Billionaire's Secret Babies (An Alpha Billionaire Secret Baby Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  "Oooh, you'll get rough with me?" she chortled as she leaned in close enough for me to feel her breath on my lips.

  "No, I'll fire you," I said bluntly. "I'll remove you from the company and keep you from being anywhere near me ever again."

  She narrowed her icy-blue eyes as she stepped back and stared at me. "I see. Is this how we're going to do it?"

  "I told you what the deal was, Sloan," I said stepping away from her. "You agreed, and now you're going back on the deal. If you violate our terms, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

  "Oh, I understand all right," she said. "But I'm not sure you understand exactly who you're dealing with, my friend."

  "I know all too well, believe me," I said through clenched teeth.

  "I don't think you do," she replied before turning on her heel and returning to the dining room where my mother sat waiting for coffee to be served.

  I shook my head as I opened the door and headed out to the car. Jimmy was waiting and, once I told him where we were headed, he raised the window between us and let me sit back in peace as he drove me to the club.

  *

  I found Brittany standing with her back to the front door, moving her ass to the beat of the electronic music that poured from the club speakers. She was wearing a sliver dress that revealed more of her tanned body than it covered.

  "Jack, you made it!" she shouted over the throbbing beat as she moved in close and rubbed her enormous breasts against my chest. I felt myself aching for the release that I wouldn't allow myself with Sloan.

  "I did, indeed. Care to help a fellow out as a reward?" I said grinning as I moved her hand down between my legs. She looked up at me wide-eyed and excited as she nodded and took my hand.

  She led me across the dance floor to one of the many bathrooms that the club had installed specifically for this purpose. I threw up a thank you to the club owner as Brittany pulled me into the first empty bathroom she found, slammed the door shut, and locked it behind her.

  "You know how I like it, Jack," she purred as she pressed her body against mine. "Do it the way I like it."

  I did indeed knew how she liked it, so I reached out and grabbed a fist full of the long, blonde hair that fell in waves down her back and pulled her head back as she moaned softly. Brittany liked it rough.

  I spun her around and pushed her up against the wall as I rubbed my crotch against her ass. She moaned louder as I reached around and pulled her breasts out of the front of her dress and squeezed her nipples harder and harder until she cried out, begging me to take her right there.

  I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out given the amount of torture that Sloan had administered at the house, but I tried to hold back long enough to ensure that Brittany was getting what she needed.

  "Jack, I need it! I need it!" she cried as I held her hands above her head and ran my hand down her body and up under her short skirt. She begged me louder as she pushed her ass against me, "Please! Please!"

  Holding her by her wrists, I spun her around and bent her over the counter next to the sink before grabbing a condom from the jar on the shelf.

  "Don't move," I growled as I let go of her wrists long enough to unzip my pants and roll the latex barrier on my engorged shaft. Brittany writhed under me, but she stayed put until I was ready. Then, with one hand I held her down on the counter, and I used my knee to force her legs apart as I yanked her skirt up and thrust inside her as I began pounding her fast and deep, just the way she liked it. I could feel her wet warmth enveloping me as I slammed into her over and over.

  "Oh God! Right there! Right there! Right there!" Brittany screamed as I hit her G-spot again and again. I could feel her on the edge of an intense orgasm, and I knew from our past experiences that in order to get her there, I was going to have to drive harder and deeper.

  I picked up the pace and thrust into her faster and faster as I felt her passing the point of no return. In an instant, she tightened around me and I heard a low deep groan pushed forth from somewhere deep inside. She shoved her ass back against me as she pulsed and rocked, screaming out how good it felt and begging me not to stop.

  I kept thrusting, but whereas our previous experiences had ended with me reaching a climax not long after she had, tonight I couldn't find the edge. I was still rock hard and pumping as hard as I could, but I nothing followed. After a few minutes, Brittany looked over her shoulder confused and asked, "Are you okay, Jack?"

  "Yeah, fine," I grumbled as I slowed and then stopped. "Too much wine at dinner, I think."

  "Oh, yeah, that happens to me, too!" she said brightly. I pulled out and disposed of the condom as she adjusted her dress and checked her makeup in the mirror. "Well, let's go dance and have a drink or something, and then we'll do it again!"

  "Yeah, again," I nodded as I washed my hands and followed her back to the bar.

  For the rest of the evening, Brittany did her best to get my engine revving again but, as much as I tried to indulge her, I knew something had shifted in me. I just wasn't sure what it was.

  Chapter Twenty

  Leah

  I held Riley until she cried herself to sleep, then I got up and made a phone call before going into the living room where my mother lay sprawled out on the sofa with a glass of vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I stood staring at her until she turned her head to look at me.

  "What the hell is your problem?" she barked as she raised the glass to her lips and drank deeply.

  "You are my problem, Mama," I said quietly. "You've been the problem for a long time, and I'm sick and tired of it. You're not going to ruin Riley's life the way you ruined Molly's."

  "Why, you ungrateful little bitch!" my mother spat as she pulled herself up to a sitting position. "I've done everything for you, and this is how you repay me?"

  "What have you done for me, Mama?" I replied in a calm voice. I knew what was coming next, and I knew how I was going to change the script. "Tell me, Mama."

  "I gave birth to you. I raised you, put clothes on your back and food in your mouth," she rattled off the list of things she'd done, "and I'm your mother."

  "You did do those things, and I'm grateful for what you did to get me to this point, but you're sick, Mama," I said as I leaned against the wall, feeling nothing but pity for her. "You're angry and sad, and you took your feelings out on Molly and Patrick and me. Molly didn't make it, but Patrick and I did, and I'm not going to let you drive Riley into the same place that Molly went, Mama. I'm just not going to allow it."

  "And what are you going to do, Little Miss Smarty Pants?" she taunted. "You think you can raise a twelve-year-old all by yourself? Good luck with that, sweetheart. You have no idea what it means to do that kind of hard work."

  "In case you haven’t noticed," I said. "I already am. And I’m fairly certain I can do a better job that you did, if for no other reason than I'll be sober."

  "You useless little cunt!" my mother screamed as she tried to push herself up off of the couch. The alcohol had robbed her of her ability to right herself, and she fell back amongst the blankets as she shook the hand holding the lit cigarette at me. "You were always the ungrateful one. The mouthy little upstart. I always hated you."

  I inhaled sharply as the words flew out of her mouth. I'd always known that she didn't love me as much as the other two, but this was the first time she'd actually said it. I nodded then turned away to answer the tapping at the front door. I opened it and found my brother standing on the other side as I'd expected.

  "She's all yours," I said wearily as I pulled the door wide open and stepped aside. He looked at me quizzically and then laid a hand on my shoulder. He was dressed in black and wore his collar and, for a moment, I had the urge to address him as Father.

  "I've got it, Leah," he said quietly before turning and heading into the living room. I stood watching from the doorway as he sat down on the edge of one of the wingback chairs that Mama had always shooed us off of saying they were for company.


  "Who the hell are you?" Mama demanded to know.

  "Mama, it's Patrick," he said softly. "We need to talk."

  "I have no idea who you are, and I don't want to talk to you," she said waving him off before taking a long drag of her cigarette and blowing the smoke in his direction.

  "But I need to talk to you," he said bowing his head. He dropped his voice and began speaking so softly that I couldn't hear what he was saying. I assumed that was on purpose, so I walked out the front door and sat down on the porch giving them some privacy.

  I tried not to think about what was going to happen next, and instead, let my mind wander back to kissing Jack Yates. It had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone like that—or anyone in general. I could still feel the warmth of Jack's lips and the solidness of his chest under my fingers. I'd wanted to let go. I'd wanted to feel his hands roaming my body but, I knew that if I'd done that, I would have most likely lost my job.

  "Dammit!" I cursed as I slammed my fist into my thigh trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "When is any of this going to get easier?"

  "Probably not tonight," Patrick said as he stepped through the door and stood out on the porch with me. "Sorry, I couldn't help but hear you."

  "What did she say?" I asked trying not to get my hope up. "Will she get help?"

  "Leah, listen to me," he said as he walked over to the porch swing. I scooted over and gave him room to sit down. "Mama is really sick inside, and I don't know that any of us can help her. I don't know that we can't, but I think her road back is going to be long and hard. She doesn't want to get well, Leah. She wants to stay in the place where she drowns the pain and then wallows in it."

  "But she could get into rehab and stop drinking," I said helplessly. "She could sober up."

  "If she wanted to," he said taking my hand. "But she doesn't want to, Leah. That's the hard part of all of this. She doesn't want to leave the pain behind. She's angry and hurt and lonely, but she'd rather stay that way than deal with everything sober."

  "But Patrick . . ." I whispered. "I can't . . . Riley can't . . ."

  "No, you most definitely cannot," he nodded as he squeezed my hand. "We've got to get you out of this house as soon as possible. You and Riley need to stay somewhere else. You can stay at the parish house for a few days, but there really isn't enough room for you there."

  "But we can't leave Mama here by herself," I protested. "She'll starve to death or hurt herself or burn the place down."

  "I'm going to work on finding a caretaker for her, Leah," he said patting my shoulder. "And I'll look into housing for you and Riley, but you two can't stay here. Riley won't survive it."

  I nodded and covered my face with my hands as I tried to hold back the tears. I knew he was right, but it felt like such an extreme solution to the problem.

  "What if Molly comes back," I whispered. "How will she know how to find us?"

  "Leah, it's time you faced reality," Patrick said as he put his arms around me and hugged me tightly. "Molly isn't coming back."

  His words released the dam that had built inside of me, and I sobbed on his shoulder, releasing all the pain and fear I'd felt since our sister had disappeared. Patrick rested his chin on the top of my head, just like he'd done when we were kids, and waited for my grief to tire itself out.

  *

  "Riley, it's time to get up," I said shaking the sleeping girl. She grumbled and rolled over pulling the covers over her head. "Riley, this is not a rehearsal. It's time to get up and get ready, kiddo. If you can't go to school, you're going to come to work with me."

  "Aww, Leah," she groaned as she pulled the pillow over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut against the light. "You're so mean!"

  "Next time you'll think about my meanness before you punch a classmate," I said, grinning as I pulled the comforter off of her and grabbed the pillow away from her. "Now get up and get ready, I'll buy you breakfast on the way in to work."

  I left her to get ready as I prepped our lunches and dressed myself. Normally, I wore clothing that was designed to hint at the fact that I was the boss, but that was also practical in the warehouse. Today, I dressed with a little more care than normal and pulled on a bright colored dress over my usual leggings and boots. I needed the protection of the steel toes, so there was really no way around them, but I swiped on a layer of mascara before dabbing on a little lipstick and considering myself in the mirror. I ran a hand through my hair and wondered for the millionth time whether I should just chop it all off.

  The long dark curls were my pride and joy and, combined with my bright blue eyes, they earned me the identity of one of the Black Irish. My mother had told me that legend had it that her people had originated with the arrival of the Spanish Armada and that the dark hair and light eyes were the result of the mix of those folks with the fair Irish folk of the upper isle. I wasn't sure how much of her tale to believe, but as a child, I loved the idea that my curls came from one side of the family and my eyes, the other.

  Right now, I was tempted to pull out the scissors and lop off the curls since they refused to behave in any reasonable manner. But I thought better of it and simply gathered the mass in a clip that lifted it off of my face and would be easy to adjust during the day. If I were honest, I'd admit that I wanted Jack to be able to run his fingers through my hair if he kissed me again, and the clip was easily removed. I blushed as I thought about it, but then let the notion go as I walked to Riley's room.

  "I don't want to go, Leah," she pouted as she slowly packed her backpack full of books and games. "Why can't I stay here with Gram?"

  "Because I need you to come with me today," I said cheerfully, avoiding the explanation of why Mama was not someone I felt safe leaving her with anymore. "I'm going to have a busy day at the office, and I need a helper."

  "Aren’t there laws against child labor?" she grumbled. "I don't think this is legal."

  "Don't worry, I'm not going to have you do anything too terribly taxing," I said as I handed her a pair of hiking boots I'd found in the front closet.

  "Why do I have to wear these? Can't I wear tennis shoes?" she whined. I knew that she was upset about being suspended and that the change in routine was something a little scary, so I stayed calm and waited it out.

  "Nope, you have to wear sturdy shoes in the warehouse," I said pointing down at my work boots. "If something falls on your foot, it needs to be covered. Put the boots on, and let's get going! I want to stop at Stan's Donuts on the way!"

  "Donuts for breakfast?" she asked hopefully. "Can I have a chocolate one?"

  "You can have whatever you want, but we have to be on time! So let's get a move on, lady!" I said as I moved into the kitchen, grabbing the lunches I'd packed for us, and my purse. I peeked into the living room, saw that Mama was still sleeping, and breathed a sigh of relief. This would be easier if we didn't have to confront each other. I'd given Patrick a set of keys the night before, so I knew he'd be able to get into the house when he was ready.

  As I shooed Riley out of the house so we could make the train on time, I turned and looked back at the front door, knowing that soon we'd be moving away. My heart felt heavy, but I knew Patrick was right. Riley and I couldn't be dragged down into Mama's hell. I had to find a way to get us out and onto a path that would lead toward something better.

  I just wished Mama—and Molly—could join us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack

  "Do not ever show up at my mother's house unannounced again," I said as Sloan walked into my office. She was wearing a suit that was obviously tailor-made and fit her like a glove. The blouse dipped low enough to show the promise of something underneath, but not so low as to give away the store. She was wearing shiny black stilettos that made her legs look a mile long, and her hair and makeup were impeccably done.

  "Don’t ever order me to do or not do anything again," she replied as she set her bag down on the edge of my desk and gave me an icy look. "I’m not the hired
help. I’m a businesswoman who has a substantial amount of knowledge and who is willing to help you guide this company into the 21st century. You will treat me with the respect I deserve."

  "Then quit acting like some kind of dominatrix whore," I replied. She glared at me as I stood and walked around the desk. "You and I are business partners. Act like it."

  "You're nothing more than a self-absorbed playboy who seeks revenge for the hurt his daddy caused," she said as she laid a palm on my chest. "You're not capable of running this company nor are you capable of turning a profit. I'm the reason you're going to keep this going long enough to cash out and move on. Don't forget it."

  "You really are an arrogant bitch, aren't you?" I said, smiling at her as if I were indulging a child. "You think that I have nothing to offer, and you can sweep in here and save me from myself so that you can claim to be the hero, don't you?"

  "I thought we were on the same side," she said suddenly switching tactics. "We're working together, Jack. We want the same thing."

  "No, I don't think we do, Sloan," I said moving her hand off of my chest and backing out of her reach. "I think you're running some kind of game. I just don't know what it is."

  "I'm not, I swear I'm not," she said looking down as she bit her lip. "Jack, listen to me. I'm tired of having to maintain this ice queen image. I just want to prove that I can do something worthwhile. I want to earn my reputation separate from my father’s and succeed on my own terms. You can understand that, can't you?"

  "Nice try. I'll give you an A for effort and acting," I said as I walked around the desk and picked up a stack of papers.

  "I'm being honest, Jack," she said as she dropped down into the chair across from my desk and put her head in her hands. "I'm sick of this, Jack. I'm sick of always having to be the bitch or the attack dog. Can't I just be me and do what I do best? I know how to sell things. I know how to bring in new business. Can't I just do that?"

  "Sure, you go right ahead, sweetheart," I said as I looked at her, trying to decide if she was being real or simply playing me again. "I just don't want to be your little lap dog, so let's steer clear of all the sexual games you like to play, okay?"