Billionaire Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  Our sex that night wasn't lazy, but there was something slower about it, something sweeter. The word “languid” popped up in my head. Whatever it was, I liked it.

  He stroked my clit as he rocked his hips into mine, his movements unhurried and tender. I shuddered and spread my legs further to allow him access, shifting against the sheets to change the angle until every stroke made sparks erupt in my core.

  My skin felt heated and flushed, and I couldn't seem to keep my eyes open for longer than a couple seconds. The pleasure continued to build, spilling through me until I thought that I would fly apart into a thousand pieces. Each stroke of his fingertips seared with promise as he mercilessly played with my erogenous zones.

  I came hard. My walls contracted around his length and drew Andrew into his own orgasm.

  For a long moment, the only sound between us was our harsh panting as we caught our breath again. Andrew curled his body around mine as my eyes drifted shut. “Good night,” I whispered.

  “Good night,” he responded, his voice a low rumble.

  I thought again about what he'd said, about wanting me to sleep in there. It might not be a definition of our relationship or a declaration of love, but it was a step forward, at least.

  Anyway, it wasn't as though I had any complaints about sleeping in there, not if every night was going to be like this one.

  Chapter Thirty

  Andrew

  I took a sip of my coffee as I watched the numbers in the elevator tick away until we reached the floor that my office was on. In the week since I'd briefed the board of executives that I was going to be putting in fewer hours at work, I'd managed to stay true to my promise. Of course, I could probably cut back on my hours slightly further, but there was no reason to cut back all at once, I reasoned. If I did a little better this week and a little better next week, things would be fine.

  That morning, though, I'd allowed myself a bit of a lazy morning. I'd woken up next to Lexi and hadn't been able to drag myself out of bed. But finally, I hadn't been able to delay any longer. I had a couple meetings lined up at the office that day. So as much as I wanted to stay there, with Lexi tucked into my side, that wasn't an option. Not today, at least.

  I whistled as I got off the elevator and headed towards my office.

  “Mr. Goldwright!” my secretary chirped, standing up as I got nearer.

  “Yes?” I asked, slowing my walk. Usually, she let me get through my coffee and my email before she gave me the rundown for my day. I had to assume that she had something important to tell me already, and it had to be truly dire. “Did one of my meetings cancel?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I just wanted to let you know, before you go in your office, that your girlfriend is in there. I asked her to wait out here before you arrived, but she wouldn't listen.”

  The poor girl looked terrified, no doubt thinking that I would fire her for her inability to keep the woman out of my office. After all, there was sensitive information in there. But I smiled at her. “That's all right,” I said.

  “Oh, of course, sir!” she said. She looked on the cusp of babbling more, but she settled with a short curtsy and then dropped back into her seat.

  I nodded at her and headed into my office, wondering how Lexi had managed to beat me there. And wondering what she was doing there. Did she have it in mind to carry out some sexy office fantasy? The thought had my cock twitching in my pants, but this wasn't the day for it. I'd told her that I had meetings that I needed to get to that morning.

  Then, I paused, my hand on the doorknob. The secretary hadn't told me that Lexi was in there. She'd just said that my girlfriend was in there. I'd automatically jumped to the conclusion that she meant Lexi, despite the fact that Lexi and I had never had that conversation.

  I smiled a little to myself and headed inside.

  But when I entered my office, it wasn't Lexi who sat there waiting for me. Instead, it was Renée.

  I stared at her for a long moment, dumbstruck by the sight of her. “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance from my voice as I moved behind my desk, hardly bothering to look at her.

  “Oh, don't be like that,” Renée said, rolling her eyes. “I gave you some space. Now it's time to get over whatever it was you were thinking and fix our relationship.”

  “That's not going to happen,” I said exasperatedly. “Renée, we broke up. You need to learn how to let things go.”

  “You know the saying, everything worth having is worth fighting for?” Renée asked, shaking her head. She came around the desk towards me, putting her hand on my arm. “I know you weren't sure about us, but I know it's just because you were scared of the commitment. But I can help you with that. You don't need to run off with some new girl. You can be with me. We'll take things slowly, I promise.”

  “Not going to happen,” I said, shaking her hand off my arm. “Renée, we had fun. But that's it. It was just sex and nice dinners, nothing more. I enjoyed them, and I'm sure that you did as well. But we aren't soulmates. There's nothing to fight for.”

  “That's not true, and you know it,” Renée said. “You told me you loved me.”

  “I told you that, but I don't think I meant it,” I sighed. “I'm sorry, Renée, but I didn't feel anything for you. And deep down, I don't think you felt anything for me, either. You might like the idea of loving me, but that's not the same as loving me. I don't regret the time we spent together, but I'm not going to pretend that we had some deeper connection.”

  “That's not true!” Renée cried, looking like she wanted to stamp her foot and throw a proper tantrum.

  I rolled my eyes. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” I said, already moving towards the door. “Whatever we had, whether we loved one another or not, it's over. I'm with someone else now.”

  Renée snorted derisively. “That woman,” she said. “Darling, I'm just trying to protect you.”

  “I'm not exactly the kind of man who needs protection from a woman,” I scoffed.

  “Are you sure?” Renée asked. “Is that woman still living with you?”

  “Janice?” I asked, deliberately trying to be evasive. “Janice has never lived with me; she just comes over to work during the daytime.”

  “Not Janice,” my ex said, rolling her eyes. “The other woman; Lexi.”

  “That's none of your business,” I said.

  “I looked into her background,” Renée told me. “She's bad news, Andy. She comes from a broken home, and she hasn't had a steady job in years. I'm surprised that she's even been able to feed that kid of hers. She probably has to steal to support them.”

  She paused, looking expectantly at me, but I didn't say anything, figuring that it was best to let her get it all out of her system before I reiterated my request for her to get the fuck out of my office. Sure enough, she continued, sounding increasingly agitated.

  “Now she doesn't even have to steal, though, does she? She's convinced you that her kid is yours, and you'll do anything for her now. But she's just some fucking gold digger chasing after your money. She's just trying to get her claws into you and to drain you of everything you have.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “A woman doesn't have to be from a broken home to be a gold digger,” I said. “Maybe you're just jealous because your skills as a gold digger were bested by hers.”

  Renée gaped at me. “I'm not a gold digger!” she cried. “I'm not after your money! I love you. You know that.”

  I shrugged. “You're a beast in the sack; I'll give you that,” I said. “But I'm sorry, Renée, I don't really find you all that interesting. Whether you're a gold digger or not, we won't work out. I'm not interested in trying anymore.”

  “I can't believe you would say that,” Renée snapped. “I'm not a gold digger. You were the one who took me out to the fancy places and the new clubs. You were the one who bought me gifts when you traveled. I didn't ask for any of those things.”

  “Right,”
I said, rolling my eyes. “And if I didn't take you out to nice restaurants and clubs on the weekends, you'd sulk and throw a hissy fit. If I didn't give you gifts when I came back from a business trip, you'd pout. You may not have asked for those things in so many words, but you wouldn't have dated me if I hadn't spent money on you. Don't go pretending that you're some saint.”

  “And things are so much better with Lexi, are they?” Renée snarled. “You never buy her gifts or take her out places? You only let her live in your home and eat your food and have Janice take her brat to the park.”

  “What's going on between Lexi and me is none of your business,” I told her, beginning to lose my patience. “Now, if you'll please leave.”

  “That bitch!” Renée practically howled, and I was glad, not for the first time, that my office was soundproof and no one else could hear her ranting. “She's just some sort of office slut loser!” she shrieked, hardly making sense anymore. “The only thing that she's managed to do right in her life is get knocked up. She's a slimy, good-for-nothing con, and I can't believe that you're letting her get away with it!”

  God, what I wouldn't give to be able to slap her for saying those things about Lexi. Unfortunately, I knew that if she walked out of my office with a bright red handprint on the side of her face, things were going to get awkward fast. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, and my nails dug half-circles into my palms.

  But Renée wasn't done yet.

  “And that brat of hers! You don't like kids. You've never liked kids. I can't believe you're putting up with that thing living in your house. It probably makes a mess everywhere and bothers you when you're trying to work, doesn't it?”

  “She,” I said, even though I knew that Renée was far from caring at this point. “And the only thing that you've ever managed to do right in your life was being born into a wealthy family.” I started to realize that part of what made the woman so fiery in bed was symptomatic of a more unstable personality than I'd ever noticed. “Renée, I want you the hell out of my office, and this time, I'm not asking nicely.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, a taunting note to her voice. “Everyone knows I'm your girlfriend. No one's going to want to intervene in a lover's quarrel.”

  “I will call security, and regardless of what you seem to think, they will be on my side,” I threatened, my voice low and dangerous. “I am the owner of this company, and I pay those guys to remove unwanted disturbances, after all. I don't care if they have to drag you out kicking and screaming: they will make sure that you're no longer a nuisance here. And if you ever show up here again or show up at my house, I will have you arrested for trespassing. Do I make myself clear?”

  Renée stared at me for a long moment, looking torn between disbelief and fury. Then, she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the glass rattled.

  I massaged my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Already, my good mood from that morning had evaporated. And a glance at my watch showed me I had only five minutes until my first meeting.

  I took a few deep breaths and then went to quickly glance over my notes before heading to the conference room.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lexi

  When Andrew had first told me he had a private yacht, for some reason, I'd thought that he was joking. Of course, it only made sense, given that he also had a private jet, but where the jet was in some ways practical, the yacht just seemed like an unnecessary splurge.

  When he suggested that we take a family outing on the boat for Independence Day, I had hesitated. But after being assured of all the ways that Emma would be safe on the yacht, I'd caved.

  I was glad for it now, too. The weather was beautiful that day, and Emma was thrilled to be out on Puget Sound.

  I was pretty thrilled as well. Andrew's yacht was just as swanky as I might have expected, with a full bar, a few staff members, and plenty of food for a whole army of people. But other than the staff, it was just the three of us there, having a nice and relaxing day together.

  Andrew got the grill going midway through the afternoon and had burgers cooking up in short order. “Can I get you another drink?” he asked me, noticing that my iced tea was empty.

  I smiled at him. “I can get it,” I told him. “You just keep those burgers cooking.”

  “Relax,” Andrew said, plucking the glass out of my hand. “I have to go inside and grab a few more things anyway. It's not a problem to refill your drink on the way.”

  “Can't argue with that,” I said with a laugh, settling back down on the reclining deck chair, soaking up the sun.

  Not that I really ever tanned all that much, but it was cozy and warm there, and I was going to take full advantage of it. Emma was off with Janice, trying to spot dolphins at the front of the yacht. I could watch them from a distance, but it was “me” time at the moment.

  I watched as Andrew headed inside the yacht with my glass, thinking as he went that I was starting to love the man.

  Wait, what? I wondered where that thought had come from. I was starting to like Andrew more and more, the longer we stayed with him, but I didn't know when I had jumped from “like” to “love.” The more I thought about it, though, the more it felt right to me.

  It was exactly what I'd told him, once. After Emma was born, I looked for dads for her, rather than just looking for good boyfriends for myself. But Andrew wasn't just perfect with Emma; he was also a gentleman when it came to his interactions with me. And although he'd once been incredibly rude to me and so commitment shy, I started to see those things change.

  He’d cut back on work and spent more time with us, and he was friendly whenever he did. He had come up with a couple ideas for our family days, even, although I had a sneaking suspicion he had probably asked Janice for recommendations on places that Emma might enjoy.

  Whatever changes he made in his life, I enjoyed them. That said, I knew I had to be careful. I could sense that Andrew was still holding back, that he was still worried about committing to this. He still hadn't said that he loved me, and even though his actions hinted at that, it could also be simple affection. We had been living in his house for a while now. It was only natural that he would start to feel affection for me since Emma was our daughter. It didn't mean that he wanted to marry me.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Andrew said as he handed my newly-refilled glass back to me. He gestured around. “This day is supposed to be about relaxing and having fun.”

  I laughed and rolled over on my stomach so that I could watch him better from my chair. “I am relaxing and having fun,” I promised. “Anyway, aren't you the king of over-working? I would have thought you would understand when someone was overthinking.”

  “I understand it, of course,” Andrew mused. “But I don't want to see you doing it, today.” He lowered his voice, glancing around to see if there was anyone who might overhear us. “If you're having a hard time shutting off your brain, I could take you on a tour of the yacht.”

  The way he emphasized the sentence left no doubt in my mind as to what that tour would entail, and I shivered despite the heat of the sun.

  I smiled up at him and shook my head. “Not now,” I said. “But maybe later. I want to enjoy the sun for as long as I can.”

  “You should put on some more sunscreen,” Andrew said, glancing towards the crystal-clear sky. “Want some help?”

  “Sure,” I agreed, surprised that he would ask.

  I sat up, and he sat on the lounge chair beside me, gathering my hair in his hands and then carefully moving it over one shoulder. His hands were warm, strong, and sure as he began to massage sunscreen into my shoulders. I made a soft noise, and he paused, hands drawing away.

  “Sorry, was that too hard?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “No, it's just, I didn't realize I was going to be getting a massage out of having you apply sunscreen,” I admitted, biting my lip as my face flushed.

  D
espite the smell of sunscreen lingering in the air, there was something undeniably sensual about the feeling of his fingers as they pressed into my skin, kneading out the tension that I hadn't even known was there.

  “Just making sure that it's rubbed in properly,” Andrew said after a momentary pause. If I had to guess, he sounded sheepish, but I couldn't picture him being anything other than cool and confident.

  He slowly resumed his ministrations, taking far longer than he actually needed to lather up my back and shoulders. The moment was broken, though, when I turned to face him, and he swiped a stripe of sunscreen down my cheek.

  I giggled and reached up to rub in the mark. “Thanks,” I told him.

  “Anytime,” Andrew said. He glanced over to the grill and swore, suddenly leaping to his feet and going to flip the burgers.

  “Don't worry, I'll eat these ones,” he promised.

  I laughed and stood up, stretching and moving over to his side to inspect the damage. They weren't too burnt, but there would be a definite charred taste to them. “Give them to Emma,” I suggested. “She'll need hers cut up anyway and doused in ketchup, so we'll just cut off the burnt parts and she'll never know the difference. She usually doesn't end up eating much of her burger anyway. She likes the bun and the chips the best. And Janice's pasta salad.”

  “Good idea,” Andrew said, already starting to fix a plate for Emma.

  “Emma!” I called, waving an arm as she looked back at me. She flounced back over to us, followed by Janice.

  “Did you see any dolphins?” Andrew asked.

  “No,” Emma said, her face falling for a second. “But I seed the water monster!”

  “The water monster?” Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow at Janice, who just smiled at him.

  A little while later, we were all fed, and it was starting to get dark. Andrew joined me on my lounge chair and curled into my side as we watched Emma coloring pictures and singing cute, tuneless songs about how much she loved boats and being on the water.