Baby Fever Secrets: A Billionaire Romance

by Nicole Snow

My brisk words get laughter from the peanut gallery. Can't say I care while the minister, a very formal man, catches himself and tries to plod on with his lines.

  “Then by the power vested in me by the great state of Maine, it's my esteemed pleasure to pronounce you man and wife. You may now –“

  Kiss the bride? Oh, fuck yeah, I do.

  I've got her veil tucked behind her head before he's finished, arm around her waist, pulling her into me, and this time forever. I push my lips into hers like a kid with a cloud of cotton candy. And she's just as sweet, just as colorful, just as sure to put a few more stars in my eyes after I've had my fill.

  She loses a few soft, soulful moans to my lips. I devour them while our friends and family break into cheers. We kiss so long and hard the happy sounds breaking out around us melt into the indistinct purr of the ocean.

  “Proud of you, bro. Come the hell here.” Luke never settles for a firm handshake. He lets his sensitive side get the better of him and jerks me into his grasp. Today, I oblige him, slamming my chest on his as we throw our arms around each other like two old soldiers reunited.

  “Wouldn't be nothing to take pride in if it wasn't for your help, Fly Right.”

  “That's what brothers are for. Did you really think Hayds and me would let you go on a bachelor forever?” He smiles a big shit-eating grin. First time in forever I've seen him without his bombardier jacket, too. He's in the same sleek penguin suit he wears playing Hollywood's new favorite billionaire hero, probably one he's borrowed from the set.

  “It's official. Hell is iced over. All the Shaws are taken,” Hayden comes up behind us, throwing his arms around our shoulders. “Never thought I'd see the day.”

  “Had a few nights where I thought we'd never survive, brother. The odds stacked against everybody getting here were worse than I've seen on any money screen.” That's saying a lot considering how many falling knives I've caught, and spun into pure gold. But no big deal or wonder trade ever compares to winning my woman.

  “Who'd have thunk it, right? We beat evil step-moms and tropical viruses. Lying brats and drunken fathers. French guys too dumb to take no for an answer.”

  I clench my jaw when he mentions Ethan. There are nights when I see his dead, cold face in my dreams, alive again, standing over my woman and little Grant, threatening to push them over the edge.

  Ought to make me want to resurrect his evil ass just to kill him again. But I'm not a psycho like him.

  I'm glad he's no longer walking the Earth. Happy he died quick and clean, and Fabius holdings around the world are being liquidated as the courts have their way. He won't torture my girl ever again, and neither will the dirty guns and rockets he profited on in war zones.

  “How's the firm holding up? Tell me they'll stop busting your balls long enough to let you enjoy your honeymoon?” Hayden gives me a pained look.

  “We're wrapping up with the SEC. They let us off with a few stiff fines for our full cooperation. Paid them gladly, out of my own pocket. Good reminder never to let this shit happen again. No more mergers for me, brother. I'd rather be second fiddle and pretty damned rich than anybody's slave. I'll take Neolithic to the top on its own, or learn to be happy it's in the top ten hedge funds.”

  “That's the Shaw way,” Luke says, an approving smile on his face. “It's a humiliating day any man with our name ever needs to get down on his hands and knees, or lets anybody put a leash around his neck. Never take crap from anyone. We're too damned good for it and –“

  “Luke!” Robbi catches up with us, grabbing my brother by the shoulder, concern in her eyes. She's got my nephew in her other arm, and he doesn't look happy. “There you are. Remember what you said about dealing with the little boy's room so I could enjoy myself tonight?” She gives him a huge grin.

  “I'll run Zane over in a minute, little bird. Go have another glass of wine,” he whispers, planting a kiss on her forehead, before he turns back to us with a snort. “Correction: there's always crap to take from your wife and kids. Sometimes literally. Good thing this crap is worth it.”

  It's perfect timing. Hayds and I are holding in our laughter when our ladies catch up to us. Luke and his family make way for two more. There's Penny, holding up little Abby. I lean in so my niece can have the handful of my beard that always leaves her laughing.

  “I brought you a nice moscato, hubby.” I turn around and see Bekah standing there in ivory perfection, two full crystal glasses in her hand. “Thought it'd help limber you up for the dance in the next hour.”

  I clink glasses and give her a strained wink. “Oh, right. That. If it's tradition, I suppose –“

  “It's a chance to let Grant Jr. see his parents with the biggest grins they'll ever have,” she says, forming a playful pout with her lips. She leans in, pressing those sweet, full lips to my ear. “Besides, did I ever tell you how sexy you look when your hands are on me in front of everyone? Nice way to get worked up before...you know.”

  “No. Enlighten me,” I whisper back, pulling away to take a long, refreshing sip from my glass.

  She blushes to this day when I tease her about sex, the little minx. Innocence may have been her middle name once, but she isn't fooling me anymore. One word about my face between her thighs, and she's rose red and wanting. Always my virgin rose, and now my married one, supple and ready to be plucked.

  “Aw, you kids. Enjoy yourselves tonight. Leave the baby to me.” Cora comes up behind her, flashing me a knowing grin, bouncing our baby son on her shoulder. “Good distraction for me, too. Jeremiah never really did keep me company, but I do miss my mimosas...”

  “Mom, you're doing great,” Bekah says, spinning around. My hands go down her waist. I back my bride up with a nod. “Stick with the program. You won't think twice about drinking in a few more months.”

  “As if I have time to fall off the wagon, honey. I'm not winding up like your father, so helplessly addicted I do bad. Power always was his drug, I suppose. I'll never know why he couldn't be satisfied with the simpler things. Like seeing my only daughter getting married, and spending a lovely evening with this little man.” Smiling, she rubs her nose on Grant Jr.'s, getting a messy laugh out of our baby boy.

  Bekah and I share a smile. We want her mother's Jeremiah mentions short and sweet.

  Someday, we hope they'll disappear completely, before little Grant is old enough to understand.

  We'll sit him down and explain why his grandfather spent his last days behind bars. We may even tell him why daddy has that faint phantom scar on his cheek, and how his company almost went belly up thanks to a few big mistakes and a whacked out French stalker after his mom.

  Cora grins at us one more time, and then heads back to her seat as the music playing overhead swells louder. “Mother-in-laws,” Hayds says, rolling his eyes. “Welcome to the club, brother.”

  I laugh because he isn't exaggerating. Penny's mother, Melody, is a character on neurotic steroids.

  “When do I get my club card? I'll put it in my wallet,” I joke. But actually...

  Melody is the loud, but benign version of crazy mother-in-law. And how could I forget Ericka, Robbi's mom, who's sociopathic tendencies nearly put our brother away? It's taken her a lot of therapy to get better after she wrecked enough havoc for several lifetimes.

  I take my wife's hand as we watch Cora slip through the crowd with Grant Jr., heading for her table. Draining the last of my wine, I'm hyper-aware it could be a hell of a lot worse.

  If helping Jeremiah's wounds heal and keeping her off the bottle is all I need to worry about with Cora, I've gotten off lightly. I'm a very lucky man indeed.

  One last hungry glance from Bekah reminds me just how lucky.

  Bringing one of the finest New York orchestras up to nowhere, Maine, wasn't cheap. Damn if I regret blowing a penny when the lights are down, the violins sing, and I escort my lady to the middle of the spacious ballroom.

  My brothers are out there with their girls, too, and so are my business partners. Bu
t they're off to the side, holding hands, while we have our first dance as man and wife.

  She's beauty drenched in charm as she moves in her long cream and lace dress, my arm around her waist, holding her at arm's length every few steps so I'm able to resist doing all the wicked things running through my brain.

  I'm sure I look like Prince Charming, groomed to the nines in my suit. Also wonder if old Charming ever had to worry about the bulge in his trousers when his cock stirred full, aching to dispense with classy tradition, and take this dance where it really counts between the sheets.

  Behave. Just a little while longer, I remind myself.

  Hardly easy when my blood spits fire every time she grinds against me. Her little ass is just as lush as the first night I had her. Adrenaline hits my brain and overpowers the wine, making me drunk on lust and want and magic.

  “You never cashed the check I gave you last year,” I tell her. Need to make conversation out here before I turn our waltz into a strip show, blood thrumming in my fingers as I fight to pull them off her ass before they linger too long.

  She turns, craning her neck to face me, brushing her chestnut hair on my beard. “Sorry? If you'll remember, we were kind of preoccupied.”

  “Yeah, well, the money's still yours. All yours, Bekah. Whatever amount. I'll cut you a new one tomorrow, and make it out to your charity.”

  She whirls, a perfect sheen of sweat on her brow. The music soars, flutes pipping their excitement through the melodies, approaching crescendo.

  “I can't do that. We're married now, Grant. I get how we share everything, but it's technically your money. So much of your money.”

  “There's always more, moscato. Consider it my wedding gift to you. I've got one more present tonight, but I thought I'd give you the second best now.” I wink. Stretching out my arms, I hold her as we do a loop around the floor, past our smiling guests in the background. The whole scene blurs as my focus tightens on her, and only her. “Those kids in Colombia or wherever need clean water. We're also parents. Don't want our boy growing up without realizing how lucky he is, and how he's got an obligation to make lives better. Better get him started early so he sets an example for his siblings.”

  “And what if I want a way to go there and set an example, too? I can't do the comfortable housewife thing yet. Maybe not ever...”

  The music screeches to its high, and begins to soften, like a heavy storm drifting out to sea. Smiling, I pull her close, aiming her lips perfectly at mine. “Never said you should. If you're happy, I'm happy. I'll run my company from the damned jungle if that's what it takes to keep a smile on your face while you're making this world brighter. Told you before, moscato, there's one thing I won't compromise on, though.”

  “I know, I know,” she grins, flattening both hands against my chest, pushing playfully against me. “Four, maybe five. You want a big family.”

  “Got too much heart for anything less,” I growl, laying a kiss on her neck, making her feel my teeth as I move up to her ear. The applause kicks up, my brothers whistling like wolves. I have to whisper loudly to talk through their uproar. “Plus you're so fucking hot when you're knocked up. Saw the pictures, moscato. Next time, I'll be there to help you every day through it, and you'll be smiling instead of looking like your world just ended.”

  She moans, turning to honey in my arms when my lips come down on hers. It's a kiss so hard it makes me question whether worlds aren't being ended tonight after all. If they are, there are better ones coming, and I'm going to build them all.

  Later, we climb in my car. We're leaving the reception with the stars. We head straight for my cabin, the place where it all started. It's a balmy summer night, perfect for a walk down the wooden platform behind my place, down to the other section of private shore I own beneath the trees.

  We'll do it about a hundred times in the bed where I took her cherry before the weekend is through. But not before I have her where the whole universe can see, underneath the sun, the moon, and galaxies near and far.

  We walk slowly, north shore pebbles rolling under our feet. My hand covers her eyes until we reach the small nest I've had prepared between the rocks.

  “Can I look, Grant?”

  I smile, stopping when we're next to the big surprise, leaving her eyes hidden just a few seconds longer. “So impatient, moscato. You're fortunate I love it. Here, without further adieu, is my second wedding gift to you.”

  When I pull my hand away and her eyes open, she gasps. I hold her tight, laying my head in the nook of her shoulder as wonder fills her.

  “Oh my God. How'd you even get this here? It's beautiful.”

  I let her gaze wander over the cedar canopy bed surrounded by thick white curtains. I've had a matching wedding gazebo built over it, our own private sanctuary next to the sea, next to a fully stocked wine cabinet doubling as a nightstand.

  “Forget how, moscato. This is where we'll start our honeymoon. And you'd better believe I'm raring to go...”

  She turns, twisting in my arms. We face each other like it's the very first time: intense, on fire, and a little unsure.

  My mouth does the talking without words. It tells her what I want, what I need, when my lips crash down on hers, blessed by the heat welling up inside me.

  Even though it's summer, I worried we'd be cold this close to the sea. Turns out the kerosene lanterns I've had installed next to our beach bed aren't necessary. I'm on fire, and so is she, as soon as we fall into each wrangling kiss.

  “Pretty as this thing looks, it's earned a retirement tonight,” I whisper, working my fingers through the straps holding together the back of her dress. Each clasp pops easy in my hands. Had it custom designed for exactly that purpose when she picked it out because I knew I'd be half-mad to get inside her after our ceremony.

  Standing flushed, she spreads her legs, moving them to help me bring her out of the virgin white dress clinging to her skin. Underneath, she's naked and beautiful. Told her I wouldn't have any lingerie tonight, but when I'm on my knees, throwing my jacket over her dress in the weighted hamper I've had placed next to the bed, I stop.

  “These are staying on,” I growl, remembering the heels. My cock throbs, imagining her digging them in my sides like spurs when I fuck her again and again.

  It's hot. It's wild. Maybe it'll hurt a little, but good sex always should.

  “Oh? I thought they'd done enough walking for one day. Don't they deserve a rest like my dress?” she teases, rifling her fingers through my short hair.

  My fingers don't stop working until they've got my shirt off, and then I stand, instantly picking up where I left off on my belt. “No marathons where we're going, baby girl. Keep the shoes and make sir happy. They'll help you keep up with me when we start flying.”

  I'm serious. My pants fall and I hoist her up. She squeals as I fling her around, crashing down through the canopy with her, onto the mattress.

  Every extremity attached to my body burns. My fingers, my tongue, my cock all want their piece of her. I don't leave her time to even regain her balance before I'm pulling her legs apart, moving to the end of the bed.

  “Grant, wait, don't you think we should...oh!”

  Oh, yeah.

  She realizes I'm not waiting another fucking second when my tongue spreads her sweet cunt. It's steaming, soaked, and ready for every pierced inch of me. But it'd be a crime to waste pussy this wet without feeling it squirt all over my beard when it's finally mine, legal and lawful, for the very first time.

  “Hands above your head, moscato,” I growl, the only warning she gets before I push my face into her.

  Five licks in, she's paralyzed. Whatever her worries, whatever her fears, I lift them away with every sultry sweep of my tongue.

  Fuck, she tastes good. Better than she did as a virgin, better than when she was just the mother of my first born. Tonight, she's sweeter, more intense, unnaturally divine because she's my wife, and she belongs to this mouth as sure as that rock I've put on her bel
ongs to her finger.

  Burning napalm pulses in my balls. I love the music I make as I eat her, grabbing her ass, hooking her a little harder to my mouth when her hips can't resist riding back. First her little whimpers turn to moans. Then they become screams.

  It's messy, it's hot, and it's the greatest fucking sound I've ever heard. She pulls at the sheets underneath us, her thighs pinching harder around my head. I throw her legs over my shoulders, savoring the fire when her heels dig into my skin, spurring me to bring her over the edge like a man possessed.

  “Grant, God, yes! Holy fucking –“

  Shit. I finish for her, growling my curse into her pussy when her hips lift up, smother my face, and I send her to heaven with my beard tickling her inner thighs.

  My little moscato curses like a sailor when she loses it. Her words come between her screams, filth I won't even repeat. Have to keep my tongue lashing her hot little clit like a demon so I don't shoot off on the spot.

  I'm well on my way to training a dirty talker, and I love it.

  Her mouth should sin as much as her flesh when I've got her fused to me, coming like a rocket, losing wet bliss against my lips. I don't let up when her tremors stop, and she's trying to pull away. I want her pussy soaked for the last surprise of the night I've embedded in my dick.

  It's a new gold stud, smooth as her own fine bottom. Like riding sculpted ice, the man who sold it to me claimed. You learn to appreciate the freaks in New York fast, especially when there are craftsmen out there who make good money figuring out how to make dick piercings feel better than ever.

  “Please! Please, Grant,” she whimpers.

  She wants me to be done strumming her clit between my teeth. Wants to be full of me, panting like she'll lose it if she isn't leaking my seed in the next five minutes.

  Too bad for her, I'm far more patient than the greedy nub between her legs. I have no intention of wrapping her pink around me before I've heard the magic word.

  I lick faster. She moans louder. The moon shines brighter, freed from the drifting clouds, entrancing me with the sight of her tits bobbing in the shadows as she rides my tongue.