Triplet Babies for My Billionaire Boss (A Billionaire's Baby Romance)

by Lia Lee

  “Are you free for dinner, ma’am?” I ask, grinning at her awestruck expression.

  “I am,” she replies, nodding. “I can’t believe you’ve done all this. How did you...?

  “Oh, I had the help of a Clair-ey Godmother,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and leaning in for a kiss. Her lips are sweet and moist with strawberry-flavored gloss. I savor the taste, thinking that even this extravagant catered meal won’t compare to the sweetness of her kiss.

  “Claire helped you? I don’t believe it.”

  “If you prefer to believe I flew in and staged this magical dinner date entirely by helicopter, I’ll go with that.”

  “That, I’d believe.” She laughs.

  “Well, let’s not leave it to get cold, eh?” I pull out a chair and help her get settled before taking the seat opposite. I lift a chilled bottle from the bucket and offer to pour. “Non-alcoholic,” I announce.

  She smiles and nods.

  We start on dinner, and I can’t help but marvel at how beautiful she looks awash in candlelight and surrounded by flowers. All the stress of work and the nasty business with my dad fades in her presence and I’m truly enjoying this experience. We’re nearly finished when I realize I haven’t yet apologized.

  “Mila.” She looks up as I say her name, focusing her big brown eyes on me. Waiting. Waiting for the words she needs and so richly deserves to hear from me. Waiting for the truth. “I’m so sorry for the other night. Sorry that we missed the performance you were so looking forward to, and sorrier still that you were caught in the fallout of my... frustrations. When I realized you and the baby could have been hurt...”

  “We weren’t. I’m a strong person, Derric. You should know that by now.”

  “I do.” I gaze at her gentle face that belies the strength of character within, and I’m suddenly aware of the music wafting through the air. The song is “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from The Lion King. “Strong enough to dance with me?” I ask, rising from my chair and offering my hand again.

  “Yes.” Smiling, she takes my hand and follows me to the open space beneath the strings of lights. I hold her in my arms and let the music guide our feet. All my senses come alive as we slow dance. The texture of her dress… The smell of her hair… The fragrance of flowers… The taste of her skin… The sounds of traffic far below that mingle with the voice of Elton John… All faultless. I swear I can even feel the tiny heartbeat of our unborn child pulsing between us as our bodies press together, and realize what a miracle that is.

  It’s a perfect moment, and I want to keep having it, every day, over and over. This is what I want, what I’ve missed out on; a chance at real love, a family, a deep and unbreakable connection with the one person who fills me with joy.

  I lean down to speak low in her ear. “Mila, I know life hasn’t exactly been a fairy tale for us. So much has happened so fast—things we didn’t plan—but, despite all of it, I know that I want you, and the baby, and I want us to give it a go; to be together, officially. Be a family. What do you say?”

  I feel her breathe in and out before she raises her head to look at me, a huge smile on her face. Every bulb and candle could go out right now, and our rooftop dance floor would still be lit by that smile.

  “On one condition. That you take me downstairs right now and make slow, passionate love to me.”

  “Ah, I see you’ve learned to go for what you want,” I say.

  “And I see you’ve learned to apologize. Now, make love to me, or the deal’s off.”

  “Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mila

  Mind. Blown.

  My body is on fire with arousal as Derric’s tongue makes another long, slow swath through the length of my slick, hot channel, my excited clit quivering on the edge of another earth-shattering orgasm.

  He’s incredible at oral sex, his talented tongue belonging in the annals of Olympic intercourse history. His hands are wrapped around my knees, bracing my trembling thighs apart as he licks me into sweet oblivion. The tip of his tongue flicks my aching bud in rapid succession, then presses hard on the magic spot at its base. My hips buck at the hot spear of sensation it sends through me, but he holds me fast; unwilling to give up his meal until he’s finished me.

  My fingers are entwined in his wavy blond hair, and my grip tightens as his agile, clever tongue plunges into my waiting entrance three times, eliciting a scream of utter satisfaction from my throat. I can’t hold back a second longer. The torrent of ecstasy rains down like a tropic storm.

  I ride out wave after wave of exquisite pleasure. God, he makes me come harder and longer than I ever thought possible. We seem made for each other, in bed and out. I think some grand master plan must have been in motion, causing our two wildly different lives to collide across the distance of two hemispheres.

  His arm is underneath me now, rolling me over onto my stomach. I don’t resist; I’m a complete ragdoll, rendered boneless by his expert ministrations.

  “That’s my goddess,” he murmurs, his voice husky, his face wet with my juices. “Just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

  I twitch as a slippery coldness touches my ass. This is new, but I trust Derric, and I know I would never deny him any brand of pleasure he decides to explore.

  “You’ve got the most beautiful ass, my love. And I’m going to come inside it.”

  My stomach flutters at his words. His finger reams my puckered entrance, coating it in slippery gel, priming me for entrance. I’m not afraid, but I’m curious. What will this be like? I take deep, even breaths, willing myself not to flinch as he holds my cheeks gently apart and the warm tip of his cock breaches my untried hole.

  He goes slow; the sensation of him filling me this way is strange but not unpleasant. In fact, I think I like it; and wonder why I’ve never tried it before. A satisfied, otherworldly moan of pleasure escapes Derric’s lips. “Damn woman, so hot and tight...” he gasps out, pushing in further. “You’re incredible...”

  I smile, though I know he can’t see my face. He pauses as he reaches the limit of penetration and I revel in the sound of his panting breaths; his enjoyment of what I can give him. My hands fist the sheets, waiting for what he does next. He withdraws with equal care, then thrusts forward again, steady yet gentle. I relax my muscles, allowing him to find the pace he needs, his cock pumping rhythmically in and out.

  “Fuck,” he growls out, locked balls deep in my depths. I feel the hot flood of his cum filling my canal, hear his grunts of satisfaction echoing in the room. The experience is mind-blowing, like nothing I’ve ever imagined, and I’m so glad to be ushered through it by a man I know I’ve fallen helplessly, endlessly in love with.

  His breathing slows, and his satisfied cock slides from my body. I’m limp and breathless as he pulls away, my mind floating in just-fucked limbo, when a slap lands across my burning butt cheeks. I yelp in surprise.

  “Fucking fantastic,” Derric shouts, bounding off the king-size bed. “What a way to start the day.”

  “Good morning to you too.” I snicker. “Now, how about some coffee?”

  “Coming right up,” he says, snapping his fingers and whistling his way down the hall.

  I roll over onto my back, spent, satisfied and luxuriating in the sleek satin sheets of Derric’s bed. This is the second night I’ve slept here, and it’s still like a dream. After our wonderful rooftop dinner, we talked about moving in together, and so we’re in the process of doing it.

  I don’t need much besides my clothes and work things though. I’m going to leave all the furniture behind for Claire. I still plan to split the rent with her; there’s no need for her to be financially stretched on account of my life changes.

  I feel our baby growing inside me day by day; we don’t know yet if it’s a boy or girl, but my doctor says that sexual activity can actually be quite beneficial as the endorphins released during orgasm may also impart a sense of well-being for the chil
d. Man, I’ve got endorphins coming out my ears.

  I close my eyes and allow visions of the future and our life together as a family to drift pleasantly behind my eyelids. There are many things to be decided, but I’m not worried. The network launch is still four months away; plenty of time to work out the details.

  My stomach rumbles, bringing me back to the present. I wonder if Derric decided to make an entire breakfast; it’s been several minutes since he left the room. I don’t even smell coffee brewing. I sit up and reach for my silk robe that’s draped on a nearby armchair to go in search of both my man-candy and a hot cup of decaf joe. I pad on bare feet out of the bedroom and down the hall leading to the living room and kitchen.

  As I pass by the door to his den, I hear Derric’s voice. He must have gotten a phone call before he even had a chance to put the coffee on. Even I’m not such a workaholic as to take calls on a Sunday. His gruff, confrontational tone of voice makes me stop in my tracks.

  “... and you can call off your hired dick, too, because I’m not seeing her anymore. Tell him he can hang up his trench coat and turn in his little spy-decoder ring and Brownie camera because there’s nothing more to see. I’m here to ensure that ROO-TV is a success. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. It’s my first priority. You think I’d jeopardize the biggest business opportunity Network 10’s ever had for some random piece of ass?” A pause. “Yeah you would, wouldn’t you? Well, think again, shithead.”

  A chill sweeps through me and solidifies into an icy shell around my heart. I stand still, clutching the doorframe. Who is he talking to, and who is the ‘her’ in this discussion? I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but his words glue my bare feet to the spot. I have to hear more.

  “Listen, she works for me, and that’s all you need to know. I’ve played the field pretty loose, but one thing I don’t do is get personally involved with my staff or my clients.” The other party speaks, but it’s too muffled to make out any words. I’m stuck interpreting the one-sided conversation and hanging on Derric’s replies. “How the fuck should I know what her expectations are? I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Of course, I’ll be back in Sydney. I don’t know. When the job’s done, that’s when.”

  I will my feet to move, taking slow, silent steps backward until I can turn and run into the bedroom without being heard. My eyes are so blurred with tears I can barely see to get my clothes on right side out. I just hope I can make it to the elevator before Derric finishes his call. I have to leave, like right now. I try to make sense of it all, replaying what I heard in my head. A private detective of some kind has been following us? Why? And how can he say such things—his only priority? A random piece of ass? Is that what I am to him?

  It can’t be true, it can’t. Not after all he said on the rooftop! Not after knowing about the baby. But who else could he be referring to? A hideous thought lasers through my brain. Is it possible he’s been seeing someone else at the same time as me, and I’m too naive and blinded by hormones to notice? “She works for me,” he said. Holy crap… is it someone else working at the station? I’m gutted at the notion; even more so than his attestations that ROO-TV is all he cares about, and that nothing will get in the way of its success, not even me. I thought his talk of being a family meant he might stay in New York, but here he’s planning on returning to Oz. My stomach plummets to my toes. What a stupid little fool I am!

  I grab my bag and tiptoe into the living room, skirting deftly past the den. Thankfully, I don’t see or hear Derric. I lean on the elevator call button and practically fall into the waiting cab as the doors open. A pitiful sob leaves my throat as I descend the thirty floors to the ground. I’ve been royally conned; romanced into believing he cared—that someone like him, with all the money and women he could ever want at his disposal, would change his whole damn life for some little nobody he knocked up on a one-night stand.

  God, I’m pathetic.

  “One thing I don’t do is get personally involved with my staff or clients.” Dammit, those were my words from the beginning. Where there was business, there was to be no pleasure. I can’t even follow my own rules! It’s time to change them. I’ll show him he’s not the only one who won’t get personally involved.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Derric

  Worth a Thousand Words

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  Again.

  How can a person virtually disappear in an age of constant connection, of cell phones and Facebook, GPS and Google Earth? Impossible, yet Mila Churchwood seems to have accomplished it.

  It’s been nearly a week since I last saw or spoke to her, and I’m about to lose my mind. I can understand her getting freaked out by my temperamental tendency to smash and break things when angered, but I thought we’d sorted that. I couldn’t tell her the real reason for my outrage that day, and I never will. The hurtful ill my father had spoken of her will never reach her ears, I’ll make sure of it. Even if it means never seeing or speaking to Steven Faris again; even if it means he will never meet Mila or his own grandchild.

  But I don’t know what’s gone wrong this time. Everything seemed perfect, better than perfect, after that night on the roof of her apartment building. I’d told her how I felt, how much I wanted us to be together, and it was the truth. She said she wanted that too, and we were moving in together. Two days later, she’s pulled another runner on me, and I’ve got no fucking clue why.

  Could she have gotten cold feet? Did the idea of making things permanent scare her off? Isn’t that what she wanted to hear? I don’t get it. She won’t answer my calls. She won’t answer her door. She hasn’t been to her design studio all week. Her assistant steadfastly guards the gate to the back offices and claims neither Mila nor Claire is available whenever I’ve shown up there. Suddenly I’m persona non grata.

  If she thinks for one minute I’m going to walk away from my child, she’s thought wrong. If this is some ploy, or some advice from a crooked lawyer, to garner some sort of financial settlement... Shit. Now I’m starting to sound like Steve. A shiver of distaste ripples through me.

  That doesn’t even make sense. Mila knows I’ll support her and the baby in every way; I’ve told her that. Neither of them will want for anything, ever. To top it off, my worry over her whereabouts has turned me into a miserable tyrant at the station—which brings up yet another problem. Is Church & Strait going to walk out on me, too? That would set us back weeks looking for another design firm. That is just not on. I have to find her and get to the bottom of this, now.

  Since I have a legitimate business interest, Church & Strait owes me answers. I’m going down there one last time, tell the receptionist to take a walkabout, and break down the bloody wall to Mila’s office if I have to. I’m not leaving without an explanation. We have a contract, and I have an army of lawyers to back me up. I just hope I won’t need them to enforce some kind of parental rights. Sweet Jesus, don’t let it come to that.

  I arrive at the office with a full head of steam, demanding to speak to the managing partners. The anger in my voice and savage look on my face is enough to make even bulldog Terri back down.

  “One moment,” she says quietly, picking up the handset of her desk phone and punching in a few keys. “Claire? You’d better come out front. Before I call the police.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of all the empty threats I’ve received, calling the cops on me is by far the emptiest. I step back a pace and, in a few seconds, I see Claire walk through the door leading to her and Mila’s personal offices. She closes it behind her and fixes me with a glare as deadly as Medusa’s.

  “I’d appreciate you making an appointment, Mr. Faris, and to refrain from threatening my employee. Why are you here?”

  “You know bloody well why I’m here.”

  Without dropping her murderous gaze, Claire motions to Terri. “Would you mind running over to Lump & Grind, Ter. Tall caramel macchiato... decaf, please.”

  “Sure,” Terri says, appar
ently glad to make an exit and skirting a wide circle around me.

  “Where’s Mila,” I say as the door clangs shut. It’s not a question.

  “None of your business. She doesn’t want to see you. You might as well get on a flight to Sydney right now.”

  I flash an evil grin. “I’m not going anywhere, and it flaming well is my business. You’re forgetting we have a contract. Not to mention she’s carrying my child.”

  “Whom you don’t give a shit about,” Claire says, practically spitting the words across the room. “All you care about is your lousy kangaroo network.”

  “Oh, you’re in my head now, are you? You’re out of line. How would you know what I care about, or whom, or how deeply? Let me talk to Mila.”

  “No. I won’t let you hurt her anymore. She’s not here, anyway.”

  “What have I done to hurt her?” I ask, throwing my arms wide. “Christ woman, I love her. I want to have a family with her, and she bolted like a thief in the night. You’d better tell me where the hell she is.”

  Claire blinks, her poison stare faltering. “You love her? You’ve got a shitty way of showing it, asshole.”

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  Claire shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re a real piece of work. She heard you say it— that the network is your only priority, that nothing’s more important, and that she’s just some easy lay that you can discard when you bugger off back to Australia. Only you’re not just leaving her behind, are you? A baby too, you heartless prick. Now get out of my office.”

  Claire’s words pierce me like a sniper’s bullets, felling me on the spot. Fuck. She heard me. It all makes sense now. I remembered I’d gotten up to put the coffee on after we’d had that incredible morning sex. When I checked my phone, there was a missed call from Steve. I should have ignored it, but I’d had enough of all his bullshit. I called back and told him exactly what he wanted to hear, so he’d back the fuck off. Anyone listening would completely get the wrong idea and, apparently, Mila sure did. God, she thought I was lying to her all this time—brushing her and our baby aside and getting ready to split. No wonder she took off.