrassing to admit that I did not see Chloe as an equal but after working with knowledgeable, educated people all day, the luscious ginger was quite a mental step down.

  I slipped off the bed and began to redress.

  “Should we try to make dinner?” I asked as I buttoned up my now wrinkled shirt. “I’m starving.”

  She nodded in agreement and I eyed her through my peripheral vision.

  “Are we going to Belladonna’s?” she asked. “I have a craving for manicotti.”

  Unexpectedly, a tingle of guilt fluttered through me and I thought of Yvette.

  She loved Italian food and every time I went to the four-star restaurant, I thought of her, wondering if she had ever tried it.

  It was one of the many things I had been meaning to ask Yve and never gotten around to doing.

  Why didn’t I take her up on drinks tonight? I suddenly wondered, a strange flush of confusion washing through me. We probably won’t have a chance to see each other socially for a long while if the Sterlings get their way. That’s why she asked me to meet her and I was too busy thinking about getting laid.

  I glanced at my watch, my brow furrowing slightly.

  It was only seven thirty. I could still call her and see if we could meet for one last night of freedom.

  “Why do you look like that?” Chloe demanded.

  “I just remembered,” I said slowly, fumbling through the recesses of my mind for an excuse. “I have to go back to the office. I have a hearing tomorrow and…”

  I trailed off, glancing at her furtively to see if she was buying it.

  The scowl on her pretty face told me that she was not happy, but I also knew she wouldn’t argue me.

  Yvette would have called me on my BS before I finished speaking, I thought affectionately but Chloe was not Yvette.

  “So no dinner then?” she asked, her mouth falling into a petulant pout.

  “Sorry, Yve, not tonight,” I replied.

  I didn’t immediately realize what I had said, and it wasn’t until Chloe’s face grew red did I see I had said something wrong.

  “Who is Yve?” she snarled, all traces of her alluring beauty dissipating into a mask of ugliness I had never seen.

  “Who?” I asked, playing dumb but my fingers were working furiously as I dressed. I sensed danger.

  “You just called me Yve. Who is she? Is she a lover?”

  I forced a laugh.

  “Did I?” I asked nonchalantly. “No, of course not. She’s another attorney at the firm. I must have our upcoming case on my mind.”

  Chloe did not look convinced but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

  “Is that why you’re rushing out of here? To meet with Yve?”

  The way she said Yvette’s name irked me, but I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

  After all, it was my fault she was angry in the first place.

  I shot her what I thought was a disarming smile, but I don’t think she saw it that way.

  “I’ll call you later,” I lied again but she folded her arms over her ample chest and turned away from me, refusing my kiss goodbye.

  I don’t think we have a future together, I thought wryly but I left her third-floor walk-up without another word.

  I wasn’t even out the front door of the building when I reached for my cell and redialed the last number I had called; Yvette’s.

  But to my chagrin, the call went directly to voicemail.

  “You have reached Yvette Viera. I am unavailable to take your call but if you leave me a detailed message after the tone, I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you.”

  At the beep, I inhaled, ready to release a smooth apology for brushing her off earlier but when I opened my mouth to speak, no words flowed forth as if something in my brain had switched off my motor skills.

  I pulled the cell away from my ear and stared at it for a long moment, an uncertainty washing through me.

  Am I calling her as a co-worker or as something else? I asked myself and the question sparked a glimmer of worry in my gut.

  I ended the call and slipped the cell back into my pocket, unlocking my Audi.

  How many times had I fantasized about being with Yvette over the past six years? When I had landed the job at Kilpatrick-Campbell, I had not foreseen the attraction I had apparently carried for Yvette since the time we had spent together as undergrads.

  She would never know but she was the reason I had called off my second engagement. I had been unable to get Yvette out of my mind in those early days.

  But I had believed those feelings had been curbed and that I only saw Yve as a friend and associate.

  Suddenly I am calling my lover by her name. You need to get your thoughts in order, I chided myself. You and Yve will never be. You have tried that, and it didn’t work, even before you were both jaded.

  I started the car and sighed, shaking my dark head.

  This Sterling case will be good for you, I told myself. It will keep you away from temptation. Don’t forget; you are exes for a reason. A really good one.

  4

  Yvette

  A cold breeze shifted through the curtains, but I didn’t move, the warmth of Draven’s body surging through me as I lay looking at his sleeping face.

  He’s not just handsome. He’s appealing, I thought and almost laughed aloud at the words.

  I sounded like a cheesy poem in my own head, but it was true; Drave wasn’t simply some pretty college boy. He had a charisma which wasn’t arrogant, an aura whose glow everyone wanted to bask within.

  Including me.

  Sometimes the hold he had on me was troubling as if I was hypnotized by him and it unnerved me.

  Romance had always played second fiddle to my school, my ambition. Sure, I was a red-blooded American woman, but had I ever envisioned that I would be watching my lover sleep while I memorized the regally handsome lines of his face?

  This was something I would envision more from Vyolet.

  He stirred slightly, and I froze, not wanting him to wake.

  I didn’t want to lose the moment of near
bliss I was experiencing, not yet.

  He moved slightly beneath the comforter, his shoulder-shrugging off the blanket to expose a well-formed bicep and I exhaled slowly.

  When I was sure he was soundly sleeping, I moved gently away from him although I thought my pounding heart might wake him.

  I have to do this, I told myself firmly. I have weighed out the pros and cons of this. I am doing the right thing.

  I found my discarded clothing on the floor near the bed and quickly got dressed, an eye on his even breathing.

  In the pale light of the moon, I paused to look at him one last time, slipping the small diamond from my ring finger and leaving it on the dresser beside the letter I had spent a painstaking week creating.

  When he woke, I would be on my way to the University of North Carolina for law school while he remained at NYU.

  I tried not to cry as I left the apartment we had shared for two years, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

  But I couldn’t stop the stream of water building in my eyes from falling down my cheeks as I fled.

  It was for the best. We just weren’t meant to be.

  I don’t know why the memory of such an immature time kept me awake that night. I can only assume that the stress of the situation was the real cause of my insomnia, but Draven was fresh on my mind.

  I had heard his voicemail from Monday night on Tuesday morning. He hadn’t said anything, but I checked the caller and realized he had left the dead air message.

  I was curious to know what he wanted but I had been out with clients all day and didn’t get a chance to talk to him about it.

  By the time I ran into him again on Wednesday, the moment had all but passed and in a small way, I was relieved that he and I had not gotten together.

  Something told me that it would have ended in something we would only regret later.

  Still, it might have been fun, you know, for old time’s sake.

  It had been a long time since I recalled that aspect of my life, thought about the feel of Draven’s hot skin against mine.

  He had always run unseasonably warm but that had worked to my advantage. I always found myself insufferably cold, especially during the frigid New York winters.

  You have been working with him for three years and never crossed a line, not even at a Christmas party. Suddenly your loins are on fire like some horny teenaged girl on prom night, I snapped at myself. Get it together. You and Draven are apart for a reason. There is no reason to open Pandora’s Box and explode that can of worms.

  Grunting at my mixed metaphor, I sat up in my dark master bedroom, wandering to the window sill to peer out toward Pierce Creek.

  My house on Pelican Circle was one of half a dozen, maintaining its quiet prestige but

  Although it was three a.m., I could still the lights from the Sea Harbor Yacht Club in the not so far distance.

  Soon, I told myself. Soon I will have a boat docked there, just like Kilpatrick and Vern Harrison. Senior partner is my next stop and then I will have my name on the door in emblazoned silver just like Kilpatrick and Campbell.

  It was a mantra I played in my mind nightly almost since the day I had passed the bar, albeit not verbatim.

  My first job had been working at the Public Defender’s office in Raleigh, but I knew instantly I was cut out for greater things.

  I had not worked like a mad woman in college to share a cubicle with two other people and be underappreciated my entire life.

  Anyway, criminal law was not where I wanted to be.

  Not that divorce law was much better. In fact, I would be willing to bet that people who divorced often went out afterward and committed some unlawful act, just to assert their lost power.

  I couldn’t imagine the helplessness of being on the wrong end of a good divorce attorney.

  And I will never have to know firsthand, I thought with a smirk.

  But in the back of my mind, a tiny voice called out to me.

  You almost married him. If he had decided to go with you then or you stayed behind, you and Draven would be married right now.

  I scowled at the unsolicited reminder.

  “Married and divorced him,” I retorted to an empty house.

  Maybe I needed to get a cat.

  I spun away from the long, rectangular windows and took a deep breath.

  Running my hair through my new, stylish bob, I willed myself to count sheep or kittens before the tangle of thoughts clogged my brain and I never got to sleep.

  I had a big day in the morning; I was meeting Ryerson Sterling for the first time.

  The circus was about to begin.

  It was raining, adding to my already sodden feel as I rushed to my Mini Cooper and climbed in.

  Overnight, the trees had lost their leaves it seemed, and I knew that winter would soon be upon us, even though Thanksgiving was just around the corner and the first day of the solstice wasn’t until the end of December.

  The first day of the solstice. My God, Maya is rubbing off on me.

  Although I had managed to block out most of what Charlotte had told me on Monday, a slight ache had remained when I realized it had been at least two weeks since I had seen my sisters and a week since I had spoken to them.

  You can pick up a phone and call too, I reminded myself.

  I grunted aloud and focused on the drive, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead.

  I tried to envision what Ryerson Sterling was like.

  Sure, I had seen pictures of him and the odd interview but what did that really tell me?

  All I truly knew was what I saw on paper.

  He was in his sixties, and attractive for an older man.

  People had compared him to Paul Newman, but I confess, the reference was a little dated for me.

  From the little I recalled, Ryerson was a soft-spoken man but not someone who could ever be mistaken for meek.

  He exuded a confidence which was not easily forgotten as if he knew things which other didn’t.

  I don’t envy Angeline Sterling. Not only is her soon-to-be ex-infallible, he has the better attorney on his side.

  Chuckling, I wasn’t entirely sure that was true but there was no need for Draven to know that I considered him a worthy adversary.

  Traffic made things more difficult through rush hour, but I made it in through the doors of Kilpatrick-Campbell on time as always.

  The first person I saw as I shook off the water from my coat in the doorway was Vern Harrison and he seemed more frazzled than ever.

  It never ceased to amaze me how he had made senior partner and charge of the junior associates.

  To me, he was in a perpetual state of chaos, his shirt wrinkled, tie always slightly askew as if he had simply slept in his clothes, rolled out of bed and started the day without any preparation.

  Albeit, the man closed clients and was a shark in the courtroom I was told.

  Still, he left a lot to be desired from a physical standpoint with his myopic brown eyes and bloodhound face.

  “Good, you’re here,” he said when he rested his bespectacled gaze on me. “Come to the conference room with me.”

  He spun without waiting to see if I was going after him and disappeared down the hallway like a frightened squirrel.

  I nodded and followed, shaking off my trench coat and handing it off to Abby who rose to accept it from me.

  She rolled her eyes slightly as if to display that Vern was overreacting, but it didn’t help my quickly tightening nerves.

  “Is Sterling here already?” I asked the receptionist and to my relief, she shook her head.

  “No,” she replied. “But I think they’re both coming today.”

  My dark brows shot up and I stared at her.

  “Both the Sterlings?” I choked, thinking about how unprepared I was for such a meeting. I hadn’t even scratched the surface of the case. Typically, I wouldn’t delve into it until after I had met the client one-on-one.

  Abby shrugged, and I stifled a g
roan, my heels clicking on the matte tiles of the lobby as I started into the west hallway toward the third-floor conference room.

  When I opened the door, I was startled to see Draven already sitting at the table with an elegant blonde.

  I didn’t need to be told it was Angeline Sterling although she did not look familiar to me.

  She almost wasn’t real with her hair sprayed blonde hair and pearl combs, sternly formulating a knot precisely at the center of her royal-looking head.

  Her lipstick was blood red and perfect, none of it having bled onto the coffee cup before her.

  She is a pearl cigarette holder and sequined evening gown away from being a sixties starlet, I thought in amazement. Eat your heart out, Grace Kelly.

  Draven glanced up at me and although I didn’t read any expression in his face, I knew him well enough to know that this meeting was as much as a shock to him as it was to me.

  “Angeline Sterling, this is Yvette Viera. She will be counsel for – “Draven started to say but she held up a gloved hand and silence him with a withering green stare.

  “I know who she is,” the socialite growled. “She handled Gerald Fowler’s divorce and his ex-wife barely gets enough a month to pay her horse trainer. I hope the same won’t happen in my case.”

  I swallowed a smile and eyed Draven who recovered quickly with a short laugh.

  “I have no idea who Mrs. Fowler’s attorney was,” he replied. “But I assure you, it wasn’t me.”

  A fusion of appreciation and annoyance fluttered through me.

  I had worked my butt off on that case and it had dragged out for eight months. I was proud that Gerald Fowler was able to keep his hard-earned money against a cheating, heartless and gold digging wife.

  It wouldn’t have mattered who her attorney had been; Amanda Fowler already got more than she was entitled to and that was against my advice.

  But if Drave thinks he can do better by Mrs. Sterling, I hope she has a better history being married to Ryerson than Amanda did being married to Gerald.

  Again I cursed myself for not having read more about them but how was I to know? I felt like I was being ambushed.