Boardroom Bride: A Fake Fiance Secret Pregnancy Romance

by Alexis Angel

  And all I can do is scream for them, over and over again as my fists pound against Chase’s broad, muscled shoulders, and Eric’s hands wrap around my throat: “YES! YES!!!!!! OH MY GOD! CHASE! ERIC! YESYESYESYESYES!”

  They flood both my holes with cum until it’s gushing out of me and running down my thighs. And once they pull out, lowering me to the ground once more and passing me back and forth for kiss after kiss, I drop to my knees.

  I drop to my knees like a slutty fucking whore and suck their cocks clean, licking up every last bit of cum.

  It’s only then—once I’ve got every fucking drop of their perfect, delicious cum on my tongue and down my throat—that I think to see if that woman is still watching.

  She’s not, as it turns out. But she is back on the exercise bike, peddling her fucking heart out.

  When our eyes meet again, I shoot her a smile—despite the two cocks still pressed against my lips.

  She shoots me one back. We don’t need words to communicate with each other—those grins say the exact same thing:

  You go, girl.

  Kara

  Eric drives his Tesla a little too fast, and Chase can’t seem to keep his hands off me as they give me a ride home.

  The trunk and the back seat of the car are filled to capacity with all twelve flavors of Protein Plus shakes. When I told them I wanted as much of their yummy, cummy protein shakes as I could drink, they seriously fucking listened.

  Part of me thinks that they just get off on knowing that even when they’re not around, I’ll be guzzling their cum. But then again, it kind of turns me on, too, so I’m not going to complain about my lifetime supply.

  “You’ve got the prettiest fuckin’ shoulders, girl,” Chase purrs, pressing a kiss onto one of my shoulder blades. Since the car is filled to the brim with Protein Plus, there was only one place left for me to sit: on Chase’s lap in the passenger seat.

  “Glad you like them,” I preen. I’m so fucking amped from all the orgasms they’ve given me that I’m suddenly just as cocky as they are―which could be dangerous, I guess, if I wasn’t enjoying it so much.

  “Good enough to eat,” Chase growls.

  “Ow!” I yelp, then I giggle as he bites into my shoulder like a fucking animal or something.

  “Don’t make me turn this car around,” Eric warns us.

  As his hand finds my thigh, I can’t imagine that he’s too serious about that. Probably, he’s just jealous he can’t be nibbling on my shoulders, too.

  ...unless he means, like, he’s going to turn the car around and take me back to his place for more hot fucking.

  Actually, I bet that’s exactly what he means.

  Oh, god. I’m way in over my head with these men. And honestly, babe…I kind of fucking love it. There’s no better place to be in all the world—no place I would rather be.

  Especially considering the way Chase’s dick is pressing against my ass as Eric hits a pothole—deliberately, too, I bet.

  Fuck. These men are insatiable, and it’s fucking catching, too.

  This is the most attention I’ve gotten from men in years. Maybe like…ever.

  Sure, I had my fair share of admirers when I was modeling, but I always had this nagging fucking feeling that they just had some kind of big girl fetish, y’know?

  Some of the creepy-ass messages I used to get were, “Kara, baby, sit on my face and suffocate me with that fat ass,” and “Hey, sweetheart, wanna go whaling?”

  I could never tell if they were hitting on me or insulting me.

  Probably, it was both.

  But all of that’s gone now, and instead, I’m riding an expensive car with two super-buff billionaire fitness moguls who like to pump me full of their candy cum.

  Those creepy dudes on the internet are probably still in their mommies’ basements, rubbing their Cheeto-dust fingers all over their tiny little pricks.

  We pull up to my apartment, and I consider inviting them inside. Like, I’m not saying that I’m in desperate need of another taste of their dicks right now or anything…

  But then Eric hits the pothole right in front of the building, and Chase twists my nipple beneath my tank top.

  On second thought, that’s exactly what I need.

  But then I remember—Holly-Anne. She already gave me enough shit about fucking the dudes at the gym the last time I came back all post-orgasmic and glowy.

  While I’m hungry for a round two with Chase and Eric, I’m not exactly looking forward to a round two of horny story time with Holly-Anne right now.

  Eric grabs the door for me, and Chase pops our seat belt off. With a thrust of his hips, he has me tumbling out of the car and right into Eric’s arms.

  “Look at you.” I giggle. “Always there to catch me when I fall.”

  “For a pretty thing like you, I always will be,” Eric says, stealing another kiss. He tastes amazing—of fucking course he does. Everything about these guys is too delicious to be real.

  “It’s a privilege, really,” Chase says.

  Eric pushes me back into Chase’s arms, and then I’m spinning. Chase cups my jaw in his big, calloused hand as he steals a kiss of his own.

  Oh, they’re real, alright. I just can’t let Holly-Anne see us like this, or else I’ll never hear the fucking end of it.

  But before I can inform them that I’ll carry the protein shakes in by myself, they’ve already got the trunk popped open and half a dozen boxes in each of their arms.

  “Oh, guys, no,” I protest. “It’s okay. I’ll carry them in. You don’t need to—”

  The fuckers just laugh at me, though.

  “They’re heavy boxes, Kara,” Chase tells me.

  “You’re not quite on our level when it comes to heavy lifting,” Eric adds with a wink. “Yet.”

  I’m about to argue—after all, their twelve-inch dicks are pretty fucking heavy, and I lifted those just fine—but then I try to pick up a box of my own, and I can’t even get it up out of the trunk.

  “Okay,” I relent. “But only because you’re so hot.”

  “Did you hear that, man?” Chase chuckles.

  “A supermodel thinks we’re hot.” Eric laughs. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that…”

  I roll my eyes, jogging ahead of them so I can unlock the front door. “You’re already billionaires. You don’t fucking need it.”

  When I pop the front door open, I’m mortified—but not exactly surprised.

  “HELL YEAH!” Holly-Anne roars, a slice of pizza in one hand and the hair of the pizza delivery guy clutched in the other. He’s humming his ABCs between her legs, and from the looks of things, she’s wearing his delivery cap. “EAT MY PUSS, BABY! GO ON, EAT IT—YEAH, BABE, JUST LIKE—oh, hey Kare-bear!”

  Of course, Chase and Eric pile in behind me before I can warn them that my sort-of roommate is getting head in our living room.

  “You must be Holly-Anne,” Eric says, shooting her his shiniest billion-dollar smile.

  “Huh. I didn’t know Pizza World did oral sex on delivery,” Chase says with an amused little snort.

  “Oh, god. Sorry, guys. This is…I’m not even going to pretend it’s unusual,” I say, burying my face in my hands. “Just put the boxes over here.”

  While Holly-Anne gives the pizza dude his tip and Lucy tries to get the pizza box open, Chase and Eric move all of the boxes of Protein Plus shakes into the kitchen.

  “Are those your new fuck buddies?” Holly-Anne shouts from the living room.

  “I prefer the term business partners!” I yell back, giggling.

  “Does that mean you’ll be our girl?” Eric asks, putting down the last load of boxes. His muscles are bulging with exertion—but he carried those things like they weighed nothing at all.

  My heart skips a fucking beat at his phrasing—our girl. Fuck, after the night they’ve given me, I want to be their fucking wife—but of course, that’s not what he means.

  “I’m thinking about it,” I say with a
coy smile. “But you’ve made a very convincing case.”

  “Get back to us soon.” Chase grabs me around the waist and pulls me in for a kiss goodbye. It’s long and lingering and involves a lot of tongue wrestling.

  After a kiss like that, I’m tempted again to ask them to stay the night.

  “Damn,” Holly-Anne says, meandering into the kitchen with Lucy in tow. “How do I get into this business?”

  “Call us,” Eric says, laying a kiss of his own on my lips.

  I’ve got to hand it to them—they even give Lucy a quick rub behind the ears before they head out.

  Twelve-inch dicks, insatiable libidos, sexy fucking mouths…and they like cats.

  I’m on cloud fucking nine right now, and not even Holly-Anne’s teasing can bring me down.

  “So…what was all that about?” Holly-Anne asks. The smile on her face is a mile wide, and I know she doesn’t believe this whole business partner thing for a second.

  “They want me to work for them, I guess,” I say, moving to the cabinet to get Lucy a bowl of cat food before she eats Holly-Anne’s entire deep dish and ends up with pizza farts.

  “You guess?” Holly-Anne repeats. “From the looks of things, you’re doing plenty of work for them already, girl. These are the guys from the shower the other night, right?”

  “Yep.” I push the bowl of cat food at Lucy, and she looks at me like she’d rather eat the pizza. “They, uh…they gave me another workout.”

  “I bet they did.” Holly-Anne nudges one of the boxes with her foot. “What’s in here?”

  “Um. Protein shakes,” I tell her, since I’m not sure how to broach the subject of how the primary source of protein in them is Chase and Eric’s delicious fucking cum.

  “Gross,” Holly-Anne sneers, recoiling.

  “They’re not that bad.” I breathe a sigh of relief, though. I’m glad—because I don’t want to have to fucking share.

  “So are you going to do it, then?”

  “Do what?”

  “Take whatever job they’re offering you.”

  I consider it again. On one hand, they’ve boosted my self-esteem a lot just by being in proximity to me—and all of their compliments certainly don’t hurt.

  On the other hand, competing in Miss Sexy Universe for them means being naked on live television, and I’m still getting used to being naked in my fucking shower. I just don’t know that I’m there yet.

  But then I think about that woman at the gym—the way she looked at me when she saw me with Chase and Eric’s dicks inside me and the way it motivated her to work even harder.

  I could actually help people by doing this, I realize. By sharing my story, I could help a lot of women who were in the exact same place I was two years ago. And with that in mind…

  “I don’t know,” I admit, giving Lucy a scratch on the head. “I…I think I might.”

  “Get it,” Holly-Anne says, smacking my ass. I wish she wouldn’t have—it’s still full of Eric’s cum. “You want pizza?”

  “Nah,” I say, popping one of the boxes open and putting a few of the shakes—Cream Pie flavored—in the fridge. “Gonna have a shower. I’m on a, um…a new diet.”

  Yeah, I think to myself as I head for the bathroom. A diet of billionaire cum.

  Kara

  I go into work on Monday feeling like a billion bucks.

  Considering the net worth of the sperm shakes I’ve been chugging all weekend, it’s hardly a surprise.

  “Swiped another of Gilded Lily’s models on Friday,” I brag as I smack the file down on my boss’ desk. “That’s, what? Eleven this month?”

  “Twelve, actually,” Mr. Ackerman says with a smile. “You’re on a roll, Kara. There’s nothing I like more than watching you put Evian Sprague and her shitty little agency in their place.”

  Mr. Ackerman was my saving grace once Evian dumped me. I’d been modeling since I was a preteen, so I never went to college or anything. The fashion world is all I’ve ever known, and I didn’t know what I was going to do when Gilded Lily tossed me out the door and onto my fat ass.

  But Mr. Ackerman was there to help me get back on my feet.

  He offered me a job scouting for Wild Rose, Gilded Lily’s biggest competitor. And better yet, he offered me a chance for a little revenge on Evian. How could I turn that down?

  “Actually, boss, I’ve been thinking about that,” I begin. I take a deep breath—because considering what I’m about to ask him, I’m gonna need it. “I’ve got another former Gilded Lily model that I want you to sign.”

  “Oh? I’m always happy to steal that bitch Evian’s thunder. You’ve got my attention.” Mr. Ackerman leans back in his desk chair, kicking his cowboy boots up on his desk and twirling his mustache.

  If he wasn’t a former male model himself, he wouldn’t be able to get away with it—and truth be told, it’s not my favorite look on a dude. But I guess when you own your own company, you can dress however you like.

  I’m just fucking glad that Chase and Eric don’t dress like that.

  Chase and Eric. I haven’t been able to get them out of my mind since our last bang sesh, and I’m already salivating at the thought of another one. They’ve put the idea in my head that I might still have a career in modeling—not just signing models, but being one.

  But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this industry, it’s not to listen to the business opinions of dudes that you’re fucking. Ryan warned me away from leaving Gilded Lily a thousand times while we were dating—and as soon as Evian dumped me, so did he.

  I need a second opinion, and maybe I’ll get a second chance to boot.

  “She’s smart and classy,” I begin, planting my ass on the corner of Mr. Ackerman’s desk. It’s still sore from all the working out I’ve been doing—and I haven’t even been to Power Plus yet today. “She already knows the business inside and out, and I think she’s a great investment.”

  “Go on,” Mr. Ackerman says, leaning in. His mustache is twirled to new fucking heights now, and the more confident I am, the more interested he seems.

  “It’s me, boss,” I admit, staring him down and holding my chin high. “I want a contract with Wild Rose. You already know I can woo clients until they’re eating out of the palm of my hand. I’ve got a killer walk. I’ll need new head shots, but my social media has been blowing up lately, and you know that I’ll work my ass off for you if you’ll just—”

  “Kara, Kara, Kara,” Mr. Ackerman says, shaking his head. “I’m going to stop you right there. Now, of course, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous…”

  “Then what’s the catch?”

  He chuckles, and my heart drops into my stomach.

  I wore my favorite heels for this, dammit, and he’s fucking laughing at me?

  “The industry has changed since you were last in it, baby,” he informs me. “It’s sweet that you’re game for trying—Lord knows we need women with an appetite for success around here. But this isn’t the same scene it was two years ago. Clients don’t just want skinny anymore—they want Kim Kardashians, honey. Not Kate Mosses.”

  I slide off his desk and put my hands on my hips. “I can be a Kim Kardashian.”

  “Sweetheart, you don’t want to be,” he says, shaking his head again. “You know I only want the best for you, Kara, but you’re too thin for plus-size now, and you’re just not…”

  He outlines the shape of a woman in the air with his hands: big tits, tiny waist, and an ass so big you could eat dinner off of it.

  “That can’t be all that the clients want,” I say, feeling my temper bubbling up and threatening to burst. “You know I can do it, boss. There’s not a girl on our roster who knows the game better or who will work harder—”

  “No, there’s not,” Mr. Ackerman admits. “But the fact of the matter is, Kara, women of your age—”

  And that’s where this conversation ends.

  Right fucking there.

  “Women of my age?” I repeat, picking up the fil
e of the model I just signed for him and tossing it in his face. “You just put your goddamn cowboy boot in your fucked up, lopsided mouth, buddy.”

  “Kara, I’m sorry, honey, but—”

  “Nope,” I say, grabbing my purse. “If you’re going to apologize for anything, honey, it had best be an apology to all of woman-kind for that ugly-ass mustache. I quit.”

  “Can’t we talk about this?” he calls out after me.

  I try to think of something clever to say back and can’t.

  I’ve already run out of insults, and it’d just be looping back to call his cowboy boots stupid again.

  “See you around,” I say as I slam the door in his face. “Probably sooner than you think.”

  I don’t even clean out my desk. There’s not anything there that I’m going to need.

  I’ve got a set of workout clothes and my gym shoes in the bottom of my purse, and I’ve got two hot men waiting at the gym for me.

  And Chase and Eric? They’re going to be fucking thrilled for a visit from a woman of my fucking age.

  “Kara,” Chase calls out, jogging over to me as I come stomping through Power Plus’ front doors. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  I consider telling him the truth—that I just failed to get my modeling contract back despite having lost all the fucking weight that got me booted to begin with. I consider telling him that my boss—ex-boss—just called me too old to model, or that I’m unemployed now with no fucking prospects for the future.

  I even consider telling him how much I fucking hate Kim Kardashian and her perfect ass right now.

  But then Chase pulls me against his hard, sweaty chest, and I breathe in his smell.

  Just like that, it all melts away, and all I can do is laugh.

  “Nothing,” I say, feeling the relief washing over me. I have a hot dude kissing my forehead and a pair of big, burly arms wrapped around my slender body. I mean, what else could a girl want? “Nothing at all.”

  “Really? ’Cause I’m not a fuckin’ genius or anything, Kara, but you looked pretty pissed when you came through the door…” He pulls back, scrutinizing my face. “Is this one of those things where you say nothing’s wrong, but I’m supposed to magically know how to fix it without you telling me what it is? Because if so…”