Accidental Baby for the Billionaire_A Billionaire's Baby Romance

by Lia Lee

  He sidestepped easily through the gauntlet of reporters and paps, as if he had been born doing maneuvers like this. Maybe he had. His father had been a huge talk of the town for decades for his telecom company, and trust fund kids still had their own set of paparazzi stalking them. It was amazing how effortless he made everything. While Jessica stumbled a bit and just tried not to be blinded by the cameras, he smiled and charmed everyone.

  It warmed her heart to see this side of him, the business side everyone respected. The fatherly side and the lover were what she knew so far, but she could also see why he was so successful at negotiating contracts and winning over stars to do his pictures. He was amazing.

  They entered the hotel and quickly to the ballroom which was decked out like Mardi Gras. Arches of balloons filled the ceiling, flowers of all sorts of tropical, Lousiana-climate varieties from creeping moss to gorgeous hothouse roses layered each table’s centerpiece. Performers swallowing fire or walking high on stilts crossed the room, and currently, a real blues band was wailing for everyone on the dance floor.

  It wasn’t completely what she expected, but it was more fun than any party she’d ever been to. The jazz and blues swirled around her and, unlike some parties she’d been to, everyone seemed ready to dance. Brent smiled down at her and guided her to the dance floor. Part of her was flinching, even with the wig and Mardi Gras mask she wore, Jessica expected to be identified. Somehow, she felt like an imposter just one step away from being escorted out of the event. Brent would never. Still, this was the function for anyone that was anyone in Southern California. She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t fit in here at all. Yes, her dad was a wiz at math and was a respected accountant, but he wasn’t a CEO, and he was the logistics guy behind an up and coming studio. He wasn’t the handsome face, the trusted golden boy like Brent. Christ, Jessica was just the science student locked up in the library and trying to get into graduate school.

  She wasn’t a princess.

  But tonight, she felt like one, and it might be her last chance for that if Brent didn’t feel the same way about the twins as she did. If he broke up with her.

  “So,” Brent said, “do you want to dance?”

  She swallowed hard, and it felt like her throat was lined with cotton. “I do… I…”

  “What?” he asked, quirking his head at her. “You sound hesitant.”

  “It’s just that I think everyone will be watching us.”

  He chuckled, something low and hungry that made her belly flare with warmth. “I hope so. That’s why I brought you here, so everyone can see the woman I love on my arm.”

  “Brent…” she started. She just wasn’t ready to say the same, couldn’t until she knew for sure how he felt about the twins.

  He shook his head, then nodded to where everyone else danced. “I don’t need you to say it back to me. I don’t need anything tonight but you in my arms, babe.”

  She smiled, despite all her fears, and let him lead her out to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, and she was pushed flush against his body. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafted through her nostrils, and the strength of his frame pressed against her. He was the man who could protect her. That much she knew. If he’d protect her children was the next question on her mind.

  He dipped her low, and she looked up into his face, his blue eyes sparkling at her with the depth of a clear Arctic stream. He was everything she could have ever wanted – if only her father weren’t in the way or his father’s expectations. If only things were different. He pulled her back to his chest, and the warmth of his embrace made her feel safer than she’d ever felt, like she could never bear to break away. Looking over his shoulder, Jessica could just peer out and see the crowd looking at them. The paps were taking a million photos, the flashes sparking in her eyes and blinding her. It made her feel like a celebrity, too.

  So very impossible, all of it.

  So much like a dream.

  He drew her closer to him, and she felt the press of his erection against her hips, more intimacy between them. It could have been just the two of them swaying in time to the music, together in the lost, slow rhythm of the jazz around them. Even with all the bright light bulb flashes and all the prying eyes, the world fell away, and it was if she were alone with her Prince Charming.

  The song came to an end, and Brent grinned. The next song was a more raucous blues number, something more fun but they danced together through it, him spinning and dipping her like a pro. Then the next dance. And the next. Half the night seemed to fly by in a riot of colors, feelings, and emotions. All of it based on being drawn to him, being consumed by him.

  After what felt like hours, he kissed her temple and gestured toward the far end of the room.

  “There’s a balcony out there overlooking the San Diego harbor. I’d like to show you everything.”

  She followed him, almost floating off to the balcony as if she were in a dream. He shut the door behind him, and she was surprised to see how remote it was. No one else was on the wide veranda, and the windows behind them were tinted so darkly she couldn’t see back through them. A growth of ivy sprung up around the edges of the railing and cast large corners of the porch in the darkest shadows. However, in the middle of the balcony, she and he were able to walk out and see the most beautiful view of the harbor. Large sailboats glided through the sea silently, power boats puttered around, and lights danced on the surface like fireflies.

  She leaned against him, relishing all of it.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “This might seem nuts, but the balcony was set up tonight to lock behind us. No one is supposed to be out here but us for a little bit. I wanted to just have some privacy with you.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  He reached down and slid his fingers under the fabric of her dress, sliding his hands up the slit in her thigh and teasing at her hips. “You’re beautiful, and you’re mine, and I wanted to have you all to myself as much as I could. Not hiding at all.”

  She gestured to her mask, “Within reason.”

  “Yes, but my security detail has the balcony blocked off from guests and, as you can see, it’s easy to be discreet here.”

  She swallowed again, that cotton ball sensation in her throat warring with the heat flaring through her belly and surging to her core. She needed to tell him about the twins, but tonight was the last night they’d have as just two lovers. Tomorrow the burdens and choices of being parents (God, if he even wants that) would be upon them. She wanted to enjoy this. So far, she had been. Jessica had allowed herself to be swept up in the fantasy; now, she was open to anything else that Brent wanted.

  Any pleasure they could share for possibly the last time.

  “Then what did you have in mind?”

  He smirked toward the darkest corner of the balcony, one obscured not just by ivy but by the stone wall of the hotel as well. “I want to make love to you out here, in the open air.”

  “Your bad boy ways?”

  “Oh, I don’t intend to get caught at all, sweetheart.”

  She smirked. “I don’t either, but I want to do something else for you.” Reaching down, she let her hand stray over the bulge of his erection. “Do you trust me?”

  “With everything.”

  They scurried to the darkened, secret corner with all the calm and restraint of two teenagers. She couldn’t help it. Her whole life, she’d been the good girl. Now, she was blatantly aware that Brent brought out her impulsive side. Weren’t the twins proof enough of that? One more night of throwing caution to the wind was probably all she had left, and she hadn’t done one thing for him yet.

  She wanted to.

  Jessica wanted to make him scream in every way possible, in every way that left his blood pumping in his veins and him begging for more.

  She smiled up at him and pushed at his shoulders, cajoling him up against the way. The hint of mint and ivy hit her no
se, and the foliage around her was adding to the whole wildness of the experience. Slowly, she got to her knees and grinned up at him.

  “I want to do this for you.”

  Brent took in a sharp hitch of breath. “You don’t have to.”

  “But I do. I want to show you back how much I care about you. I know that I can’t say it, that it’s hard and scary for me to trust in anything after my mom left, but I want you to know I’m willing to go all in, to be wild and ready and everything you need. To be the girl on the balcony now but to be so much more with whatever future you can dream of.”

  His eyes brightened, and he stroked his fingers under her chin. “Do you mean that, babe?”

  “I mean it with every fiber of my being. I mean that I care about you, that I want so much more. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Your father, I know.”

  “So many things, but we can have dinner tomorrow. I’ve been thinking things over, coming to some decisions, but tonight’s about us. Here’s to not hiding.” Then, Jessica unzipped his fly.

  Brent shuddered as her fingers found the hardened flesh of his dick. “Never hiding, not after all of this.”

  She looked over her shoulder, double-checking that they were truly obscured from view. Then, she slipped off her mask. She’d need a lot more range of movement to do all she needed. Besides, she knew most of Brent’s staff. The security was top-notch. If they were determined to keep people out, then no one would get through the barricades. No one at all. With her fears assuaged, she pulled his cock free from its confines in his slacks.

  Her mouth was already watering as surely as her channel was growing slick with need.

  But tonight wasn’t about her.

  It was about him.

  And she intended to give him the pleasure of a lifetime.

  At first, she teased him with a slow, lazy stroke of her fingers. She enjoyed that, too, watching his mouth hang open in ecstasy and his eyes grow heavy-lidded in his need and his relaxation. Jessica rarely got to see him so unguarded, so carefree. As she ran her hand up his shaft at a languid pace, she was able to see that side of him she treasured so deeply.

  Licking her lips, she still didn’t lean over to caress the head of his cock. No. She planned to torture her lover in the best way possible, make him almost die waiting for the sweet, beckoning feel of her lips on him. Instead, she reached up with her other hand and cupped his balls, rolling their heavy weight between her thumb and forefinger even as her stroking increased on his cock. It twitched in her hand, and a hint of precum slipped from the tip, making it easier –quicker – to stroke him.

  She finally couldn’t resist and wrapped her lips around the sensitive skin of his head. Brent bucked up his hips, shoving his dick deeper into her throat, and she swallowed it up eagerly. He wrapped his hand in her hair, and she was lost in a mix of scents – the mint and ivy around them, the cinnamon in the air, his own musk. Even the hints of alcohol and gourmet finger foods in the hotel behind them. All of it mixed with the strength of his grip on her head and the saltiness of his hardness in her mouth.

  Arching her neck, she increased her rhythm, rushing up and down his shaft with the quickest pace she could manage. Her hands caressed his balls, and they were taut against her grip. He was almost as ready as she was. Above her, Brent had bitten his lower lip tightly to keep from screaming out. She knew why. They couldn’t attract attention. That would be a huge risk, something that would sully not only here but this event. They couldn’t risk that.

  Too bad.

  She’d have loved to hear him scream her name. Usually, Brent had a lot to say, a silver tongue, but, of course, not tonight.

  His length twitched again in her mouth, and she knew instinctively he was close, oh so close. She swirled her tongue over the sensitive head and licked it with pointed, quick flicks of her tongue. Applying just the tiniest extra hint of pressure against his balls, she felt his body tighten, and then, he came. A salty explosion of his essence poured down her throat, and she lapped it up eagerly. She never thought she’d be that kind of woman, but he was the father of her children, the man she loved, and Jessica found herself slurping down every irresistible drop.

  He shuddered and let out a tiny moan as he shivered against the wall. It took a few minutes for rationality to return to his eyes. Brent zipped himself up and eyed her. Jessica, for her part, stood up slowly and wiped at the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. Digging into her clutch, she pulled out her Binaca and a few Tic-Tacs. After she felt a bit more like herself, she reached for her mask.

  Brent grabbed her by the wrist. “No, you don’t have to do that. We can have a few more minutes out here, just us and no hiding.”

  Jessica sighed and shook her head. “I can’t.” She slid the mask on, one of the many barriers still standing between them. “It’s too much of a risk.”

  Brent frowned and stroked the porcelain of the mask she wore. “It will be more someday, and someday soon, I promise you that.”

  “Well, well,” a gruff voice said.

  She turned and wanted to shout when she spied Donald Sanderson easing onto the balcony. Her heart skipped several beats at the sight of him. If he’d come out even five minutes earlier, he’d have seen her being far too daring with his son in public.

  No, don’t sugarcoat it. He would have seen you acting like a hooker or something…

  Mr. Sanderson stroked the beard on his chin and smirked triumphantly at both of them. “Miss Billings, my my… What would your father say? You think I can’t see how wrinkled my son is already and the new knots in that wig of yours and not know exactly what you’ve been doing out here. Who you’ve been doing?”

  Brent gritted his teeth and pushed her behind him. Jessica appreciated that – his instincts to put himself between her and the threat Donald Sanderson represented. His father couldn’t and wouldn’t physically hurt her, but his barbs cut like arrows to her heart. It pierced through her and into her soul.

  “Son, don’t try and deny things now. Do you really think I can’t tell the clues: the way you snuck her out of here and I had to remind security who they really worked for? The fact that you are still half bleary-eyed from whatever you’ve done? The hint of sex in the air? Please, I didn’t become a telecom mogul by being an idiot.”

  “Nothing’s going on here, and this isn’t Jessica Billings.”

  Donald drew near her and circled Jessica like a shark getting ready to dive in for the kill. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she wanted to bolt, but she couldn’t give him the satisfaction. His grin widened, and it was a look of pure evil and pure satisfaction she’d see in her nightmares from now.

  “Of course it is.” His bony fingers reached out and gripped her golden dolphin necklace in his grip. “I recognize this very well. Miss Billings, you’re exactly the girl I thought you were. Don’t be upset – most people who get near my son think he’s their way to fame and fortune. I was never shocked you’d be a plain, gold-digging slut like the rest of them.”

  Jessica flinched but pulled away from Brent. Even his presence couldn’t brace her from the way Donald’s words landed like blows across her body and her face. “I’m not.”

  Donald shook his head, and a manic gleam came into his eyes. “I know the type of girl you are. You’re not from the pedigreed families I’d prefer. You’re barely legal. I’d be shocked if you weren’t poking holes in condoms to trap my son and get at my estate.”

  Tears prickled in her eyes, and she rushed for the doors. Brent went to grab her arm, but she dodged him. She couldn’t bear his father’s words. They weren’t true. Not at all. She hadn’t known, but she wasn’t sure she could ever convince Brent let alone Donald Sanderson about her confusion over her sleeping medications. She would look like as big a gold digger as everyone said.

  Her dad would be humiliated.

  Oh God.

  Donald had ruined, or tried to ruin, a damn senator. What if he set his sights on what her father h
ad built?

  Nausea roiled in her throat in a way that had nothing to do with any lingering morning sickness. Jessica pulled her skirt up a bit so she could run as fast as her heels allowed. She burst through the opening and into the hall. The jazz was blaring now, and it pounded in her head, made her skull throb. It all disoriented her.

  Doesn’t matter; I just have to get out.

  Now.

  Run, flee, get away from her shame.

  She was at the curb and desperately trying to flag down a cab when a palm came to rest on the small of her back.

  “Please, sweetheart, stay.”

  She turned to see the resolute set of Brent’s shoulders and the fear in his eyes as they darted all over her face. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, caught between the hot-cool porcelain of the mask and the heat of her flushed skin. “I can’t.”

  “My father doesn’t speak for me. He doesn’t mean anything.”

  “But he’s here, and the guards parted for him. Admit it: you’re part of his company and part of his legacy. He’ll be with you till he dies, and he’ll always see me as lesser, as like your call girl or worse.”

  “It’s not like that.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe with me.”

  She shook her head, and both hands found their way to her stomach. Her heart was tearing in two, and she couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t bear the humiliation or the fear of Donald’s vindictive streak against her father. Her dad had worked too hard to get where he was, and he didn’t deserve to be ruined by her mistakes.

  She’d been so young, so foolish.

  Well, she had two kids and a father to protect. Jessica couldn’t afford to be young and naïve any longer.

  Her voice broke as she spoke, and it took everything she had to stifle sobs. “I can’t be with you, Brent. I care about you and Cara so much, but your dad hates me, and I know exactly what he does to people who cross him. I won’t let that happen to our—my—family, no matter what.”