The Next Level: A BWWM Billionaire Marriage And Pregnancy Romance

by Stacey Pond

  “I didn’t look,” he said.

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  He paused for a minute. “They were like out to here,” he said indicating how big her breasts were with his hands.

  Several of the other patrons shook their heads or turned up their noses. He didn’t care. Matthew had no censor sometimes and it was mostly hilarious, sometimes embarrassing. She laughed behind her hand and swatted at him.

  “Stop that! Stop it!”

  Matthew grinned as he drank some water and shot daggers at the people around them. She loved that out of the both of them, he was the one who could lighten up. He cared deeply about his job, loved the thought of going into his father’s business, but he didn’t seem to care for the people. He’d told Chelsea more than once that rich people were like toddlers only with diamonds and cash instead of toys to fight over.

  “How’s the wedding planning going? Ready to call it quits and hire someone yet?” He asked once their food arrived.

  She pointed her fork at him. “No! I told you, I can do this myself. It’s been my dream to plan my wedding since I was a girl.”

  “Yes and now you’re a busy woman trying to make partner. I don’t want our wedding stomping all over your dreams,” he said.

  Chelsea smiled. His consideration of her both in their relationship and at her job was what made her love him so much. “It’s not. It’s just, I really want to do this myself. Besides, Sangi’s helping.”

  “Oh Sangi’s helping, well now I’m relieved.”

  “Stop it,” Chelsea gave him a look. “What’s wrong with Sangi?”

  “Well, let’s see. She told you to put laxatives in my coffee when we first met. On several occasions she’s asked me if I was gay, oh and tried to set me up with her cousin. Then there’s the time we asked her to watch the apartment. She let all the plants die, ate all of the food and didn’t even realize we got robbed.”

  “Okay, lower your voice. I know. She can be a bit...odd, but she’s also my best friend. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for her,” Chelsea said.

  Matthew sighed, but seemed to let the conversation dissipate for the moment. Chelsea knew Sangi could be a flake sometimes, but she had been there for her through every stage of her life. Both of their moms even worked at the same hospital, although Sangi’s mom was an ER doctor. She could trust Sangi, sometimes. It was just keeping her on task that was the hard part.

  Matthew wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So, my parents house this weekend…” he began.

  “Yay,” Chelsea chimed in.

  “Look, I know you’re nervous. Hell, my mother still has the ability to make me feel like a little kid-”

  “Yeah, not comforting.”

  “However, I also know she’ll like you. I mean, you two are pretty alike,” he said before returning to his plate.

  “Does she know you’re dating...you know, a black woman?”

  Matthew almost choked on his chicken parmesan. He held up a finger to her as he drank down his glass of water. She stared back at him knowing the answer even before he came up for air. No, he hadn’t told her, not a thing.

  “Matthew-”

  “It’s no big deal. My parents aren’t racists, babe. Besides, race isn’t important anymore,” he said straightening his tie.

  “Then why are you nervous? You only do that when you’re nervous. And it may not be important to us, but it is to some people. I mean, how do I know I’m not just setting myself up for an evening of failure?” Chelsea asked.

  “First of all, they’re going to love you. Trust me. Second, I didn’t say evening. I said weekend. They invited us for the whole weekend so you could meet the family and a few close family friends.”

  Chelsea dropped her fork onto her plate with a clink. She rested both of her elbows on the table and pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. As much as she loved Matthew, he sure had a habit of leaving out important details. It irritated her. When she opened her eyes, his hand was across the table, palm up, waiting for her hand. She looked at it before she turned away.

  “Okay, I should have told you earlier, babe. I’m so sorry. I promise you, we will have a great weekend, my parents will love you and if things don’t go well, we’ll leave. Agreed?” He said.

  She looked into his eyes. Those baby blues always seemed to win her over in the end. She sighed heavily. The nervous twisting in her stomach hadn’t left, but she couldn’t resist that sad look on his face for long. Chelsea rolled her eyes.

  “Fine, but you will tell them before we go! And the first minute I don’t feel comfortable you will wrangle up some bullshit excuse and get me the hell out of there.”

  Chelsea slipped her hand into his as he nodded. His fingers curled around her hand. The smile was back on his face making the nervousness in the pit of her stomach lift slightly. She still couldn’t shake the slight feeling however that things weren’t going to go well.

  They finished their lunch and headed back to the office together arm in arm. They’d do that until they were in sight of the building and disconnect as if they were merely friends. They didn’t want people in their business, but in the office it was almost impossible to have a secret. Chelsea knew Jeff was a hopeless womanizer, Amy was getting a divorce and Roger had recently attended a sex addicts anonymous group. She wasn’t sure how anonymous it was if the whole office now knew.

  Matthew opted for the stairs. She followed him into the narrow, dusty white corridor. Looking around to make sure no one was around,, Matthew laid a hand on her cheek. She felt heat sweep her body at his touch. Leaning in, he kissed her softly. It was sweet and innocent but quickly became something more. His tongue slipped into her mouth, wet and warm against her own. She felt wetness collect between her thighs. Her hands gripped his jacket. She wanted to push him up against the wall, slip a hand into his pants, grip his cock and stroke him into a frenzy. Even though they tried to keep a low profile, there was something hot about rubbing up against each other where they worked. They heard footsteps approaching and quickly broke apart.

  “I’ll see you upstairs,” he whispered, a noticeable bulge in the front of his slacks.

  Chelsea giggled as if she were back in high school as the stairwell door opened. She slipped past the man going up and headed for the elevators. If they didn’t have such an important case coming up, she would have invited him back to her office for a little play time, but she knew better. Mr. Whitehill had already warned her about slacking on her work. Not that she had, he just wanted a reason to lecture. Or maybe a reason to stare at her stocking legs. It was hard to tell.

  She disappeared into her office ignoring the stares, whispers and giggles. Let them talk. She was marrying the man of her dreams and so close to making partner she could taste it. After she closed the door behind her, she could feel her cellphone buzzing away. Reaching a manicured hand down into her bag, she pulled out her phone. Sangi’s picture popped up. Just in time.

  “Tell me you got the flowers squared away.”

  Chapter 2

  “Okay, slight problem with the flowers,” Sangi responded.

  Chelsea groaned before flopping into her chair. “What now?”

  “These flowers are so pretty, I just want to keep them in my apartment.”

  “Don’t scare me like that! So, we have a florist?”

  Sangi’s laugh filtered through the phone. “Only the best. He’ll have everything ready in time for the wedding. The gardenias are beautiful, Chelsea. You’re going to love them.”

  Chelsea sighed in relief. “Thanks, hon.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m meeting his parents this weekend.”

  “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Chelsea laughed. Her best friend, the ever present sailor mouthed woman. While Chelsea could contain her language and be appropriate, it seemed almost impossible for Sangi to do. She shook her head.

  “I’m serious,” Chelsea said. “I’m nervous. More nervous than fifth grade ballet recital, nervo
us.”

  “Well, it is some serious shit. Don’t worry, I’ll have your back.”

  “How can you have my back?”

  “I’m going with you!” Sangi declared a little too loudly.

  “Why on earth would you want to go? Why would I let you go?”

  “Come on,” Sangi whined, making Chelsea roll her eyes, “I want to see how the WASP’s live. Let me go, let me go.”

  “I’ll ask Matthew. I have to go, someone’s knocking. Bye.”

  “Come by for drinks tonight.”

  Chelsea laid her phone on the desk. One of her co-worker’s peaked her head in and dropped off some paperwork before quickly disappearing again. Chelsea drummed her fingers on her desk when the idea hit her. She logged into her laptop and opened up a new search page. She bit her bottom lip before she forced herself to type in Matthew’s name. Matthew Rawlins.

  The computer loaded quickly and before she could stop herself she was scouring the internet. She saw a name attached to his family and clicked the link. His father’s page, Rawlins construction, popped up. A man of about fifty with thick black hair, thin build and the same baby blue eyes stared back at her. They were definitely related. The man had his arm wrapped around a young man’s shoulder who looked like Matthew, but after a few moments she realized wasn’t Matthew. They had the same blond hair, same smile, same way of holding themselves, but he had the most alarming emerald green eyes. Chelsea scrolled down a bit and saw the caption.

  Father and son, Lyle and Andrew.

  He had a brother?

  *****

  “I just don’t see why you don’t tell me these things,” Chelsea called as she slipped out of her work clothes. She could hear Matthew banging around in the kitchen. She could tell by the sound of tinkling that he was pouring glasses of something.

  He walked into the room, the only clothes he wore his black boxers. “I don’t know, we’ve been busy. It’s not like you talk about your family much,” he said as he held out a wine glass filled with dark red liquid.

  “Are you kidding me? I only talk about them all of the time. Why do you always avoid the subject?”

  Matthew sighed. He sat his glass on the nightstand then crawled into the bed with her. He ran a hand down her stomach, her thigh. His fingers curled around her leg. She smacked at his hand and he yanked it away.

  “Okay, I just don’t like talking about them. I mean, what would I say? They spend too much money and drive fancy cars. Besides, I thought this was supposed to be about us.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t pout at me. You’re not cute.”

  “Damn straight. I’m sexy,” he said as he climbed on top of her.

  Chelsea giggled as he bit into her neck. His teeth grazed her skin just gently enough to tickle her. She felt his eager hands working. Sighing, she knew the battle was lost. Matthew had a gift for winning even the smallest of arguments. She supposed it came with dating an attorney. His mouth trailed down from her neck. He kissed her shoulders, gently. Then he was moving on kissing her collarbones, the tops of her breasts, before he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. Her toes instantly curled.

  Matthew’s fingers reached up. He gripped her left nipple between his fingers. She moaned as he lavished attention on both of her breasts, a shudder passing through her body. She could feel his cock stiffen beneath his boxers as he was pressed against her body. Chelsea wanted nothing more than to rip those boxers off and climb on top of him, but she could tell it wasn’t going to be that easy to gain control. The thing she loved most about sex with him was the variety. Sometimes they were loving, passionate, other times they were in a power struggle that always ended up being mutually satisfying.

  Matthew grinned at her as he worked his hands around her back, opening the lacy pink bra she wore before he tossed it to the floor. She heard it land softly. His fingers gripped her breasts, firm but gentle. She felt the warmth of his tongue glide over her nipples as she closed her eyes and arched her back. He went after one nipple, then the next. Back and forth until she was slowly turning into a puddle.

  Chelsea’s eyes were still closed when she felt that warm, wetness travel south. His tongue ran down between her breasts, down her stomach and finished just above her smooth mound. She felt his fingers gently pull her matching pink panties away before he took an agonizing lick. A moan caught in her throat, her hands threaded through his blond hair. She felt him begin to slide the panties from her body, the soft material slipping over her skin like water. Then he was back between her legs again, his eager mouth licking her pussy without restraint. She arched up from the bed, pulling his face in closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath mixing in with the even strokes of his tongue. A moan slipped from between her lips as he flattened his tongue and ran it over her clit. Shudders passed through her. In her belly she felt the familiar rushing of her building orgasm. Still holding onto his hair she rode her orgasm out, her pussy grinding against his mouth as if she couldn’t get enough of the wonderful feeling.

  Her eyes opened in time to see his muscular body raise up. He wiped his mouth with his arm, the look in his eyes said he wasn’t nearly finished. She watched, still panting, as he stepped off of the bed and slipped his hands inside of his boxers. He took his time sliding them off, both teasing her and giving her time to recover. Chelsea let out a small groan as his cock was freed from his boxers, the head glistening with precum. A hand wrapped around her ankle. Matthew pulled her to the side of the bed, pushed her legs back until he had open access to her dripping pussy.

  Chelsea could see the savage look in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t go easy on her. The head of his cock was rubbing against her wetness, gathering it up so he could thrust into her more easily. As he pushed himself inside of her she let out a long, low moan. She could feel every inch of him push in bit by bit. When he was settled, his balls resting against her ass, he began to thrust. She gripped his shoulders as he thrust in and out of her, every movement heaven and torture. The sound of her moans began to fill the room, until his deep moans joined them.

  Chelsea was fighting against his hold, the pleasure too much for her body to handle. Matthew laughed as he thrust away in contentment. Her fingers dug into his skin, she knew there’d be fine, red lines later. Chelsea caught herself moaning out his name over and over. He was pushing himself in deeper, rubbing against her spot. She tossed her head from right to left unable to keep still. Matthew’s hands left the mattress. Instead, he rested his hands on her arms, pinning her against the mattress. He knew her to well, she thought. She was about to back up, run away a bit from the mounting pleasure that was taking control of her.

  Her voice came out in halting, stuttered breaths. She gazed at Matthew and he looked back at her. Chelsea knew he was just as turned on as she was. Inside of her pussy, his cock twitched and throbbed. She could tell from the way he was tensing up that he wouldn’t last much longer. Chelsea stopped fighting the mounting pleasure and gave in to it. Their moans melted together as she came on his cock. He filled her with warm cum before he leaned forward, his body resting on hers.

  “Matthew?” She said softly.

  “Yes, babe?”

  “You’re crushing me,” she said with a laugh.

  *****

  Freshly showered, her hair piled on top of her head, Chelsea slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Matthew was sitting in front of the television in a pair of boxers, a box of Chinese takeout by his side. A pair of chopsticks stuck out of the top, so she guessed he was finally full. As she walked over to the couch to slip on her flip flops, Matthew grabbed her hips.

  “Where are you going all dolled up?” He asked.

  “Dolled up? I’m in denim and a plain top. If you think this is dolled up, you’re going to die at our wedding.”

  He grinned as he pressed his face against her belly. “So, where are you going?”

  “Sangi’s,” she said knowing his response.

  Matthew groaned. “Why?”

 
“Drinks. And we need to discuss the wedding, she is my maid of honor,” Chelsea paused before she snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, Sangi wants to know if she can come to your parents this weekend. I told her I wasn’t sure…” she trailed off.

  “No way! This is a family thing.”

  “So, none of your friends will be there?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Well….”

  “Exactly. Besides, if she went I might actually feel more comfortable about the whole thing.”

  He sighed. “Fine. Are your parents coming too?”

  “Friday is no good and mama works doubles on Saturday. Maybe Sunday though. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen them too.”

  Chelsea leaned down and kissed him. His mouth was soft against hers. She felt his strong hands sliding down her hips, his fingers slipping between her thighs. She slapped his hand playfully.

  “I’ll be back soon. You don’t have to wait up,” she said as she grabbed her car keys. “I love you.”

  “Love you too,” he called, but she knew he was already tuned back into Sports Center.

  Chelsea drove the short distance to Sangi’s house. She lived in a single story house she’d inherited when her parents passed. It was in a reasonably good part of town filled with families and elderly people who’d never left the neighborhood. Once her mother had died, the traditional forest green shutters and awning against pale bricks had been changed to a colorful array of rainbows. Some people tried to get her to change it, but there was no talking to Sangi once she’d made up her mind. In the driveway, there was a yellow VW Beetle.

  Chelsea knocked on the door, but she could already hear music thumping out through the house. She stood on the tips of her toes and knocked more loudly, still nothing. She sighed before she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The smell of incense filled her nose, both pleasant and overwhelming. She caught a glimpse of something colorful flash out of the corner of her eye and headed to the kitchen. Sangi was singing at the top of her lungs and dancing wildly. She wore a multi-colored skirt that brushed across the floor as she moved and a dusty rose tank top. He black hair was in a long pleated braid that rested against her brown skin. Chelsea shook her head, a smile on her lips as she picked up a black remote on the counter and pressed pause.