The Dom's Secret

by Cassandra Dee

  It seemed like Dominic couldn’t get enough of me. As soon as the lock clicked each night, he was on me in a flash, murmuring my name into my neck as his hands stroked my curves. And I always responded, just as hungry for him as he for me. We coupled furiously, again and again, each night unsatiable before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body wrapped securely around mine, and waking in the early morning dawn for more.

  It was odd because he never used any protection and never asked me about it either. Of course, I didn’t say anything. I was too shy to ask Nana to get me contraceptives, and besides it was unnecessary because I was already pregnant with Dominic’s child.

  Yes, it’s true. I’m actually a few months along already, the baby the result of our glorious first night together in New York. But as a curvy girl, I haven’t begun to show yet, and if I glowed a little more than usual, it could be attributed to the good food and constant sex with the big man.

  One morning, I woke to find Dominic stroking my cheek, watching me as I slept. In that brief moment, I could almost swear that I saw caring and tenderness in his eyes, but the minute he realized I’d woken, shutters came down and his face resumed an impassive, expressionless façade even as his hands reached to weigh my breasts and run wetly through my cunny.

  But there had been something there, and I was floating on air as I got ready for breakfast. I took especial care with my hair and wore a pretty sundress, eager to see the big man at breakfast. Maybe I’d say something today, maybe even tell him about the pregnancy, my deepest, darkest secret.

  But as we sat in the breakfast nook, a steady thwap-thwap-thwap began to sound, first dimly and then louder. I was startled, although Dominic barely looked up from his paper. When the roar could no longer be ignored, he turned to me and said, “We have a guest,” with no further explanation.

  To my amazement, a huge black helicopter landed in the field outside the kitchen window. As the rotors slowed, the helicopter door opened and who stepped out but my gorgeous twin sister, Trina, the cause of my current situation.

  She looked ravishing in tight white jeans and a floral top which caressed her breasts snugly, revealing their luscious, shapely form.

  “Hello Dominic!” she cried, stepping out precariously in ridiculously high heels.

  Dominic seemed not to notice and strode across the lawn, bending to give her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. But Trina turned her head swiftly and it became a kiss on the mouth, the two locked into a passionate embrace.

  I almost died, my insides crumpling with shame and self-doubt. I’d been about to reveal my pregnancy to Dominic, hoping against hope that we could figure out some type of amicable arrangement, maybe even creating a joint household for the baby. But now that Trina was here, I saw that I’d been dreadfully wrong. Dominic had been toying with me, scheming over the best way to break my heart, and that meant discarding me once my beautiful sister was available.

  They swept across the lawn, a well-matched, glamorous couple, their heads bent together laughing and talking privately. I felt positively dumpy, a misshapen lump left in the cold.

  “Oh hey Becca,” said Trina carelessly. “Dominic told me you’d be here, you’re his secretary right?” she asked. “Assisting him with his books and all? Thanks for doing such a great job, I know you’ve been a big help.”

  I said nothing, mutely silent as she gave me a peck and ordered Oscar to bring her numerous bags inside.

  “Put then in Dominic’s bedroom,” she commanded as she surveyed the house.

  “Oh my lord, this is gorgeous!” she said, her gaze greedily possessive. Of course the house was beautiful, but her attitude made me feel like the serving staff, here to greet the new Mistress.

  “Trina,” I said. “What are you doing here? Where’s Caleb?” I asked.

  “Oh you know,” she tossed off carelessly. “Caleb and I were never that serious, we broke it off, no biggie. But when Dominic called explaining that he was Caleb’s older brother and inviting me to the island, I jumped at the opportunity. I mean, I knew Caleb had an older brother, but I had no idea it was Dominic Patterson, billionaire best-selling author,” she said in a hushed voice.

  Good thing the big man was still outside talking with the helicopter pilot because Trina’s unmasked greed would have made him shake his head with disgust. But my sister was a master of deception, and I knew that in front of male company, she could appear as innocent and pure as driven snow.

  “Anyways,” she continued. “Dominic told me that you were already here, that he’d temporarily hired you as a guest editor,” she continued. “Thanks for helping him with his work,” she confided. “If you could take on more responsibilities while I’m here, I’d appreciate it,” she said. “I think he’s invited me here because he wants some female companionship, and I want to make sure he enjoys everything I have to offer,” she said with a sly smile.

  I gaped wordlessly at the implication. So Dominic had brought Trina here as a companion cum girlfriend, and his time with me was done, over, kaput. He’d just been using me as filler until a new, more glamorous, model was available, and now that she’d arrived, I was nothing more than extraneous matter.

  “Of course, Trina,” I said quietly. “I’m more than happy to re-dedicate myself as an editor. You’ll hardly see me,” I said.

  “Thanks sis! Dominic and I will be busy most days, so just go on without him, you know?” she said, tossing that beautiful red mane. “You can handle it on your own.”

  “Yes, I will,” I said quietly. But my mind whirred. Now, more than ever, I needed to get off the island by any means necessary.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Becca

  The next week was pure hell. I barely saw Dominic and Trina, but I could hear their laughter, her high tinkling notes and his deep rumble through the walls of the plantation. I’d buried myself in work, alone in the library for most of the day while Dominic and Trina cavorted about, enjoying themselves.

  Nana looked at me with sorrowful eyes, unsure of what to say, unable to provide any comfort.

  “Baby, he a man, dem men, dey unpredictable and do what dey want,” she said, one night as I chopped vegetables with her before dinner. These days, I took all my meals in my room, and barely spoke to anyone, instead confining myself to the office and bedroom.

  “You bettah off without him,” she said, shaking her head as Trina’s high tinkering laughter wafted through the air again. It was followed by a low growl from Dominic and then a high-pitched squeal, as if he’d just swept her off her feet into his arms.

  I felt tears welling in my eyes, and Nana covered my hand with her own. “Move on,” she said comfortingly. “He not worth it, especially with you da pregnant,” she said nodding at my belly. “You go make your own life.”

  I gasped. “How did you know I was pregnant?”

  “Oh honey,” she said. “I been a mother to eight, you think I don’t know when a woman be carryin’? I know the moment you arrive,” she said.

  “Does Dominic know?” I asked, my hands flying to my cheeks. Oh my god.

  “No, dat man have no clue,” said Nana. “But you be showin’ soon, so he will know,” she said. “You best leave before your heart get more broken,” she advised.

  “I know, Nana, I know, but how do I leave?” I cried. “I already tried once, and totally failed,” I said, referring to my efforts with the Sea-Doo.

  Nana was quiet for a while, saying nothing as she continued to chop. But then she spoke in a low voice.

  “Child, da man from da Big Island come tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “Bringing supplies. You leave with him,” she said, with a resolute shake of her head.

  “Thank you Nana!” I cried, throwing my arms around her, hot tears of relief streaming down my face. I knew she was risking her job, her livelihood, and her very way of life on Koh-i-Noor by helping me escape.

  “I’ll come back for you, I promise,” I sobbed, trying to gulp back my tears.

  But I felt
a warm hand on my head, Nana’s own eyes suspiciously watery. “Go child, don’t worry about us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Becca

  And that’s how I found myself in a small motorboat, puttering my way to the Big Island with an old fisherman at the helm. Koh-i-Noor grew distant, slowly receding in the horizon as the ocean grew large in front of us. As luck would have it, Dominic and Trina had left for a day-long island tour, complete with packed lunch and plenty of sunscreen. By the time they got back, I’d be long gone, safely away.

  But my heart felt heavy. I rubbed my belly absentmindedly, not even sure that I was doing the right thing. I’d hoped that maybe, somehow, Dominic would want to be a part of his child’s life, but with Trina in the picture, it was impossible. My sister was too selfish to open her heart to another person’s child, and definitely not if that child was competing for Dominic’s love. And so it would be only my baby and me … for now, at least.

  Read A Baby for the Billionaire 4 next

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Becca

  I’ve taken Nate and settled into a little town in New Hampshire, the bleak New England landscape a vast change from the tropical lushness of Koh-i-Noor. We enjoy a quiet life here, taking pleasure in simple things such as Nate’s discovery of snowflakes, or his first bite of food. What a mess that was!

  My life with my son is so different from my old existence. I remember giving birth to him, alone at the hospital, a young girl terrified, tired and anxious. After the baby was put in my arms, I’d looked at him with trepidation, halfway wishing that he’d never been born. But then Nate opened his eyes, smiling at me, and I’d fallen in love.

  Because my son is light of my life. He’s adorable, with chubby cheeks and deep blue eyes that remind me of his father. He’s curious about the world, his little hands waggling, reaching for the stars already. And I want to give him everything. I left the TV station to work freelance as a journalist and editor. The money’s not great, but it means that Nate only has to be at daycare for a few hours each day.

  I usually wrote demonically when Nate was out of the house, conscious that I needed to use every second wisely. But uncharacteristically, I’d taken a break that day, switching off my computer for a brisk stroll to the local book store. Dominic’s most recent bestseller had hit the shelves, and there’s been a line at the local bookstore for fresh copies. Unobtrusively, I’d stood in the queue, quiet as Dominic’s handsome mien stared at me from his author photo.

  I don’t know what to say. I do miss Dominic. Even after everything that happened, the kidnapping, the escape attempt, the wretched fiasco of Trina’s visit, I sometimes lay awake at night, in that half-awake and half-dreaming state, fantasizing about what could have been. I saw a side of Dominic that I absolutely adored, the big man gentle, caring, and tender, sensitive and true. But he’d broken my heart. By taking up with my twin sister, I’d realized that there were many facets to the man, and that he could be domineering and callous – hurting me without even trying.

  I shook myself. I’d done the right thing, removing my baby and myself from his magnetic, charismatic presence.

  Even so, I looked over the book again, my fingers wistfully trailing over the beautiful cover. Money was tight so I’d splurged by buying a hardback, but I wanted to read it just once, as a bittersweet memory, before shelving it and turning back to reality.

  Slowly, I opened the volume. “Mariner’s Revenge,” the title page read. Good title. Dominic was quite the mariner himself, and had drawn from his experiences at sea to form the backdrop for the tale. The physical pages inside were made of heavy, durable paper, and I admiringly rubbed them between my fingertips, luxuriating in the tactile pleasure. Suddenly, the blood drained from my face and I literally stopped breathing. Because the dedication read,

  Little One, for you.

  I hope this finds you

  Wherever you are.

  No, it couldn’t be. Dominic had often called me Little One during that sweet, brief interlude at Koh-i-Noor. I’d allowed myself to believe that I was someone special by his use of the endearment, convinced that I was more than a quick fuck, a convenient lay for the big man.

  Could Dominic be sending me a message, however unlikely, through his new book? My fingers trembled, and I rushed home, the volume clutched in my hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Dominic

  Dammit! I was staring at the phone again, willing for her to call. I was a mental and physical mess. Everything I’d done in the past year had been completely fucked up, and I only had myself to blame.

  There was simply no excuse for my lunatic behavior. After my younger brother told me he was going to propose to Trina, I’d swung into action, sure that the gold-digger would reveal her true colors when a richer man came along.

  I’d accosted the redhead at the catering event, convinced that the luscious, curvy girl had to be the temptress Trina. And she’d been sweet and innocent, her body giving and plush as she spent one memorable, earth-shattering night in my arms, sweetly writhing with pleasure, utterly responsive and giving.

  The redhead had been shocked the next morning when I’d accused her of seducing Caleb, explaining that she was actually Becca, Trina’s twin.

  But I’d refused to believe it. Because … I wanted to keep her for myself. This has been the hardest admission for me. I was jealous that my twenty-one year old brother had found someone so sweet, so giving and delicious, whereas I was nearing my forties after a string of failed relationships. I wanted this girl … and so I kept her.

  I don’t know what bizarre rationalizations ran through my head, but it must have been bad. I kidnapped Becca to my own private island, basically turning her into a sex slave. But it had become something more. I respected the woman, her sweet demeanor, her pleasure in nature and beauty, and her keen, discerning intelligence. She’d helped edit my latest book, and it was only right that I dedicated it to my “Little One.”

  But I’d gone and fucked everything up again. Caleb had called from New York, ecstatically declaring that Trina had accepted his proposal. It was then that I knew for sure that Becca was in fact a twin. I’d already known in my heart of hearts that the girl I loved couldn’t be a ruthless gold-digger, but now the real Trina was making her move.

  I’d contacted Trina and basically bribed her. If she didn’t marry Caleb, I’d buy her a garish diamond necklace, which was already waiting for her at Tiffany’s. Sure enough, the girl made a trip to the store that very same day, and broke off the engagement.

  But I wanted to get the bitch away from Caleb, period, so I flew Trina to Koh-i-Noor, my island paradise. It was a fucking disaster. The blood had immediately drained from Becca’s face when she realized who was deplaning, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears at her sister’s callous comments. I’d overheard everything, though I pretended not to.

  And I’d added fuel to the fire, spending my free time with Trina, basically ignoring Becca to cavort about the island with her sister. Nana’s eyes had followed me sadly whenever I returned, saying nothing but also everything at once.

  “Becca, she in her room alone again,” she said.

  “Oh Becca will be fine,” I’d said carelessly. “Trina’s just here for a while.”

  But Nana just shook her head sadly, and sure enough, one day Becca was gone.

  I’d gone into a furious rage, racing the ATV like a madman all over the island, scanning the seas for some sign of life.

  But Nana had shook her head again and merely said, “She at da Big Island now.”

  I knew immediately that Becca had hitched a ride with the delivery boat, and was likely long gone by now. My heart had dropped, my face hot with shame, when I realized the humiliation she must have endured. A man she’d freely given herself to, sweetly and with no reserve, was likely fucking her twin sister now right under her nose. Of course she’d left! I berated myself, sinking into a deep depression.

  And Trina was a piece of wo
rk. She couldn’t understand why I was devastated over Becca’s departure when she was the more beautiful, glamorous twin.

  “Becca’s just an editor, you can find one of those anywhere,” she’d scoffed after my second day of gloom. “Why, I could do her work myself,” she’d said.

  “Hands off my manuscript,” I’d snarled. “You’ve barely got enough brains for half a person, much less the wit and intelligence of your sister.”

  She’d been shocked, genuinely surprised that any man would pick Becca over herself. But she’d flounced off, not caring what happened so long as her material needs were met.

  “You’re not even a man!” she’d screamed shrilly. “You were always too scared to fuck me, fucking asshole!” she cursed.

  Because I’d never touched Trina, always rebuffing her physical advances. I don’t know, it just made me sick to share something so special, so sacred with another woman after I’d spent those magical nights with Little One. Everyone else seemed polluted or rotted, especially the garbage that was Trina.

  I’d turned away resolutely, my face set in stone. There was nothing Trina could say that would rattle me, I just didn’t care about her. But Becca … oh god, what have I done?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Becca

  I stared at the phone, so ordinary and yet threatening. I could easily call Dominic, just as a pretense to congratulate him about the book’s publication. But I knew I was playing with fire because emotions run deep … at least on my part. He was probably still sleeping with my sister, and a pang raced through my heart at the thought.

  No, I decided. Not today. I won’t tell him about his son today.

  Another year passed, Nate and I enjoying our simple lives, the baby growing fast, healthy and chubby with inquisitive, sparkling eyes. He was really a darling, and looked more like his father each day. His hair was dark brown, starting to wave just like his dad’s, and he had the same crystal clear blue eyes which would widen with mirth at his favorite cartoon characters.