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

by Claire Adams

  "I wish she could be here, too," I said as I wrapped my arms around my niece and hugged her tightly. "But at least we know she's in peace."

  Jack's investigator had followed Molly's trail of letters and had done some digging into what had happened once she arrived in Florida. A week before the wedding, he'd sent Jack a full report of his findings in which he'd detailed Molly's last weeks and her death. According to the coroner's report on Jane Doe #473-229, Molly had overdosed on alcohol and cocaine and been buried in a pauper's graveyard at an old church in Tallahassee.

  For two days after we'd learned the news, Riley was silent. On the third day, she came down for breakfast, smiled, and thanked Jack for finding out what had happened. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it, but she shook her head and poured herself a bowl of cereal. Later, Jack asked if we should send her to see a counselor, but I told him it would be better to wait and see what Riley wanted before forcing her to do something. He agreed, and so we waited.

  "Now that Mom and Gram are gone, you're my only family," she said looking at me. I nodded and bit my lip to hold back the tears. Mama had passed away in her sleep a month after the engagement party, and while it had been a relief to know that she wasn't suffering from the years of hard drinking and poor health, I still missed her.

  "We've got Patrick," I interjected.

  "He's a priest," she said rolling her eyes. "He doesn't count."

  "Don't tell him that!" I chuckled as I took one last look in the mirror and nodded at my reflection.

  Patrick had agreed to officiate at the ceremony and, although Jack and Lincoln had made peace after the blow out over Baby Steps, Jack hadn't wanted him to be his best man. So Riley was doing double duty as best man and maid of honor. Norma, Betty and I had helped her pick out a dress that wasn't too girly, but was appropriate for a summer, backyard wedding. She looked lovely with her hair done and a hint of makeup on her face. I was happy that she'd turned out okay after all the drama, but I also knew we had a long road ahead of us since she would soon turn thirteen.

  Jack and I had decided to keep the wedding a small affair and had only invited immediate family and our Baby Steps friends. We'd had the wedding organizer set up casual benches for the vows. We decided to turn the backyard into a dance floor over the pool and had an outdoor barbecue rather than have it be a formal affair. Jack had decided to wear the suit he'd worn the day he'd met me and had suffered the accidental nosebleed. I wore my mother’s dress. Everything seemed perfect.

  "You look impeccable," Riley said as she linked her arm with mine and said, "Let's go show Jack!"

  I descended the stairs with Riley's help, and as the music began to play, I lifted my chin and walked confidently toward our new life.

  *

  "Close your eyes," I whispered as I started up the steps. It was well past midnight when I carried my bride up the staircase to our new bedroom so she could see the surprise I'd been working on for the past few months.

  We'd agreed not to live in the house until after the wedding ceremony, but I'd spent many evenings overseeing the installation of our new furniture and custom made cabinetry in the bedrooms. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, setting her gently down on the carpet and closing the door behind us. I said, "Okay, open them."

  Leah slowly opened her eyes and looked around the room. I watched as she took it all in, her eyes growing wider with each discovery of something new and amazing. I'd created a seating area around the fireplace where we could sit and talk, or just relax with a book. The plump sofa and chaise were made of the softest microfiber in muted, earthy tones and draped with plush angora throws that accented the colors.

  I'd had the workmen create walk-in closets for us on either side of the enormous turquoise tiled bathroom. In Leah's closet, there were enough drawers and shelves to accommodate her growing wardrobe, and a dressing table that lit up so she could put on her makeup or do her hair in private. Like the rest of the bedroom, the floor was highly-shined wood with a few thick throw rugs placed around the room.

  But the crowning glory of the room was the bed. An enormous four-poster bed with a canopy that draped across the posts, giving the area an exotic feel. The bed was covered in a thick duvet that was embroidered with our intertwined initials in the center.

  "My God, Jack, it looks like we live at the Ritz," she exhaled as she turned in place and took in the entire room.

  "Then you like it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

  "I love it," she said smiling as she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. "And I love you, Mr. Yates."

  "I love you, too, Mrs. Yates," I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her and softly kissed her lips. "I live to make you happy."

  "Already done," she said, kissing me back.

  My fingers fumbled to find a zipper on the back of her dress before realizing that she was buttoned in. I sighed as I turned her around and began the onerous task of sliding each one of the delicate pearl buttons through its corresponding loop with one hand. I slowly ran the other hand down the front of her dress. Leah sighed as I undid the last button and slid the dress off of her shoulders, letting it pool around her feet.

  I quickly shed my tie and shirt before turning her around. She looked lovely bathed in the low light, and I breathed deeply as I bent and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. Leah moaned softly as I ran my tongue up the side of her neck before setting her down. I slipped out of the rest of my clothes before I knelt on the bed between her legs and finished undressing her.

  Although we'd made love many times between the engagement and our wedding day, when I reached down and positioned myself at the edge of her wet opening, I felt a sense of reverence as I slid inside her. I moved slowly inside her, feeling every warm, wet inch enveloping me, losing myself in the sound of her deep moans as I stroked her closer and closer to the edge.

  "Jack," she cried as I reached between her legs and pressed my finger against the spot that made her body sing. "I can't . . . oh my God . . ."

  "You feel so good," I whispered into her lips as I gritted my teeth and slowed my thrusts even more. Leah cried out, begging me to speed up, but I wanted the moment to last forever. I continued my long slow thrusts, knowing that I wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer. The need in me was rising, and the feeling of Leah wrapped around my aching shaft drove me almost to the edge.

  "Oh, oh, oh," she moaned as my fingers combined with the pressure and the movement to send her flying. I could feel her orgasm starting deep within her as she began to pulse around me. Two more strokes. She cried out as she pushed her hips up against mine and let go. She groaned, "Now, harder! Harder!"

  I lifted her hips up off the bed and thrust into her as hard and fast as I could, over and over again. I could feel my own release just out of reach until she moaned, "Oh God, yes, Jack, that's it! Take me!" I pulled back and then plunged deep into her as I felt my body let go and release everything I'd been holding back. My face went cold as the waves of pleasure rolled through my body and released inside of her.

  I held her tightly as I lay on top of her, feeling her relaxing under me as I kissed her face and lips. Leah looked up at me with her blue eyes soft and gentle. She caressed my cheek.

  "I love you, Mr. Yates," she whispered, then kissed my lips. "This has been the best day ever."

  "I love you, too, Mrs. Yates," I said, smiling down at her.

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagina
tion or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams